Archive of Our Own

Within the university hallways, a piercing screech rings out as the clock strikes noon. 

Heads turn, eyes widen, and the school princes are looked at with a certain degree of fear. The theater department building is bustling within seconds once time continues to move again, the sounds of shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors drowning out the horror.

The students clear the way as Zhang Hao proceeds to look at the cast list, his mouth parted and his eyes tearing up. There is no way. Everything he had worked so hard for— the after school hours, the vocal lessons, the one-on-one dance training— snatched in seconds. Even the school knew it was supposed to be him.

He stumbles backwards into Taerae, his best friend, and grips onto him with fervor. “No…this can’t be,” he whispers under his breath, walking further and further backwards until he nears the stairs. A fellow student bumps into him and profusely apologizes, yet Hao is too distracted with his own grief to care.

Others are looking now, peering at the cast list for the upcoming musical— Flashdance! An iconic 80’s movie turned into a colorful stage production of twirling around Jazzercise style, dressed in ridiculous high-cut leotards and bright neons. Hao can’t seem to catch his breath, in denial of the man who landed the love interest.

Alex Owens – Anatchaya Suputhipong 

• Understudy - Julie Han

Nick Hurley – Sung Hanbin

• Understudy - Zhang Hao

Sung Hanbin of all people— the same Sung Hanbin that transferred earlier during the year, stealing the thunder of their small private arts college. Yanking away Hao’s main position in show choir, knocking him down in grades, and finally, stealing his beloved role. 

Another step, and Hao grips onto the stair railing whilst clutching his chest. He watches Hanbin skip over to the cast list, a wide smile breaking out on his face. Upon looking down the list, his grin falls. And then he witnesses Hao’s final fall from grace.

His literal fall from grace.

Within moments, Hao is tumbling down the stairs, arms flailing as he fails to catch onto Taerae’s arm, a pathetic squeak leaving his lips as he rolls down the flight. He doesn’t know how long it takes to get to the bottom— eyes sutured shut with a hand still over his heart.

Then he opens his eyes to his next downfall. 

“Are you…okay? It looks like you fell pretty hard.”

Seok Matthew. Second transfer student of the year— ace basketball player of the university’s only successful sports team. He’s a scholarship student, not associated with the arts in any way like the others are. The popular jock, one that stays in his own clique of like-minded people. The heartthrob, the sweetheart, the other main character.

He’s looking at Zhang Hao like everyone else is: horrified. He’s extending out his hand, a small smile on his lips as he ignores the curious wave of people gathering around Hao. Taerae comes stumbling down next, dropping to his knees with a panicked expression. 

“Hao?!” He calls out, clutching his hands together. “ Hao! ”

“Enough,” Hao hisses, lightly pushing his best friend out of the way, sighing in defeat. This is it. This is where everything ends.

He hears another voice from above him— a happy shout from the distance. 

“Oh my god ?! I got a role?!” It’s Gunwook’s voice, a fellow jock and curious new addition to the theater department. Hao’s eyes widen in terror. This can’t be happening. He leans upon his elbows, watching as more people trail their eyes over the cast list, paying no attention to Hao’s demise.

“No…this is all wrong…” he drones off, Matthew still standing over him with an outstretched hand. Without thinking, Hao takes it and pulls himself off the ground. Matthew is a few inches shorter than him, wearing a worn jersey and a silver necklace. He’s cute, but Hao knows better than to mingle with people he’s far above. 

“Ricky…has a role? That geek ?” a voice cries out from the first floor, distracting a blubbering Hao. He cranes his neck to the top of the stairs, watching as Shen Ricky, the backspot cheerleader and art history major stares at the set list. 

“And… Gyuvin? ”

That’s it, the final straw. No way Kim Gyuvin of the nerds has a spot in his musical. 

Hao holds his head in his hands, the dizziness taking over. Matthew steps forward, fingers hovering in the air as he debates on whether or not he’s allowed to touch the school prince. His hands fall away as a sudden choir of voices ring out. It happens suddenly like it always does during dramatic moments like this, something that Hao had gotten used to his first year.

It’s the jocks to sing out first, crying towards Gunwook: “No! No, no, no! Stick to the status quo! If you wanna be cool, follow one simple rule, don’t mess with the flow no, no! Stick to the status quo!”

Gunwook stumbles back, bumping into Gyuvin, who looks at him with the same amount of fear and confusion. Matthew turns towards Hao again, concern written all over his face. Instantaneously, the school is singing— a ridiculous, unanimous number that comes out of nowhere. 

“B-but! Dancing is my secret passion!” Gunwook shouts, back pressed up against Gyuvin’s, facing the singing university kids.

“Not another peep!” the crowd chants.

“Hao, why are they singing—” Matthew half-shouts, in awe at the harmonious school. 

It’s the brainiacs next, a horde of students pointing towards both Gyuvin and Ricky with loud voices: “Open up, dig way down deep! Are you even legal? Stick to the stuff you know! It’s better by far to keep things as they are, don’t mess with the flow, no, no! Stick to the status quo!”

“B-but…I just wanted to try!” Ricky screeches.

“Well, if the others want to dance then I’ll come clean too!” Gyuvin shoots a fist up into the air. “I love to play the piano!”

There’s a massive hush from the crowd, then they continue once more: “Not another word! Stick to the stuff you know! If you wanna be cool, follow one simple rule, don’t mess with the flow, no, no! Stick with the status quo!”

Taerae even joins in, dancing around his best friend, knowing every step in the unspoken repertoire. 

“What is going on?!” Matthew backs up against a table, falling over the clique of “hippies.” They look at him and sing, pulling him onto the bench and twirling around him like their lives depend on it. His eyes follow their movements, chest heaving up and down in fear.

Hao’s eyebrows furrow as he shoots a glare at Taerae, marching back up the stairs and gripping the railing that overlooks the first floor of the department. He takes a big breath and shouts.

“Everybody, quiet!” 

He stalks around for a few moments within the silence, the dancing and singing halted by the sheer sound of his voice. He’ll use his final moments of power before the hierarchy falls for good.

“This is not what I want, this is not what I planned! And I just gotta say— I do not understand! Something is really— something’s not right…really wrong! And we gotta get things back where they belong!”

Someone interrupts him: “Stick with what you know!”

Another voice: “They have got to go!”

“But dancing!” Gunwook shouts.

“And piano!” Gyuvin says after him.

“What’s going on?” Ricky follows.

“Keep your voice down low! Not another peep!”

Then it ends. The perfect harmony dies down, the melodies no longer reverberating against the walls. Heavy breaths can be heard before the students return to their normal activities as if nothing insane just happened. 

And Hao stands at the foot of the school, one that he once ran. One that he commanded, hypnotized, and conquered.

And sinks to the ground once more.

🎤

The show choir practice room is dead silent when Hao and Taerae waltz in.

A week since the incident. 

Hao doesn’t find himself brave enough to speak over the others anymore, too lost in his own head. He watches as the jocks mingle with the geeks, the cheerleaders with the nerds, the skaters with the theater kids. It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, somehow enjoying the way the tiny campus bustles with the lack of cliques. 

