Chapter 1
“Surprise!”
Corks popped, confetti exploded, cheers from all directions. Calla clutched her heart, but a radiant smile quickly spread across her face.
Her closest friends had gathered at her apartment to wish her a happy twenty-seventh birthday. The living room was festively decorated; two garlands hung on the wall above the television, one made of colorful crepe paper, the other bearing the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’. Red and gold balloons floated around the room; apparently, no one had thought it necessary to tie them down. On a table under the only window sat a massive chocolate cake with red icing.
Calla was pulled into a bear hug by her best friend Lily, who ruffled her hair and put a silly hat on her head.
“I heard someone’s getting old here,” joked Lily’s boyfriend Seungmin, filling champagne glasses and passing them out one by one. “To you, Calla, all the best!”
“Thanks, Seung—”
“To Calla!” Lily shouted, raising a glass. Seungmin joined in, and it was loud again.
It wasn’t until they were all sitting on the comfortable sofa, munching cake, that Calla found a quiet moment to breathe. “When did you plan all this? I swear, I didn’t notice anything.”
Lily grinned. “Well, it was actually quite easy. You’re so focused on your training that you don’t notice anything.” She licked her cake-smeared fingers clean, making a lot of noise.
Seungmin leaned forward. “She sat in front of the computer for hours, looking for a pastry shop.”
Lily looked at him indignantly. “And what did you contribute? Hm?”
“Making sure you wouldn’t rip the poor pastry chef’s head off.”
Calla laughed. After all these years, the two still bickered like they did on the first day. In a world of fleeting moments, consistency was a rare commodity and therefore invaluable. Calla smiled as she watched the playful back and forth of her closest friends. Even when the all-too-familiar pang of loneliness haunted her heart, she remained strong; she lived in the here and now.
The past... has passed.
Calla let the taste of the cake melt on her tongue; it wasn’t too sweet, and moist — that’s the only way cakes should be.
The three of them were gathered around the coffee table, and Seungmin, the inventor, was introducing a prototype of his new game: Exploding Kittens. A card game. Basically, the goal was not to draw any ‘Exploding Kittens’; Whoever drew one was out — unless they could discard a defuse card. There were also action cards, which allowed to steal another player’s cards or reshuffle the deck.
Malicious laughter filled the room bathed in golden light. Seungmin held his stomach and barely caught his breath when Lily drew an ‘Exploding Kitten’ and was eliminated from the game.
“Finish him off, Calla, you hear? Make him bleed.”
Calla saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
For two rounds, everything went well. And then Seungmin discarded his last card and won. Unashamedly, he pumped both fists in the air.
“I’m invincible,” he bellowed. “See what happens when you challenge a winner?”
Stunned, Calla stared open-mouthed at the many unused cards in her hand. “You cheated.”
Seungmin only laughed harder. “I won fair and square. You’re just no match for me.”
“Says the guy who invented the game,” Lily muttered, pouting. “Just you wait, this calls for a replay.”
“Bring it on, loser.”
Calla stifled a yawn. Her gaze shifted to the clock above the door; it was just before ten at night. “As much as I want you to straighten his calves, Lily, I have to be up early tomorrow morning.”
She pushed up the sleeve of her sweater and looked at her watch. Her eyes widened a little. “I could have sworn we just arrived here.” And then she started tidying up the living room.
“How’s training going?” Seungmin asked as he gathered the cards. “It’s not long until your show.”
“Two months. We’re making great progress. Hyunjin is an excellent dancer; his ideas may be unconventional, but that’s exactly why I wanted him.”
Calla was a figure skater. After gaining some experience as a child, she quickly climbed the rankings and made it all the way to the Olympics. When there weren’t any competitions, she hosted shows, either as her own director or as a guest star. The show with Hyunjin was a collaboration with the city’s dance academy, and the proceeds went to supporting children and young people.
Hyunjin taught at the academy and, as a national and international winner of various competitions, had built a strong reputation. Calla was happy to have him by her side.
Calla wrapped up the rest of the cake and put it in the fridge. While Seungmin laced up his shoes, Lily hugged her friend goodbye.
“Calla?”
“Hm?”
“I’m glad to hear you laughing again,” Lily whispered.
Calla smiled a little. “Thanks to you and Seungmin. You two are true comedians.”
“I’m serious.” Lily pulled away from the hug. “Ever since that incident with Min—”
“Please don’t mention his name,” Calla said, taking a step back. She knew Lily didn’t mean any harm. When that incident happened, they talked about it a lot. Calla was down, and Lily sat by her side, comforting her, helping her stand and eventually walk again.
“Of course, I’m sorry. A broken heart takes time to heal.”
