I slipped out of Juho's hold.
It wasn't like I didn't know some guys lived that way — having multiple partners, keeping things open. No feelings involved, no strings attached.
In fact, plenty of people in aviation did. Pilots. Flight attendants. They were always traveling, always surrounded by pretty faces. And Juho, being both a flight attendant and a photographer for KE, he must have been constantly spending time around beautiful models, artists, and God knows who else. I shouldn't have been so surprised he'd chosen that way of life.
I gave Juho an awkward smile. "Can we wrap up the photoshoot today? I feel hungry. I'll go grab something to eat."
Juho looked at me for a moment, then he turned away. "I'm sorry," he murmured, gathering his things.
"I'm sorry too," I said quickly, grabbing my bag and leaving in a rush.
The next day, I was the first to arrive at the dance studio. I had my manager Esko to thank for that. He showed up at my door at 6 AM and wouldn't stop abusing the doorbell.
"Girl, you have no idea," he started rambling the second he stepped inside. "Word's spread about your performance at the vocal class yesterday, Kaija. Just one day, and now everyone at KE knows your name! My goodness, I got chills watching the videos. Everybody's talking about you in the group chats. Just imagine how big you'll make it after debut! You're making me a happy manager already."
The rambling went on and on as he escorted me all the way to the dance studio.
I covered a yawn with my hand, blinking slowly at Esko's words. I was still recovering from the shock of learning that my crush was a professional playboy, and that he'd be involved in my modeling training here at KE for the upcoming time.
Good thing I had my boba tea with me. I savored the sugar kick, pushing the door open.
Antony was early today. He stood by the speaker, scrolling through songs on his phone. When he noticed me at the door, he shot me a displeased look, just the same one he gave me yesterday.
"That's a horrible choice for breakfast," he said flatly.
This is exactly what I need to face you, Mister Bully.
I gave him a sly smile, replying, "I won't need much energy. You'll kick me out anyway."
Antony's face darkened. "Who says I will?"
"Are you not?" I gasped.
He shot a glare at me. "Do your warm-up before I change my mind."
I laughed dryly to myself. I'd honestly prefer he just changed his mind and kicked me out.
Just as I stepped inside, his irritated voice came again. "No drinks allowed in this room. Haven't you read the rules?"
I let out a long sigh.
Was this guy on his period or what?
I tossed my precious boba tea into the trash can and started my warm-ups, just as he wanted.
When the time came, the teenagers from the day before didn't show up.
"Where are all the kids from yesterday?" I asked.
"They already graduated. Yesterday was their last day."
I stared at him.
So... he was basically saying I was the only beginner dancer left on this entire campus? That I was stuck in Beginner Dance with this grumpy tiger now?
I dragged a hand down my face. "Alright, teacher. What do you want me to do now?"
"What do you know about dancing?"
"Practically nothing."
It was his turn to fall silent.
"What sort of dimension have you been living in until today?" he finally asked.
"The dimension where singers don't have to dance to have a career, Mister."
"Then I have bad news for you." He turned on the speaker. "You won't have a career at all in my dimension. Now I'll perform a sequence. Watch me in the mirror and try to follow exactly what I do. Got it?"
"Sounds easy enough to me."
But boy, was I wrong. The moment the verse hit and he started dancing, I was flailing my limbs in every direction like a chicken about to lay eggs.
"What the hell was that?" he barked, turning off the music and scowling at me.
"You're just too fast, Mister," I shot back. "Goodness, isn't this supposed to be a beginner class? Can you show some mercy?"
"Imagine how much you'd whine if you ever got famous," he muttered. "Just like that platinum dirt head."
"Hey, excuse me," I frowned. "I'm nothing like that antisocial megalomaniac, alright? Just — please — for the love of God, slow down."
"Fine," he said curtly. "Watch me first. Then we'll do it again. Slower."
The music started again. When Antony began to move, it was as if he transformed into someone else. His face softened, his posture fluid, every motion smooth and effortless, like water.
I stood and watched in awe, completely captivated. Earlier, I'd been too focused on my own clumsy steps to even notice how he danced. Even after he stopped, my mouth was still parted.
"You watched enough?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me through the mirror.
I snapped my mouth shut and straightened. "Yes, Mister."
"Stop calling me Mister. It's weird. Call me Instructor."
"Yes, Instructor," I said, giving him a salute.
He shot me another glare, then replayed the track. "If you can't get it right this time, I'm kicking you out."
Strange enough, Antony didn't kick me out, no matter how many times I transformed into a chicken the moment the music started again. When the session finally ended, I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air, my chest rising and falling heavily.
Antony stood over me, giving me a pitying look. "This is the level of stamina you get from having boba tea for breakfast."
"No, Instructor," I raised a finger weakly, "it's just you. You have no proper definition of what beginner means."
"Catch your breath, then get out. The intermediate class is coming in ten minutes."
I could already imagine what kind of devilish level that class was.
Pushing myself up, I sighed. "Do you ever smile, Instructor?"
He stared at me. "What sort of stupid question is that?"
"The kind that's concerned about your mental well-being," I shot back casually. "You act like the whole world's your enemy."
His brow twitched. "That's none of your business." He turned.
"Wait," I called out.
He stopped. "What?"
I raised both hands toward him. "Help me up, at least."
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Thirty seconds.
No response.
Antony just stood there, frozen, staring at my outstretched hands like they were ticking bombs, his lips twitching slightly.
I was about to give up and pull my hands back when he suddenly stepped forward, grabbed both my hands, and hauled me up in one swift motion.
The second he was done, he let go like my hands were on fire, turning away so fast it was almost comical. His shoulders started trembling slightly.
I frowned.
Is this guy seriously that mentally off?
He acted like I'd just infected him with something deadly.
"Hey, Instructor, you alright?" I asked, patting his back.
Antony spun around and barked, "Don't touch me!"