Taerae thinks it’s stupid they function like a high school, but Hao will hiss at him every time he utters this statement. 

“This is dumb. This isn’t high school. Besides, it’s a great dance movie with a problematic romance— come on Hao, cheer up. I’m sure Hanbin won’t steal the other roles! And we both know he didn’t do this on purpose.” his best friend had argued.

He can’t even hate Hanbin, not with the way the fellow student looks at him in the hallways. He compliments Hao’s dancing, his acting, his style, and his makeup. Hao can’t even bring himself to make snarky comments towards him. He’ll never admit to the truth— that Hanbin couldn’t have possibly known what he had just done. 

The room is reduced to a chatter when warm up songs are played, the students paying no mind to the sulking Hao. A Lady Gaga song blasts while Taerae stretches his limbs and urges Hao to do the same thing, tugging at his impossibly rich clothes and giving him a look that says, you need to get over yourself.

But before Hao can even stand, another figure enters the room. 

None other than Seok Matthew barges in with his iconic basketball jersey and silver necklace dangling down this neck. Hao’s eye twitches, a mix of emotions swirling within his chest. Matthew reminds him of Hanbin, which reminds him of his fall, which then reminds him that he no longer remains in control. But Matthew is also cute— which is an unfortunate distraction. 

Hao takes a deep breath and exhales. “This is it, Tae. My final resting place. The plot of my demise. The holy relic of my captivity. The bane of my existence.”

“He’s a 5’7 basketball player, Hao.” Taerae responds, shaking his head. “By the way, he’s looking right at you.”

“Shut up. Don’t manifest shit like that,” Hao hisses back, his eyes widening as he watches Matthew make his way over to the pair. He shoots up from where he’s sitting and puts on a front as best as he can.

“You don’t belong here,” Hao spits, though it’s not as venomous as it would have been two weeks prior. 

Matthew cocks his head and almost pouts, a motion that makes Hao’s heart swell. “New addition. Second tenor.” He smiles wide. “I can dance. Who would’ve thought?”

Taerae gives Hao a smirk while in a lunge, adding a chuckle that will get him killed later.

“By the way, do you know what was up with the….the um…”

“The what ,” Hao snaps, rolling his eyes. 

“The singing and dancing in the theater building. There’s no way everyone just…knew the words and routines…I’m starting to think I made it up.”

“It’s a bit,” Hao says casually, looking at his nails. Matthew stares at him as if he’s trying to figure out if the Chinese man is being serious. 

“That is a wild bit, dude.”

“You wouldn’t get it, I fear.”

Matthew can only laugh at this, a sound that Hao wishes didn’t sound so cute. He wishes that Matthew was a brainless athlete he could find a valid excuse to hate. But he pushes the thought down, recognizing that main characters like Seok Matthew are reserved for the top dogs, the talk of the towns, the aces— the Sung Hanbins.

The basketball player shrugs. “I’ll just have to find out. Show choir has a number in the musical, don’t they?”

Hao looks at him with disgust. “ Don’t bring that up right now. Besides, you can’t possibly be one for singing and dancing.”

The basketball player takes a step forward and looks at Hao with a calculated look in his eyes. “Tell me, Hao. Do you think all I’m good for is shooting hoops?”

Hao is acutely aware of how close Matthew is standing to him, falling back against the wall behind him. He smells like cologne— not an unpleasant one, but something light and airy, easy on the nose. He can feel his cheeks flush with pink.

“I-I g-guess.”

Matthew takes another step, effectively caging Hao against the wall, his hand pressed next to Hao’s ear. The Chinese boy squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the way his heart betrays him. Matthew isn’t for him, he isn’t for h—

“Do you know what I think, Hao?” The words are threatening but the delivery is not. “I think you’re no Regina George. I think…” he tapers off, looking down at Hao’s lips. “You’re just cute. There’s no real hate in this heart of yours.” He smiles again, poking Hao’s chest where his heart lays behind.

Hao’s mouth drops, staring at Matthew like he’s grown three heads. If there’s one thing the school hasn’t been able to do, it’s to see right through him. Matthew hasn’t been there for very long— their first official meeting was on the floor of the theater building. Matthew hadn’t seen any of what Hao was like before. He has no idea how Matthew seems to know so much, and it’s scaring him half to death. 

He stutters and glances over to where Matthew’s hand is still pressed next to his ear. He can’t stay calm, not like this. It’s wrong, the way the main character takes interest in the side character. He’s not where he’s supposed to be.

“Enough,” Hao whispers, his gaze trained on the floor as he presses his palms against Matthew’s chest, gently pushing him away. Matthew obliges, stepping back as Hao swiftly slides past him.

“It’s true, isn't it? You’re a Sharpay Evans , not a Regina George. I’ve seen it.”

Hao snaps back around and tries to force a glare, but his face melts into something softer when he sees the way Matthew is looking at him. Genuine, goofy, sweet. The snarky comment dies on his tongue. He makes his way back to Taerae, defeated.

“I can’t do this,” he confesses, leaning against his best friend. Taerae offers him a hair ruffle.

“You folded immediately.”

Hao groans. “I know.”

“He’s right though.”

Hao lifts his head and glares at Taerae. “Is not.”

Taerae then proceeds to squish Hao’s cheeks together. “He is . There’s a reason why you’re not hated by everyone. Feared? Sure. But nobody hates you.”

Hao reflects on this statement for a moment, staring at the ceiling as he runs the permutations through his head. He had been popular— the prince of the school, the talent, the one early at every and all practices. Was he snotty? Yes. A bit arrogant? Yes. But mean? Not quite. 

“You never actually liked being mean, anyway. Aren’t you glad you don’t have to be anymore?”

Hao cannot believe his best friend says things so profound while doing a wall split. He gives him a look before slumping against the ground. He’ll have to unpack what all this means long after the show.

His thoughts are interrupted when someone else enters the room, none other than the second lead himself. Sung Hanbin is a friendly face to all who know him, greeting everyone and thanking those who congratulate him on landing the spot in the musical. Hao is reminded once more where he stands.

He watches as Hanbin makes his way to Matthew, giving him a brohug and a look far too intimate for Hao’s liking. Of course, he should have known. 

“Oh, Hao!” the enemy calls, making Hao’s heart speed up again. He jogs over. “I meant to congratulate you, too. I’m excited to be working with the best. By the way, are you okay…after that…fall?” He cringes at the end, knowing very well he could be pushing it.

But instead of snapping back, Hao gives him a weak smile. “Thank you. Congrats to you, too. And yes, I’m fine.” It’s still stiff, but there’s no bite.

Hanbin simply smiles and nods, returning to Matthew’s attention.

“See. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Taerae nudges Hao’s shoulder. “He’s cute, anyway.”

Hao glares. “Whose side are you on?”

Hao shakes away the comment and proceeds to lock into his practice, learning the new steps to their Flashdance! repertoire. Theater will begin with practices the day after, giving him enough time to mentally prepare himself for not being the main show-stealer for this musical. He’ll have to get used to seeing the stage light on Hanbin, and not on him and Taerae. At least Matthew isn’t in anything but the choir. 

