The first thing Jimin heard was silence. A cold eerie wind left the audience in shivers as they watched the man stand calmly in the middle of the stage, his head facing down.

His fingers came together to click.

One, two, three, four.

A classical tune filled the auditorium as the beginning chords were struck. On cue, the man gazed up to finally observe eager eyes stare at him with anticipation.

The volume roamed circular along the theater and so did his rotate like a snap of the wrist, following where the music took him.

Jimin's head lolled to the side as he focused on the empty space beside him, the space that was supposed to be empty.

But oddly, Jimin could see himself on the other side. A dark  reflection staring back at the dancer.  Critiqued glare, mouth curved into a sneer, his body clad in the same pearly white cloth.

But his eyes were venomous, peering at Jimin as if he was his worst enemy. Face so pure, but eyes so dark. Jimin could have sworn that his eyeballs had turned to shells of black. So inhumane. The dancer couldn't believe that someone who appeared to be living, could look so dead.

As the instrumental began to build up, the man turned and swayed his legs across the stage. The dry wood against his feet grew hotter with friction. His limbs moved with ease, like water. An aura of grace, one of enchanting presence spread around him as he managed to earn a head turn from every single critic in the audience.

Their eyes watched his every move, tracing lines of his figure onto bygone spaces.

Jimin's body aimed for a twist, picking his feet up in the process. The man effortlessly spun like a top and slammed his feet down, arching his back like a bow. And all the while he performed, the vision of himself loomed around the stage, just like the shadows looming around his head.

The fateful eyes criticizing the dancer's every move, demanding perfection. Jimin wondered whether this vision he saw was the other voice he could hear at times.

A piano chord struck as the reminiscent echoes of the blessed violin managed to cut their way into people's skin and leave their stomachs in shambles. The stage purely encasing nostalgia and love.

Jimin danced for his life. His motion exhibiting fluidity and precision, leaving marks embedded permanently onto people's hearts. The tension began to build. The man positioned himself to the side, running and taking a leap, spreading his legs apart to strike a magnificent pose.

All those hours, weeks of practice worked wonders as he continued to leap. But from the corner of his eyes, he could feel a taunting gaze on him. And just as he ran to take another jump, he heard voices again.

You will fail everyone with this dance.

Like a sudden jerk of a car being pushed on its breaks and the loud screeching in his head overpowering the whimsical tune of music, Jimin panicked. The distraction occurring right when he took to to air, and that made him lose his balance.

Instead of landing on his feet, his leap was cut to half as he dropped on the floor with a thud. The man's heart began to race as his head didn't dare look up to see the excited faces, too scared that they might have caught his little mishap.

But all those years of training had come to use when the screeching began to subside and his ears could differentiate between melody and noise. The music was still running. The show must go on.

With a punctured esteem and cautious intention, the man straightened one leg and swept the floor, giving off the impression that his careless fall was a part of his routine. And with a sudden turn, his counterpart stood by him, dancing with him.

The vision copied his every move, pretending to be his partner. The performance was a solo, but for Jimin, it was a duet. The haunting other struck every pose with utmost perfection, the perfection that Jimin couldn't find in his own movement.

It was almost as if the other was mocking him, telling him that his so called perfection was all a sham.

You could never do well in the first place.

Don't listen to him.

Tears began to corner the man's eyes as two figures danced effortlessly on the stage. His heart clenched as the dreadful voices filled his mind again.

The tune began to reach its climax, thundering into a dramatic beat. The suffocating base pounded heavily like the hearts of those who watched. Their eyes tried to decipher the man's every move. His dance spoke volumes, his face constricted in pain.

He was crying, acting as if a spiral was closing on him, like a person had strangled his neck and he desperately wished to breathe.

They were left in confusion. The dance was supposed to depict love. But for Jimin, love for himself was only singular. It came in one size and shape. Toxic, killing, fake love. The only kind of love he felt for himself.

With the last jutting of his arm, Jimin finally stood up, facing his vision. Such a horrible creature in front of him. A languid person who encouraged people to kill themselves. The monster people always hunted for, the monster children looked for under their beds. Right there in front of him.

Breathing heavily, tantalizing eyes. A vision who had not a lifted a single finger, but was the most dangerous of all. Jimin knew he should have run. Right there, he should have saved his life and turned the other direction. 

But for a second, he looked past the torturing gaze, the black eye, the menacing sneer. Underneath the façade, that vision had his face. The horrible creature was a part of him. All his past, his flaws, his nightmares came together to make up the vision that was in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, this was a part of him. With staggered breaths and a heavy weight on his shoulders, a conflicted mind, Jimin walked forward and so did his vision.

The man faced the audience and kneeled while the other stood behind him. And when the last chord struck, the man spread his arms and struck his ending pose. And in that moment, he could feel his vision embodying itself into him, transfusing as a part of his body, proving to himself that he was right.

Those voices, they were him. They were all him and that broke him. Jimin's eyes were closed shut as tears desperately leaked themselves down. The spotlight shined on him as the audience stood to their feet, clapping passionately till their palms hurt.

Smiles, tears, emotion. He had made them feel.

And with the bright light encompassing his features clearly, they could see the water that leaked down his cheeks. The dancer had finally let his mask off. The cold exterior, the deceptive facade dropped as they witnessed his vulnerability.

They witnessed him weeping like a child and that touched them, and maybe that was what made them love him even more. Maybe that was when the applause grew stronger.

All the while, Jimin was in a daze. His heart felt suffocated as it slammed against his ribs, wishing to break free. Tears flowing like a waterfall. The theatre shook with cheers but all he could hear were those voices.

This is you. This is me. This is us. This is me.

This was him.