They walked to the door, where Seungmin was already waiting. He seemed in no hurry, doom-scrolling through his phone as if there was no tomorrow.
“Will I see you for brunch on Sunday?” Lily asked, zipping up her jacket.
“You can count on it.”
The door fell shut and Calla leaned her back against it. She heard the fading footsteps of her friends skipping down the stairs. She placed a hand over her pounding heart and wondered if it would ever get easier.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Calla’s feet thudded against the wet asphalt; water splashed in all directions, making the light reflections flicker angrily. There was so much anger in each of her hurried steps — but who could blame her? The alarm hadn’t gone off, and then she had to choose: breakfast or catch the bus.
I could have taken something with me and eaten at the gym.
She was annoyed at herself, speeding up even more. She decided to take it easy at the gym, because this day — which had barely begun — couldn’t get much worse.
Panting, she hurried up to the first floor. She scanned her card at the door, it beeped, and she swept past the counter like a shadow. The trainer from the morning shift was briefly surprised, but immediately turned back to his phone.
In the dim light of the locker room, Calla sat alone, the ventilation system humming quietly in the background, and her heart rate slowed. A glance at the clock—6:30. Good, she was on schedule. Even though things were less busy at the end of April, she couldn’t allow herself to slack off. She had to focus on her training. She looked forward to the upcoming show in June with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
In the training area, the athlete started with light stretches and then moved on to jumping rope. She felt her body warming up. Her mind was now fully awake, too.
When Calla placed the first resistance band around her thighs, she immediately felt the resistance. It was a familiar sensation. She lowered herself into a squat, the pressure of the band a reminder of how far she’d come. Purposefully and highly focused, she worked through her workout. The anger from the early morning fiasco dissolved like a knot, leaving behind a tingling sense of determination.
With each set, Calla felt her muscles working. Strength and pure energy flowed through her body. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and her heart rate increased — an unmistakable sign that Calla was alive and loving it.
At the end of her workout, she put the cleaned dumbbell back and pressed her warm, sweaty face into her towel.
A clap. “Bravo, Calla!”
Calla pushed the towel down a bit. Her trainer walked past the treadmills and towards Calla.
Ren- a somewhat stocky woman with platinum-blonde hair, who wore a pinstriped suit without exception. They’d known each other for years and were a well-established team.
“Hey, Coach. Here so early?” She took a generous swig from her water bottle.
The trainer narrowed her eyes. “Is that supposed to be a dig at something?”
Calla chuckled. “I’d never dare.”
Ren playfully waggled her finger and pulled out her tablet. “I come bearing news. First, the bad news: Hyunjin is in the hospital and needs surgery.”
A cold heaviness settled on Calla’s shoulders. “Oh, no, what happened?” she breathed in horror.
The trainer tapped a few times on her device. “Appendicitis.”
Calla’s grip on her water bottle tightened. Surgery meant Hyunjin would be out for several weeks. Does that mean I can forget about the show? She felt dizzy. “And what’s the good news?”
“Before you pass out, you better sit down.” Calla followed her coach’s instructions. Ren smiled encouragingly. “There’s already a replacement. Hyunjin recommended one of his colleagues, and I think he’s a great fit for us.”
“Does this replacement have a name too?”
“Lee Minho.”
Calla blinked. “Come again?”
“Lee Minho. You’ve probably heard of him; last year he won the national championship in...”
Ren’s voice faded into the background as Calla fought with her wildly pounding heart. Deeply buried emotions erupted with such force, the ground beneath her feet shook. How long had it been since she last heard his full name, let alone said it? Three years, two weeks, and four days.
Ren was still talking. Calla blinked away the bitter tears and returned to her body.
“He already accepted. All we need is your ‘okay’, and we can get started. Ain’t that great?”
“Yeah, great,” Calla said through gritted teeth.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
The dance academy was an imposing building with curved shapes and tall windows. Haze enveloped the campus in an eerie atmosphere, the first rays of sunlight barely breaking through the wall of fog. A few students had gathered around a bench, practicing the steps of some choreography.
Calla had been sitting in the car for an hour. Ever since Ren had told her the news a few days ago, she hadn’t been able to sleep well, waking up repeatedly from fitful slumber. She was biting her fingernails. Maybe it was another Lee Minho. Maybe it was actually a woman, and Lee Minho was her stage name. Someone who was a completely different person. Someone who hadn’t broken her heart.
In a few minutes, she learned the truth, and hiding in the car was no use.
Calla took a deep breath, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and marched briskly across the campus. The air smelled wet and fresh, which helped clear her mind a little.