Something possesses him to drag Taerae through the halls after choir practice, discreetly following the path Hanbin had taken earlier, arm and arm with Matthew. The basketball player had diverted to shoot hoops while Hanbin had taken a different route, a trail that Hao is hot on. 

The enemy slips into an empty dance room, one that’s only used by the cheerleaders on weekends. Hao forces Taerae out of sight and peeks into the window, watching as his rival slips off his hoodie and reveals a more fitted compression shirt. He plays a song and begins his warm up, one that’s followed with a dance routine. Hao’s heart falls once more.

Hanbin is talented. He deserves the spot he’s landed. He’s done nothing to be hated for it. Hao presses his back against the door and slides down, ignoring how Taerae crosses his arms.

“Get up diva, your crown is falling.”

“I'm nobody.”

“Matthew literally kabe-doned you two hours ago. What do you make of that?”

“You can’t possibly think he’s into me. Not when Hanbin is right there.”

“You’re right. I should pay attention to him more,” Taerae scoots his best friend out of the way and stares intently at the dancing man. “Wow, he’s perfect.”

“You’re not helping.”

Taerae drops down to where Hao has his knees to his chest. “Right, right. I hate him and all that— er, whatever means I’m on your side.” He pokes Hao’s cheek. “Maybe you two can be friends?”

“Never.”

Taerae laughs. “Of course.” Though he doesn’t seem to agree.

Hao goes home that night with a heavy heart, his mind stuck on the curious series of events that transpired that day. Matthew calling him out, Hanbin being nice, the way that Taerae was right about one thing. 

It’s relieving, to not have to pretend anymore.

—

Hao can’t understand why Matthew is in the theater building once more. Sitting right there in front of the stage, throwing a basketball up and down with a few jocks beside him. Maybe he’s there for Gunwook, or maybe he’s there to make Hao’s life a living hell.

He saunters over to the edge of the stage and puts a hand on his hip, Taerae mirroring the same pose. “Why are you here? Again.”

Matthew shrugs. “What, I can’t watch you perform?”

“I don’t watch you play game. Show choir isn’t required for this practice. I ask once more. Why are you here?”

Matthew stands up and walks over to where he’s peering up at Hao, a large grin on his face. “Gunwook is in the play too, you know. And Hanbin. Oh— and you.”

Hao scoffs. “I’m an understudy.”

“Just as important, no?” He bounces the ball, effortlessly catching it when it comes right back up. “Besides, I could take a few notes. I’m in the show too, anyway.” He bounces the ball again. “You’re also fun to watch.”

Hao steps back, gripping Taerae’s wrist. He really can’t be doing this. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re cute, Hao. What else could it mean?”

Hao’s mouth hangs in an open “o” while his best friend snickers beside him. The jock prince is flirting with him, not Hanbin. He drops down, squatting at eye level with the basketball player.

“Don’t say things like that to me.” The statement comes out as more of a plea than a threat.

Matthew only smiles at him. “I won’t. If that’s what you want.”

Hao is silent, eyes wide.

 “The way you’re looking at me tells me otherwise.”

“You…don’t know that.”

Matthew cocks his head and takes a step further, the sudden movement making Hao rock unsteady on his feet. 

“You could always watch me play, you know. I wouldn’t mind seeing you at a practice.” 

Hao shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Suit yourself.” Matthew shrugs and begins to walk away, right as Hao loses his balance and falls directly forward off the stage. In a split second, Matthew whips back around and stops Hao from tumbling to his probable death. It’s ridiculous, the way Hao’s hands are firm on Matthew’s shoulders, his waist being held tight by the jock. His face is redder than a tomato, looking down at their position. 

“I’m…sorry,” Hao whispers under his breath, losing all his bite.

“Shouldn’t you be more careful? You can’t be falling for me before the show.”

Hao pushes himself away from Matthew and scrambles back onto the stage. “W-why would you say that—”

“My bad, I didn’t mean to say more things like that to you,” Matthew smirks, stepping back as Hao crawls backwards.

“W-wait!” 

Matthew whips around at record speed. “Something wrong?”

“You…you can… nevermind ,” Hao sighs, getting to his feet. It’s pointless, he thinks. He expects Matthew to walk away, to not rethink his steps. But he comes back anyway, leaning against the stage.

“Hm?” Matthew has an incredible skill of saying condescending things without them actually sounding condescending. He taps his fingers on the stage.

“You don’t…really think I’m cute, do you?” 

“I do.”

“That…isn’t right.”

Matthew laughs again. “Why? Because you’re a theater geek and I’m a jock?”

Hao pouts, not missing the way Matthew stares at his jutted lips. “Something like that.”

“Tsk. This university is so strange.” 

He’s not wrong. Hao doesn’t really know what other school breaks out into unanimous dance routines at any given time. 

“I don’t mind it,” the Chinese boy whispers, avoiding eye contact as he shamelessly confesses.

“Perfect. You should come to my practice tomorrow, by the way. After show choir. We can walk together.”

It’s wrong again. This is not Hao’s destiny. He can only nod, reduced to a melted puddle of goo.

It’s over. It’s so Haover.

Hao continues practice with Matthew’s eyes on him the whole time. Granted, sometimes the jock will talk to Hanbin or Gunwook, even Gyuvin and Ricky. But when Hao is going over his dance steps, Matthew’s eyes never leave him.

Taerae is delighted, so to speak. Giggling at Hao, poking at Hao, teasing Hao. He’ll never hear the end of it.

Hanbin finds Hao at the end of practice, jogging over like they’re not enemies. Hao can’t remember how to scowl at this point.

“Hey! You did great today. I won’t be worried at all if I call in sick the day of the show,” he gently nudges Hao’s shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t wanna be your fill-in. You should be the one out there.” 

Hao has said many rude things in the past, but he can’t seem to bring himself to be mean to Hanbin. Certainly not with how cute he looks in that muscle tee. 

“That’s sweet.” Hanbin smiles— another pang to Hao’s heart, another confirmation to Taerae’s words. 

“See you at show choir tomorrow!” Hanbin calls, swiftly turning around to leave with Matthew. The jock gives one final look at Hao and winks.

Haover.

🎤

Hao cannot believe he’s sitting in Matthew’s court.

He’s without his counterpart, sitting with a leg over the other, hands clasped impossibly tight. He cannot believe he consented to this preposterous agreement…and flirting.

But he can’t deny the joy of being there— with Matthew’s bright smile and the way he effortlessly shoots the balls into the hoop. He looks good when he’s a bit sweaty, the jersey clinging to his skin a bit too much and the way his chest heaves in that jersey and—

“Enjoying?” Matthew calls out from the middle of the court, snapping Hao out of his PG-13 thoughts. He jumps up and fixes his shirt, clearing his throat.

“I don’t know anything about this game.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“I’d rather you not,” Hao says, but there’s a smile spreading across his face. He can’t seem to stop it from happening. 

Matthew dribbles over, albeit looking a bit silly. “I’m sure you’d listen to me.”

“That’s not true.”

“What about…if I sang to you?”

“Pfft. As if.” Hao rolls his eyes.

