Park Jisung
A normal teen with a passion for only one thing: dance. His parents thought it’d keep him grounded. He’s adopted and honestly, he loves his parents so much he doesn’t even want to know about his original ones.

Favorite animal: chick
Favorite color: silver
Favorite numbers: 5, 7, 94

---

After grabbing my ice cream, I plopped down on a random park bench. Moments like these? Pure gold. 

At home, there’s not much space to do anything. We’re broke—one room, a bathroom. But hey, the driveway’s big enough to dance sometimes. 

My parents are the nicest people ever. They’d give me everything if they could... but they can’t. So when I’m sent out for shopping, I grab a little solo time. 

There’s this guy at school—super rich, super loud. Saw him at the store earlier. Cute, but spoiled as hell. I never liked him. 

My playlist ended just as I caught some music and cheers nearby. Curious, I headed toward the noise. 

A crowd formed a circle around two dudes battling in dance. They weren’t even that good, honestly. 

Round ended. The “better” dancer won. 

Dude: “Round 3 and I’m still the best. Anyone wanna challenge? Bring your luck.” 
But no one stepped up. Ugh. 

Jisung: “You know people like you bluff until someone better shows up, then they play victim. So, what’s it gonna be?” 
Dude: “Pfft, you’re dressed cheaper than my hairbrush. Come on, hero.” 

I smirked and stepped into the circle. 

The music hit, my body relaxed, and all those eyes made me want to own the moment. I swayed to the beat while he kept recycling the same old moves. 

He froze. I stepped into the center. 

Cheering stopped. 

Then my body gave out. My vision blurred. I couldn’t hear a thing. Great. My damn disease chose *this* moment to act up. 

I blinked open my eyes. Still there. Crowd? Gone. 

I tried to stand, felt something fall from my chest. 

To my right: a small box. 

Curious, I opened it. Inside: a ring and a letter. 

> When you feel the presence of the owner, throw it on the ground. Only he will notice and try to return it... That’s when you’ll know he’s the one. He contains great strength, so make sure he keeps it. 

The note said: 
*You were very brave, kid. Make sure to wear this ring from now on. And don’t freak out.* 

What the hell? Why would I freak out? 

I looked at the ring. Nice. Expensive-looking. 

I slipped it on. Suddenly, I *rose* from the ground. 

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!? WHY AM I NOT ON THE GROUND?!??!?! 

I landed and just stood there, stunned. 

So that’s what he meant by *don’t freak out*, huh? 

Better get home... Mom’s probably worried. 
Guess I’ll need to cook up a little excuse. Sorry, momma.