The door to the dance academy swung open automatically. She knew the map by heart from her time with Hyunjin; he had his own dance studio here, where they rehearsed the choreography for their show. And yet, today felt as if Calla were walking through the tiled entrance hall towards the info desk for the first time.
“Good morning, I’d like to see Lee Minho, please.”
“Your ID, please.” The clerk checked her ID. “Ah, Ms. Calla, you’re already expected. Go outside and turn left into the adjacent building, where you’ll take the elevator to the seventh floor.”
“No door number?”
The clerk smiled politely. “Oh, you can’t miss it.”
“Understood, thank you.” She picked up her ID again and, with a queasy feeling that grew stronger with each step, she approached the adjacent building with the elevator that took her up and up.
The seventh floor was a single dance floor, the doors to the restrooms and other areas barely noticeable. Sofas and cozy cushions lined the wall. Tables filled with modern technology. Sparkling clean mirrors. Calla wanted to cry and throw up at the same time. This place smelled so irrefutably of Minho.
Her body felt like a soggy cookie as she continued walking through the open space. And then she saw him. Leaning on his forearm, Minho was typing on a laptop.
Calla tapped on the wall.
“Just a minute,” Minho said, holding up a finger.
His voice sent a shiver down Calla’s spine.
And then their eyes met through the mirror.
Minho stood up. “Calla,” he said quietly and turned around. His dark eyes won an emotion, something Calla couldn’t interpret.
The tension between her and Minho was almost tangible. A crackling. Calla could feel her pounding heartbeat in her ears. She regretted not having put enough pressure on Ren to find another replacement.
Memories, black and sticky, crushed her heart. Questions she never wanted to ask swirled in her mind. How had Minho been doing these past three years, two weeks, and seven days? Was he suffering as much as Calla? Had he found someone new? If not, why had he never bothered to reach out to her? We could have talked about anything.
Minho still looked incredibly good. He’d gotten a bit more muscular, and his hair was longer. He hadn’t changed on the outside, yet everything felt so foreign.
“Good you’re here,” Minho said, turning the laptop towards Calla. “I’ve been practicing everything with Hyunjin’s videos for the past few days, we can get started right away.”
Calla stood there, unmoving. The room seemed to shrink.
Minho eyed her up. “We should start with some stretches, okay?” His voice came from far away.
Calm down, girl, be professional. “I’m going to change,” she said tersely, turning sharply.
The warm-up exercises helped Calla tame her chaotic emotions. What would Ren say? She didn’t know their past; she didn’t know that they were once a couple and that Minho had broken up with her. Ren would encourage Calla to keep going, to work out her feelings with exercise... or something like that.
Training with Minho was definitely different, nothing compared to Hyunjin. But it could also be due to the charged tension in the room. To simulate the performance on dry land, they arranged four mats so that a square formed in the middle. Calla danced on the mats as if it were the ice rink; Minho danced in the middle. Connected with colorful, elastic bands, these made for a particularly beautiful visual performance. All that was missing were the outfits... and the makeup...
At first, they practiced without the bands, after the first run-through, with them. Music played in the background; a rhythmic song that added depth to the movements. Minho’s movements were fluid like water, powerful yet gentle. Calla noticed this... begrudgingly.
Calla dropped her ribbons and performed a simple Axel. She went back to the front and picked up the ribbons, which she threw into the air — at the same time as Minho — to catch them. The ribbons wrapped around the athletes, Calla’s hands finding purchase on Minho’s shoulder and upper arm, while he stabilized Calla’s back and hips.
Their eyes met. A gentle emotion shimmered in his dark eyes, and for a long, agonizingly sweet moment, Calla lost herself in them.
Being so close to him again— it felt like it did back then. Every morning he had woken her up with gentle kisses on her neck; massaged her feet after a long day; cooked for her; laughed together about the silliest things. Minho’s touch felt so warm, so... familiar. Everything about him was familiar.
Calla’s heart was a barless prison, and Minho was the warden.
She pushed him away and turned her back on him. If the show, her reputation, meant nothing to her, she would have ended the collaboration with the dance academy right this instance.
“Are you okay, Calla?” Minho asked from behind her. The softness in his voice- another stab in her heart.
She sniffed, gasping for air. “No, nothing’s okay. If- If I have to look at you any longer, I might cry.” Her throat tightened and her voice broke. “I’ve already shed enough tears because of you.”
The silence around her grew louder, thicker; she could practically feel Minho’s intense gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know this doesn’t make it any easier.”
Calla sniffed and shook her head. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself so she wouldn’t float away.
“If I could, I would—”
The feeling in her legs returned. “See you tomorrow at the ice rink,” she said breathlessly. With her eyes downcast, she packed her things and fled the dance studio.