Matthew throws his head back and laughs. “You said it yourself. You can’t believe I’m one for singing and dancing.” He dribbles backwards with precision, Hao watching as his fellow teammates gather around him.

And then it starts. Hao stands up and looks around the room as the music begins to reverberate around the stands.

There’s no way. The basketball player is not stealing his bit.

“Coach said to fake right and break left, watch out for the pick,” Matthew starts to sing, watching with a wide grin as Hao stares in shock. “And keep an eye on defense, gotta run the give and go— and take the ball to the hole. But don’t be afraid to shoot the outside.”

“Jesus christ this is not happening,” Hao mutters, flying backwards into the stands. Matthew aligns with the rest of his teammates, jocks who have probably just learned how to dance in the last week, lacking the neatness the dance team carries. But it’s endearing.

“Just keep ya head in the game, just keep ya head in the game.”

“Seok Matthew, you are not—”

“You gotta get’cha head in the game, we gotta get our, get our, get our head in the game.”

“Matthew!”

Matthew slides over on his knees, reaching his hands out to Hao as he sings. Hao cannot believe he sounds this good.

“Let’s make sure that we get the rebound, ‘cause when we get it the crowd will go wild. A second chance, gotta grab it and go. Maybe this time we’ll hit the right notes.” He sings with a giggle, content washing over his face as Hao gingerly takes his hand. He leads him off the stands and twirls him around on the court.

Matthew spins around himself, albeit sliding on the slippery floor. Hao is the one to catch him this time. It doesn’t even throw off his groove, which impresses Hao. He wishes he could stop smiling.

The basketball player drops to his knees during the bridge of the song, looking up at Hao with giant eyes, his hands reaching out in an incredibly dramatic fashion. 

“Why am I feeling so wrong? My head’s in the game but my heart’s in the song. He makes me feel…so right.” He finishes the verse and takes a quick glance to Gunwook right behind him, frozen in a silly pose. “Should I go for it?”

Gunwook gives him a smirk. “He’s right there!”

The song moves on from the bridge to the chorus once more.

“You gotta get’cha head in the game, we gotta get our, get our, get our head in the game.”

The dribbles are slightly offbeat, but Hao can tell they worked hard for them to sound okay. Matthew and Gunwook are good dancers, he can’t quite deny that fact. The way Matthew moves is smooth and groovy, his body seamless and difficult to peel eyes away from. It’s unfair that he’s good at everything and looks attractive doing it.

The song ends with the team posing on their knees, chest heaving up and down as Matthew leads the pack with a blinding smile. It is becoming increasingly difficult to process what is going on at their school.

Hao blinks. Then blinks again, rapidly. 

“Matthew.”

The jock makes his way over, breathing heavily. “Zhang Hao?”

“When…did you…why did you— jesus christ, what.”

The jock laughs, wiping sweat off his face. “I lied. I knew it was a bit. I asked because I needed an excuse to talk to you.”

Stunned, Hao slumps back into the stands. “I can’t believe it. You’ve been here for like two months! How’d you learn that fast?!”

Matthew shrugs. “I’m adaptable.” He sits right next to Hao. “You liked it didn’t you? I proved myself to you. I can dance, right?”

Hao looks away with a huff. “Who said you can?” He nearly squeaks when Matthew repositions himself on the stand below Hao, looking up at him for a second time that week.

“I can’t?” He’s pleading with puppy-dog eyes, hair sticking to his forehead as he pants. That wretched cologne is wafting over Hao’s senses again, making him weaker and weaker by the second. Hao swallows down his pride.

“You can dance.”

Matthew pumps his fist in the air. “YES!” Hao can’t help but burst into laughter. Matthew is far too cute for his own good.

“But—” Hao stops for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the basketball player. Matthew stops celebrating for a moment and reduces himself to a whisper.

“What did I do wrong, prince?”

Hao ignores the nickname. “Your singing could use a little work. You’re a bit shaky when you dance.”

Matthew smiles again. “Great. Another excuse to talk to you.”

Hao goes beet red. “You… you.”

Matthew leans up just a bit closer, his eyes following the lines on Hao’s face with a smirk. “You’re so red, Hao. Isn’t that curious.”

“Enough!” Hao whisper-yells, though makes no effort to pull away from their close distance. But before he can say anything else, Hanbin rushes into the practice room.

“Matthew!” he calls, taking one look at his friend inches away from Hao. He halts in his tracks for a moment, eyes wide. Hao pulls back in fear, realizing once again where his position stands. That’s right— Hao knows that Hanbin must have something going on with Matthew. 

“I’m sorry— I just, I really need your help right now.” He pants, resting his hands on his thighs. “Sorry Hao…I’ll give him back later. I just need to borrow him for one second—”

“It’s fine,” Hao responds, promptly gathering his things and making his way across the courtyard and past the players. Matthew gives him an apologetic look before he storms out.

“Great performance, by the way,” is the last thing he can say.

🎤

Hao shouldn’t be nervous. He’s standing in the theater, thirty minutes early for practice.

He’s avoided Matthew for a week now, focusing entirely on his show choir routines and Flashdance! rehearsals. He’s got it all down, knowing full well he can act his heart out if need be. He never needs a second run-through of dances, either. And he’ll never do anything but go full-out in practice.

“Only those who don’t wish to train their bodies to be sharp mark the moves, Tae.” He’s said it countless times, earning him an eye roll.

“Let your body rest, Hao.”

He stretches diligently, wearing a loose pair of sweats and a cropped tank top. He can’t wait until he gets to wear the silly aerobics outfits on stage, even if he’s not the one in the spotlight. All prettied up, singing loudly, dancing with Matthew—

Scratch that.

Or continue it— Matthew makes his way into the theater wearing something a little different this time around. A compression shirt, similar to the ones that Hanbin wears. It’s too much, Hao clutches his heart and grabs Taerae’s arm.

“Oh, he looks cute today,” Taerae says.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“I think you’ve ignored him long enough. Look at the guy, he’s pouting for you.”

“Don’t say that—”

“Hao!” Matthew calls, much to Hao’s distress. He looks concerned as he jogs over, completely oblivious. Hao crosses his arms and turns around to face the wall.

“Why do you think that would work?” Taerae whispers in his ear, holding back a laugh.

Hao feels a hand on his shoulder and the hairs on the back of his neck shoot up. He whips around and places his hands on his hips.

“Yes?”

“Did I…do something wrong?”

Yes, actually. You belong with Sung Hanbin. Who am I to interfere with the fate of this college?

Of course he doesn’t have a real answer. “Why of course not. Why do you ask?”

Matthew awkwardly rubs his neck. “It just seems like…you’ve been ignoring me lately. I miss talking to you.”

Oh. He misses him. That’s new— that’s wrong . 

“I thought maybe we could practice the dance together?” Matthew says cautiously. Hao looks him up and down as if he’s sizing him up (totally not an excuse to look at his chest). 

“I’ve been busy. Don’t get the wrong ideas.” He huffs, though immediately feels regret the moment he sees disappointment wash over Matthew’s face. “I-I mean…we can dance together.”

Taerae snickers behind him. Folded, once more.

“Really?!” Matthew says, tone something akin to a golden retriever’s bark. Hao is not god’s strongest soldier.

