#ballerinc

     he’s never quite understood the violence amongst men; the war, the fights, the quarrels. it’s good business for them, the demon knows; the hatred, the fear, a gathering of the foulest energy which his kind thrives off on. the business is great too, a life, a soul, in exchange for the swipe of the hand or some menial task. it’s easy business, the demon supposes. he doesn’t stumble onto the scene. rather, he walks into it, drawn by the chaos, the fear; a natural pull even in his human form. noeul stands, watching the abuse and stands even as the human kid runs into him, arms steadying the boy. “ do you want some help? ” he smiles, sweet and gracious, all inviting.

these r late but send me hey loser if u love me // @ballerinc

ᴊɪʏᴇᴏɴ & ᴀsᴀ ▌     Looking over the theatre, she felt so trapped. In the mousetrap, she felt herself have been forced from her life as she walked into the auditorium. She wished not to be here any longer but as if her ghost was locked to this venue, all she could do is find her seat. The seat her father swore was the best in the entire house whenever she would ask him why they sat here to watch the dancers versus in the box seat like her classmates’ families did. She could almost hear him telling her again. This is where her father sat when he watched her mother dance. It was here in the third row back center stage did he say the sweet spot existed. The orchestra was far enough away but the stage was just the right distance. Her bottom lip trembled softly as the curtains rose and the dancers lined in their positions. When they aligned, she saw him. 

His form was perfect. Her mother taught her in the studio there on the island she raised. Moving gracefully and moving with precision. It all made him an incredible dancer. He deserved his title. Primo Ballerino. He was the star in her eyes, and she fixated as the show went on. Then it ended. 

She sat in her seat for a long time afterward. Eventually, she was recognized and greeted by the event director. It was not a long conversation. A thank for her family’s continued support and a comment about how she trilly looked just like her mother. It was standard, and she knew it would not break her from the stance. “Can I stand on the stage? This was one of her dances, and I want to know what she saw,” Jiyeon inquired causing a sigh from the man before he allowed it. He offered to send that dancer that she liked so much as well, the one she watched and the one that played the role opposite to what her mother would have tonight. She stood on stage now and her eyes looked onto the now emptied audience but was more hindered by the lights. Holding her hand over her eyes, she spoke the approaching dancer. “How can you perform under these lights, sir?”