“Yes, Matthew. Really. But.” He waggles his finger in front of Matthew’s face. “You have to keep up with me. Since you wanted to learn so much.”

Matthew enthusiastically nods his head. “I will, I will!” 

Hao has to hide the enormous blush blossoming on his cheeks. There’s a loud sound of books hitting the ground before the boys look up and see Hanbin on the floor, a pile of textbooks at his feet. He expects Matthew to save him, to jump to him like a dog. But he doesn’t, instead being beat out by none other than Taerae. 

“Hanbin! I’ll help you,” his best friend squeaks, dashing over to where Hanbin is frustratingly grabbing at his books. Hao narrows his eyes as the scene unfolds in front of him but shakes it off once he feels Matthew gently grab his hand.

“Perfect. I’m stealing you from him real quick. I’ll give him back later,” he winks, repeating the words Hanbin had said to Hao a week prior. Something drops in his stomach but he doesn’t let it affect him— not during something as crucial as practice.

Matthew pulls Hao to the backstage as the cast list loosely go over their lines. There’s no one back there but the two of them, the chatter muffled by the curtains. Hao realizes in horror that this is the first time they’ve been alone.

“Why are we back here?”

“I’m better at one on one.”

Hao looks at him. “Right. Of course.”

Matthew tilts his head and deviously smiles. “I, of course, need every excuse I can get to have you by yourself.”

Hao doesn’t feel like this moment is real. He stumbles back a bit, blinking in shock as he struggles to restore his heartbeat to a steady rhythm. He doesn’t miss the way Matthew moves closer to him.

“What do you need help with, Matthew?”

“The final scene. Where Jessica Beal’s character wows the judges with her iconic, unconventional routine…and gets into the program.”

Hao scoffs. “I’m surprised you know that.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know that I know. Like how Jessica Beal didn’t actually dance in that scene. In fact the original dancer, Marine Jahan, never got credit for being the double.”

Hao raises an eyebrow at him. “Very good, Matthew. You’re getting there.”

The basketball player gives him a smirk and moves a tad too close, their bodies inches away.

“Show me the steps?”

“Is this another excuse?”

Matthew shrugs. “Maybe. Too bad this isn’t Dirty Dancing the musical. Then we’d have to dance together.”

Hao cannot contain the heat that spreads across his ears. He gingerly rests his palms against Matthew’s chest as he looks at the ground.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve never ballroom danced before.”

Matthew uses his index finger and thumb to pull Hao’s chin to his attention. “That’s not true.”

Hao is lost under the touch of Matthew’s fingers, hands still pressed to his chest. “I-I don’t…believe you.”

“Salsa class one day? We could have fun.” He grins and pulls away from Hao. The Chinese boy already misses the contact. “But right now, I do really need help. I’m bad with counts.”

Hao snaps into dance mode and nods, fighting the urge to drag Matthew into a single-time swing, twirling him around to a 50’s song. Nevermind that. He has a job to do.

Matthew is a fast learner and an eager one at that. No matter how hard Hao barks directions, he follows them with a dopey smile on his lips. It’s endearing really, the way Matthew trips over himself every ten minutes yet remembers every move that Hao adds on. He looks even more attractive when he’s focused, hair clinging to his forehead as he watches Hao demonstrate.

Hao has always liked being watched. But being studied feels a little different, considering that the man looking at him is beautiful.

He almost doesn’t hear their names being called when practice officially starts, the thirty minutes being thrown to the wind as they lose themselves in the 80’s dance routine. Hao starts to seriously think about how nice it would be to waltz with Matthew, or even bump it up a notch and try his hand at bachata. He’d be nice and close to him, with hands all over each other. He brushes off the idea and rushes over to where he’s supposed to be.

It’s a curious, suspicious sight— the way the cast narrows their eyes at the two of them, Taerae and Hanbin hip to hip. 

Wait. 

“Oh…so that’s where you two were,” Taerae comments.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Hao gasps, though he’s half certain no one really cares.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Matthew laughs, throwing an arm over Hao’s shoulder. The older gives him a scowl.

“What? We were just dancing .”

Taerae rolls his eyes yet doesn’t address why he’s anywhere near Hanbin. “Save it.”

Hanbin gives Matthew a look that Hao can’t quite read. He doesn’t think about it too much.

Practice goes smoothly, albeit with Matthew tripping a few more times. He sneaks looks at Hao every so often, making sure to throw him a blinding smile. Hao tries his very best to ignore the growing pain within his heart, consistently reminding himself that he’s reserved for Hanbin.

At the end of practice, Hao finds himself recounting the steps to the dance, even if he already knows all of them to a T. Matthew makes his way over, sitting on the stage with his legs dangling off. His eyes follow Hao’s every move.

“You’re really admirable, you know that?” His words make Hao stop in his tracks. Matthew downs half a water bottle and then giggles.

“You could fill in for anybody, any day. That’s quite a skill to have.” He cranes his neck to see Hao standing behind him. “And you’re pretty, that’s unfair.”

Hao’s words are caught in his throat, staring down at Matthew for the umpteenth time. 

“You know, for someone that has quite the reputation of a ‘mean boy,’ you sure don’t know how to take compliments.”

There it is again. Looking through Hao like he’s made of glass. 

“I can take anything.”

“Hm. How about a kiss then?”

Hao looks at him in horror, jumping back a few feet and pointing an accusatory finger at the jock.

“Enough! Stop that!” he yells. Matthew crawls onto the stage and sits criss-crossed in front of him.

“My bad. Too far?”

Hao sighs and continues running through the routine, avoiding eye contact. “That’s not right, Matthew.”

The younger looks at him with confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Hao sighs and lets his arm fall to his sides. “People like you don’t end up with people like me .”

He regrets the words as soon as they fall from his lips, watching the way Matthew’s eyes go straight to the floor. He’s pulling himself up in seconds, brushing away the dirt on his jersey and climbing down from the stage.

“Wait— Matthew! I really didn’t mean that the way you th—”

“It’s okay. I get it. Jocks and theater kids don’t work out, whatever. I’m no match for your royal highness.” 

“No, that’s not—”

Hao can’t stop him, watching in pure sadness as he makes his way to the corridors, Hanbin waiting right at them.

Matthew doesn’t understand.

Hao is no match for his royal highness.

🎤

The show grows closer with Hao and Matthew farther apart.

They don’t greet each other in the hallways anymore, they don’t pass over gentle smiles. Taerae tells him to just talk to him, to just clear up the simple misunderstanding. But for what? For Matthew to end up with Hanbin anyway?

Practices are awkward, the two avoiding each other. Hao hates that Matthew has stopped the flirting altogether, focusing entirely on spending his time with Hanbin. But this is how it was always supposed to be.

Despite the loss of Matthew at his side, Hao turns a new leaf. He spends time with the nerds, noticing how well Gyuvin composes music. He sits at the geek table, noting how keen Ricky‘s fashion sense is. He even stops by to watch Gunwook shoot hoops, admiring how he never misses.

It’s hard to forget the way other students approach him with a smile instead of a cower. He finds it much easier to talk to people the way he’s always wanted to talk to them, with kindness. He hopes Matthew watches from afar, too.

Friday brings their first real run-through of the show. Rough and messy, but enough to get by. Hao can’t deny the fact that Hanbin is incredible on stage, never missing any of his lines or forgetting any of his steps. He’s even nicer than he was before, telling Hao that he wishes he had the kind of stage presence he does. 

Hao likes Hanbin a lot. But he’s not quite ready to say it out loud. He can’t really dislike him, not with how wonderful he is.

“Hao!” Hanbin calls in the evening after their rough rehearsal, Matthew just a few feet away. His presence makes Hao remember exactly what he wishes he hadn’t said. The jock’s face is blank, unreadable.

“Hm?”

“We should totally take a dance class together.”

“Us…?”

Hanbin cocks his head. “Who else?”

“Oh.”

The notion strikes him as odd. Hanbin? Wants to hang out with… him?

“If not, it’s okay! I’ll just take M—”

“I’ll go.”

Hanbin breaks out into a smile. “Perfect. Do you like tutting? There’s a 7 pm class tomorrow night downtown. If not, we can choose something eas—”

“Tutting sounds fun.” 

It’s something to get his mind off of Matthew, with the bonus of hanging out with Hanbin. 

“Can we meet there? I think I already have your number in the group chat.” 

Hao nods with a weak smile, throwing a glance to Matthew who is now waiting near the theater seats. He gives him a nod. 

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Hanbin claps his hands together. “I’ll see you tomorrow then!” 

Hao watches in sadness as his enemy runs off with Matthew for an umpteenth time. He sighs, plopping down and resting his head on his knees. He feels a presence right next to him.

“You’re torturing yourself, Hao,” comes Taerae’s comforting voice. Hao lays his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

“I know.”

“You don’t. Hao, look at me,” Taerae says, grabbing both of Hao’s shoulders and turning to face him. “Hao. You have got to shake the idea of what’s supposed to be wrong and right. We are in college, that shit literally has no basis here.”

“But it did.”

“Yeah. It did.”

“So you admit it. Matthew doesn’t end up with people like me.”

“No,” Taerae grabs Hao’s face. “There’s no way he doesn’t like you.”

“He likes Hanbin. I just know he does.”

“With what evidence are you gonna prove this?”

Hao sulks, glaring as Taerae squishes his cheeks together. 

“See? You’re assuming things. You’re putting people in roles. Stop that.”

Hao looks down, defeated. He feels the tears prick at his eyes.

“I just think…after my fall…my literal fall…everything I wanted would no longer be in my hands. Why wouldn’t Hanbin get the man too?”

Taerae shakes his head. “You’re impossible.” He gently raps his knuckles on Hao’s skull. “Get it out of your head. Start being a little nicer to yourself.”

Hao forces a smile, a tear already falling. Taerae is right, he’s always right.

“Just let it happen, Hao. Hanbin isn’t some main character stealing your thunder on purpose. He’s just…a guy who happens to be as talented as you are. Plus, have you seen that man? There is not an evil bone in his body. He’s also really beautiful—”

“I get it, Tae,” Hao says, though it’s with a laugh. His best friend wipes his tears and pats his cheeks. 

“Just talk to him, alright?” 

Hao nods, letting Taerae pull him from the ground. 

He takes one look at the lights above him and takes a deep breath.

🎤

Hao hasn’t taken a dance class in ages.

He’s thankful that Hanbin convinced him to get out of his shell, even if they’re meant to be mortal enemies. He’s intimidated too, knowing full well that this is Hanbin’s true element. He’s never seen a man with cleaner moves before. 

“Have you ever tutted before?”

Hao shrugs, still a bit awkward as it’s the first time they’ve been one-on-one together.

“A little bit. Can’t say it’s something I’m particularly good at.”

Hanbin laughs. “That’s okay. It’s fun to try new things. Plus, everyone here is really nice. And I’ll help you, of course.”

There’s a blush on Hao’s cheeks as he nods. Hanbin really is a nice guy.

They stretch in silence together, following the instructor at the front of the room. It’s a two hour class, one that’s not filled with too many dancers. It’s comfortable at least, with open windows facing the bustling of downtown. Hao wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how to word it yet, instead focusing on getting his right splits down. Hanbin goes into them seamlessly, giving Hao a toothy smile. He’ll have to work on that one.

The instructor begins teaching the choreo with precision, knowing that it’s an intermediate class. Hanbin was confident that Hao could handle the level. The teacher goes through one eight-count before Hanbin turns to him.

“I had an underlying reason to bring you here, you know.”

This is it. This is when Hanbin reveals his villainous plan. 

“I wanted to talk to you about Matthew.”

Hao gulps, terrified of what Hanbin’s next words will be. He’s mine! Or, back off! You know better, Zhang Hao.

“He’s incredibly sad that you two aren’t talking right now.”

Hao’s illusion crashes inward upon itself. He snaps his head to Hanbin, trying his best to follow with the moves while maintaining a conversation. 

“What?!”

Hanbin throws him a smile. “Why do you sound so surprised?” He laughs and nudges Hao’s shoulder. “Let me guess, you assumed we were a thing.”

“W-well. Well, yes!”

“Tsk-tsk, Hao. What made you assume that?”

“I don’t know…you were just— always together. But why does it matter anyway?”

Hanbin effortlessly goes through the routine, double-tasking like he’s done it a million times before. “We’re childhood friends, Hao. For the love of god, I could never date that man.”

The words feel like a punch to Hao’s entire fantasy. 

“Sure, he’s charming. And believe me— we’ve tried . I kissed him once freshman year of high school and it immediately didn’t feel right. But I love him.”

Hao stumbles upon his eight-count, barely registering that the instructor has added on another one. 

“B-but…”

“I just want to know what you were thinking.”

Hao looks at him, frozen in place as the rest of the dancers carry on with the routine. For some strange reason, Hao feels entirely compelled to spill his whole life story to his sworn enemy.

“What I said to him…” he starts, trying desperately to keep up. “When I said that someone like him shouldn’t end up like me…” he feels himself choke up. “I didn’t mean that the way he thought I did. It was a reflection of my own insecurities.”

Hanbin chuckles.

“I figured that much was true. Just had to hear it for myself.” Hanbin turns to him, disregarding the dance for a moment. “Matthew said you weren’t really a mean boy. He said you probably didn’t actually hate me. Turns out he was right.” He continues the dance. “Besides, Taerae told me all that I needed to know.”

Hao looks at him in disbelief. “What did that snake tell you? I mean, hey — wait! How often are you talking to my best f—”

“Focus on the teacher, Hao,” Hanbin giggles, watching as Hao trips over his feet. Maybe Hanbin is evil.

Hao feels a little lighter, learning that Matthew feels just as lonely without him. He knows that Hanbin isn’t telling him something else, assuming that he’ll just have to ask Matthew himself. Tutting is hard for him, but it’s not as hard as coming to terms with erasing the mindset of his stupid hierarchies and assigned archetypes.

Hanbin drives him home that night, giving him a final clue.

“By the way. He really wants to take that salsa class with you.”

🎤

Flashdance! has brutal rehearsals the week before the performance.

Hao finds himself clinging to Hanbin whenever he gets the chance, not questioning why Taerae is always there first. He can’t seem to approach Matthew yet, instead throwing him anxious glances and hiding behind Hanbin’s back. 

“He’s just putting on a front, Hao. He isn't really mad at you. You have to believe me,” Hanbin had said over and over again.

Well, Hao knows a thing or two about putting on a front.

Thursday’s rehearsal is particularly worse than the others. Hao finds his voice strained and his muscles aching from hours of practice every day. It’s one thing to be a theater kid, but another to be a show choir kid. Ever since he was in high school, Zhang Hao never had much of a break.

But he perseveres anyway, ignoring the grueling aches in his body and the pit of anxiety brewing in his stomach. He makes sure his outfit is neatly pressed and spotless: a bright neon green leotard with knee-high socks that blind the eyes. His hair will be slightly curled and darkened for the showing, pressed tightly in place with a heaping load of hairspray. And he’ll be perfectly ready as an understudy as need be, already having an alternate sorted out if he needs to abandon his spot in the choir.

Matthew is hardly a concern at this point. He’s late from basketball practice, rushing into the room with Gunwook at his side. The director spent a whole practice arguing with the coach a month ago, finally agreeing that the two would simply have to share the players for the time being. Hao spares him just a single glance, one that’s returned with a curt head nod. He scrunches his face up.

“Are you gonna say anything today? The show is next week,” Taerae’s voice tickles his ear. Hao whips around and slaps his best friend on the arm.

“Don’t creep up on me like that. And god, let me build up some courage, would you?”

Taerae shrugs. “It’s been weeks, Hao. You’ve been dancing around him— literally — for weeks.” Taerae pats his back. “Remember our talk. And what Hanbinnie said.”

Hao narrows his eyes. “So we’re on nickname basis with him now?” 

Taerae’s face goes pale. “I’m not speaking on that without my lawyer present.”

Hao shakes away the suspicion and eyes down the basketball player. He’s rushing into his clothes, warming up with the rest of the show choir. Hao knows he’s purposefully avoiding looking in his direction. Scoffing, he turns to Taerae once more.

“It’s like he hates me.”

“He wants you so bad, dude.”

Hao ignores his best friend for the first half of rehearsal, locking in on Hanbin’s every movement as Nick Hurley, the way he effortlessly acts as if he’s head over heels for Jessica Beal’s character. It’s no wonder that the entire school has fallen in love with him. He sings like he’s at the edge of the world and he dances like he’ll die at any second. It’s hard to tear eyes away from his stunning performance qualities. 

He’ll have to agree with Taerae on this one— Hanbin is dreamy.

Intermission comes around and Hao works on warming up his vocals, though his throat hurts to no avail. He catches the tail end of Matthew running backstage for some unknown reason, peeling off his show jacket. Hao tiptoes as surreptitiously as he can, pressing his back against the wall and sliding backstage to quietly observe his crush. Matthew is stretching on his own in a lunge facing the wall. 

“You’re not slick.”

Hao jumps at the sound of Matthew’s semi-irritated voice, worried that maybe he’s already lost his chance for good. He sighs and slowly makes his way over to the basketball player, standing right in front of him with crossed arms. His body language is meant to be commanding but he feels anything but in control. Matthew exits his lunge and levels his eyes at Hao.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

Matthew sighs and looks at the ground. “I know.”

“No you don’t understand like I’m really —”

“How could I have misunderstood what you meant?”

Hao lets his arms fall to his sides as he presses his back against the wall. The emotions that bubble in his chest are wildly overwhelming, the urge to cry being the worst one. He deeply inhales and begins his monologue.

“I didn’t mean that I was out of your league, Matthew. What I said had nothing to do with cliques and hierarchies and everything dumb that I used to believe this school thrived upon.”

Matthew cocks his head, looking Hao up and down. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant that it didn’t make sense for you to possibly like someone like me.” Hao’s voice cracks at the end of his statement before he continues. “You seemed like you’d be perfect for someone like Hanbin. After you met me on the floor of the theater, I just assumed that all I had worked for was for nothing.”

Matthew shakes his head, but his face softens. 

“It was a dig on me, not you,” Hao continues. “I didn’t think I deserved that spot. I didn’t think that I was good enough for it.”

Matthew sighs and takes a step towards Hao, once again caging him against the wall. This time, Hao welcomes it. 

“This school is so weird.” He laughs. “You probably already know, but Hanbin and I are just friends. That’s my ride or die. But I’m not interested in him and never was.” He leans in a bit closer. “No wonder you didn’t give in.”

Hao sucks in a breath as the smell of Matthew’s cologne wafts over him.

“The theater prince and the jock on scholarship. You’re right, it sounds a bit like an 80’s movie.” He’s a bit shorter than Hao, just barely looking up. Hao thinks it's ridiculously cute.

“I mean…we are performing a cliche 80’s movie,” Hao squeaks out. Matthew glances at his lips and laughs.

“You’re always so easter to fluster, Hao.”

“You have me against the wall!”

“Would you prefer to be elsewhere?”

Hao’s mouth gapes open. 

“Come on. Say it. Tell me you don’t want me here.” He closes the distance even further, his lips ghosting upon Hao’s. It takes everything in him to not steal a kiss.

“I…”

“Hm?” Matthew’s eyes are locked onto Hao’s lips with fervor. Hao slides both of his hands up Matthew’s torso to land at either side of his neck.

“I like it,” he confesses lowly, his thumb swiping over Matthew’s prominent collarbones.

Matthew pulls away, much to Hao’s distress. His next words send the Chinese man into orbit.

“Does prince Hao want a kiss?”

Hao squeezes his eyes together impossibly tight. “Yes. Very much.”

Matthew leans in for a second time, gently keeping Hao tight against the wall. His lips nearly touch Hao’s until they don’t— and he’s giggling instead, detaching himself from a bright red Hao.

“Hey— wait! You can’t just— oh my god .” Hao nearly scrambles after him, grabbing Matthews hand and whipping him back around. “Matthew, I spent weeks trying to figure out how to tell you I wanted you.”

Matthew laughs. “Then you’ll just have to wait a bit more. Besides, don’t kisses always happen at the end of a movie?”

“Are you telling me that you’ll kiss me next week?”

“Precisely.” He takes a step forward. “But for now, have this.” Matthew has to stand slightly on his tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to Hao’s cheek. “Intermission is over, by the way.”

Matthew leaves Hao holding his cheek, mouth dropped open as he skips back onto stage. 

Safe to say, rehearsal works out more than one kink in their showcase.

🎤

Despite not being the main lead this time around, Hao has never felt nerves this jittery since junior high school.

Flashdance! is terribly popular with boomers, the crowd filled with faces that are decades older than his own. Though their university is small, their productions are not. Hao knows that the people watching expect not a good show, but a phenomenal one. 

The weekend was tough, to say the least. Having Matthew’s phone number is an incredible distraction to Hao’s strict regimen of show choir practice. He can’t believe how much the younger shamelessly flirts with him and leaves him hanging every minute they’re together. Hanbin and Taerae take turns tag-teaming Hao in the teasing department, asking how and why they haven’t locked lips yet (Hanbin can’t stand to hear Matthew daydream about it one more time).

It’s no secret that the entire school suspects something budding between the two of them, not missing their flirtatious looks in the hallways and standing in at each other’s practices. Hao learns basketball for Matthew and Matthew learns how to read music for Hao. It’s a perfect blend. 

Hao loves his preposterously glittery appearance, the bright neons pairing well with the highlighter shimmering on his cheekbones and lips. He looks like he could be an on-screen aerobics teacher, his grainy figure on a VHS tape at home. He finds that Matthew looks even better. His goofiness pairs well with his neon pink leotard and green headband. It’s a look they’ll never forget.

Hao’s first few acts on stage are strictly performed by the pom-dance team— Maniac by Michael Sembello, followed by Karen Kamon’s Manhunt . He’s all smiles when his feet hit the floor, following every step with perfection as the center of the dance mob. He’s unstoppable under the spotlights, just like he’s always been. 

Hao has never missed a move on stage before, not with his dedication to going full-out in every practice. He knows he commands the stage, and he knows the rest of the cast are watching him in awe. Even if he’s not the main character, Zhang Hao is hard to miss.

He’s lost in the performance when Hanbin effortlessly carries out his role, along with Natty, a fellow ace actress and someone Hao wishes he could talk to more. They’ve switched it up a bit— Ricky plays Jeanie Szabo’s character, an aspiring figure skater that doesn’t land her audition in the movie, but lands it in their school’s rendition. Gyuvin and Gunwook play the non-problematic versions of the men within the movie, much to Hao’s relief. And Hanbin is the love interest’s coworker, not her boss. Family-friendly, to say the least.

They get closer and closer to the end of the performance, when the entire cast gets together (lead by show choir) to carry out the iconic ending song. Hao can almost feel the way that Matthew is looking onwards from the sidelines, blending in with the crowd during his off scenes. He’s powered by the idea of running into Matthew’s arms and kissing him stupid, something akin to Pretty in Pink or The Breakfast Club.

And when the final moment rolls around, he’s more than ready.

The entire cast arranges together across the stage, a massive group of dancers, singers, and actors ready to stand behind Natty as the final scene commences, the iconic 80’s song blasting into the speakers as the routine begins. Hao takes a deep breath and flashes a good luck smile to Matthew who catches his eyes just in time for the synthwave rhythm. 

“First, when there’s nothing, but a slow gleaming dream— that your fear seems to hide deep down inside your mind. All alone,  I have cried, silent tears full of pride. In a world made of steel, made of stone.”

It starts off slow, reflecting the moment Jessica Beal’s character confuses the judges with her anything but conventional dance routine. Natty performs as it’s seen on screen, turning and arabesqueing in the black leotard while the panel of judges pretend to look unimpressed. The song speeds up and cuts to the chorus as she throws her hands to the ceiling, the ensemble behind her booming with harmonized voices and synchronized moves.

“What a feelin,’ being’s believin.’ I can have it all, now I’m dancing for my life.”

Hao twirls around like his life depends on it, his smile so wide it’s hurting his face.

“Take your passion and make it happen. Pictures come alive, you can dance right through your life.

The dance break follows this; Natty does the iconic dive into a tumble, the crowd screeching in response as she lands the move perfectly. A dangerous pursuit, but one that pays off quite well.

A select few of the ensemble back her for this part, Hao included. He’s in the spotlight again, living his 80’s fantasy and throwing the crowd all kinds of looks. He joins the rest of the team once more as they band together for the final moments.

“What a feeling (I can really have it all). What a feeling (Pictures come alive when I call). I can have it all (I can really have it all). Take your passion, make it happen.”

Natty runs towards Hanbin’s character and jumps into his arms, indicating that she had indeed passed the audition. The crowd cheers as the rest of the songs plays out. 

“What a feeling, being’s believin.’”

The number ends as well as the show, concluding with an incredible round of applause. Everyone is standing up, hollering for the cast members as they hold hands for the bow.

Hao can see all of what he couldn’t before— the cliques that separated the school, mixed between each other, all shouting with the same intensity. He looks over to his fellow cast mates: Gunwook the jock, Gyuvin the nerd, Ricky the geek.

And Matthew. The main character. Hao’s main character.

The stage curtains fall to a dramatic close as he gently pushes his way past the onslaught of people, doing exactly what he’s intended to do for months. He feels like Molly Ringwald in the moment, nearly collapsing against Matthew’s chest as he engulfs him into a hug that’s immediately reciprocated. He doesn’t care that the entire cast is giggling at him, knowing full well that it would always end like this.

There’s only a quick glance between them before Matthew reaches up and kisses Hao once and for all, gripping onto his neck as they stand amidst the stage. Hao kisses him right back, fighting back the smile and laugh that bubbles up within his throat.

They pull back only to catch their breaths, followed by another passionate kiss. Hao rests his forehead upon Matthew’s.

“What a cliche,” Matthew chuckles under his breath.

🎤

The theater building is bustling with students the Monday following the show. 

Hao hand in hand with Matthew, and Hanbin hand in hand with Taerae (rumor is they went home together Saturday night, but Hao will wait until Taerae admits it himself). Hao peers over the balcony he once looked over just a few months prior, falling to his defeat.

Though it wasn’t really a defeat.

Matthew gives him one silly look before nudging Hanbin. And then he starts clapping along with the others. Hao smiles back at him and flies down the stairs as the unanimous breakout of the song begins.

“Together, together, everyone. Together, we’re there for each other every time. Together, together, come on let’s do this right.”

Matthew takes Hao’s hand and hoists him into a shoulder sit, one that Hao flawlessly falls out of as Matthew catches him bridal style. His singing is more stable this time around.

“Here and now, it’s time for celebration. I finally figured it out. That all our dreams have no limitations, that’s what it’s all about.”

Hanbin twirls Taerae around while Gyuvin is passed around by Gunwook and Ricky.

“Everyone is special in their own way. We make each other strong (we make each other strong). We’re not the same, we’re different in a good way. Together’s where we belong.”

The seven men join the rest of the ensemble, feet rumbling the ground as the chorus proceeds.

“We’re all in this together. Once we know that we are, we’re all stars, and we see that. We’re all in this together. And it shows, when we stand, hand in hand, make our dreams come true.”

Hao doesn’t think about how the other art buildings are likely sick of their shit by now, instead lost on the feeling of Matthew’s hands at his waist. It’s a feeling better than the spotlight, being held by the basketball player he tried so hard to avoid. There’s a few more lines before the song finally concludes, the entire building harmonizing perfectly.

“Together, together, together everyone. Together, together, come on let’s have some fun. Together, together, we’re there for each other every time. Together, together, come on let’s do this right.”

The crowd cheers as Hao squeezes Matthew from behind, planting a kiss on both of his cheeks. He’s whipped around in minutes before the two are kissing properly— right at the center of the room with the lasting melodies carried out. Hao throws his arms around Matthew’s neck as his friends dance around him with wide smiles.

Haover? 

Not quite.