#do fanfiction

CHAPTER 1

A/N: This is my first attempt at Kyungsoo fluff or any story for that matter. Send me your opinions on it if you read it.

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Kyungsoo x Reader

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You looked out of the balcony. It was 5:30 in the morning and the sun was about to rise in three minutes. You always loved sunrises and sunsets. They somehow gave you a feeling of hope ,of better days and better memories in your bad times. Being a ballerina,you were pretty poetic by nature in such things. Also due to your hectic schedule, you never got your “me”- time literally. Your life was just about waking up,getting dressed, going for 12 hour practices, coming back home, ordering takeout (freaking salads on top of that. No oily food at all) and going to bed. You practically didn’t have a life apart from ballet. That’s why you loved sunrises and sunsets. It was that time of the day when you could sit quietly in peace with the world around you with no interruption or turbulence in your environment. At that moment you were in sync with the world. A perfect harmony,a perfect melody that plays in your heart and remains your own secret song.

In fact you wanted to die while looking at a sunset followed by a sunrise. As the first ray of sunlight hit the world , you wanted to sing that lullaby your mother sang to you when you were a kid and then as the sun came out, pink and orangish like a shy maiden getting from her bed on the day of her marriage, you wanted to smile and close your eyes forever. It would be the perfect end to your life.

Lately death had been a lot on your mind. It had started when your production company decided to do an adaptation of Macbeth. The gore,blood and death had been a bit nauseating at first. Fifteen out of the forty five dancers had backed out after first two days of practice. Being an artist yourself, you understood that some people were more emotionally fragile than others and would thus naturally feel the emotions for an act more deeply than others. You, on the contrary, had survived because the subject of death and gore had fascinated you more than it scared you. You weren’t mentally ill but you definitely hadn’t ever talked or explored this kind of stuff. At home,your life had been one big pink fluff. Your mother had left your dad but had managed to get half his wealth in alimony. This money had managed to pass you through school and had let you pursue ballet at Harvard. Your mother was a former ballerina, a bitter one at that, who  had left at the peak of her career in order to get married to a rich business tycoon. The marriage had been a blissful one but your mother had been bitter from the start. Ballerinas who had been her minions before, rose to fame and it didn’t help the fact that every show that year in which your mother was supposed to perform, was sold out with her competitors outperforming and outshining her. Your mother could never handle the grief at the loss of all that fame. She was remembered as the next-big thing in ballet but with time she was completely forgotten. Bitterness turned to grudges and grudges turned to fights. The press had a field day when your mother threw cake at the successful competitor in a party hosted by your father. The video clip was replayed the whole week and your father had to publicly print an apology letter which was put up on the front page of a national daily. 

After this, life spiraled downwards and your childhood was hazy blur of courtrooms, divorce papers and custody battles. Your mother always kept a tight clutch on your weekly meetings with your father and after fourth grade she sent you away to boarding school. You never met your father after that. Only once did you see him and that was on your graduation day. Your mother never came. She was always too busy with her string of rich men whom she dated in rotation. You had no feelings for your mother except for disgust and you stayed away from her as much as possible. Your father, on the contrary, had personally come to your graduation ceremony that day and you had been so happy, you had literally danced your way to the stage to get your diploma. He had smiled a strained smile and had hugged you afterwards. You were happy. From then on you had been in constant touch with your father through e-mails on a separate tablet that he had given you in-case your mother decided to trace your phone. 

Life, from then on, had reached some semblance of normalcy and even though it was a crooked normalcy, you were ok with it. That’s why things like blood and gore fascinated you. You weren’t affected by your immediate environment as much others were. Having lived a life where your parents had been the front page of every tabloid for three years straight, you were pretty much unaffected by things like these. Sometimes this did not help. In most of your previous relationships, your boyfriends had dumped you because you were too detached according to them. Even when they dumped you, it didn’t hurt so much. It would take exactly three days to get back to normal and by the end of the week you would have forgotten completely about them. This, though, did not stop you from feeling lonely. You had urges from time to time. Sexual  urges in fact. You wanted to be wrecked by someone whose touch would put your whole body on fire. You wanted their fingers to lace through your body from your chest to you abdomen and you wanted to literally see the explosion of stars that so many novels talked about. 

None of relationships had ever gone past the two months of courtship which had in turn never led to you having sex with anyone of your boyfriends. Maybe all the pent-up frustration originated from that, you thought. You went with your life and dance. Macbeth was hard and your production head had been going crazy lately. If the rumors were true then it seemed that the mystery financier who had insisted on this project wanted to see a complete rehearsal before the actual show. He had set the date exactly a week from today and had informed about it the last minute. Apparently he was some big man in the business circles so his demands and whims had to be met without questions. He had given the ultimatum to pull out if the rehearsal wasn’t satisfactory. The hours of practice became rigorous. Tears, blood, sweat, anxiety, trauma, depression- these had become the common emotions in your practice room. It was as though a sudden cloud had hidden the warm sun. You were barely managing through it all, your life was a blur of practice, breakfast and sleep. You hadn’t eaten a proper dinner for around two weeks because you were too exhausted to even order takeout these days. And playing the female lead, Lady Macbeth did not help.

Finally the day of the rehearsal came. You had woken up earlier that day at around three in the morning. The tension, the knots in your stomach were too tight and you had literally forced yourself to eat the porridge that morning. Knowing very well that rehearsals could take all day, you had packed yourself an egg roll and a flask of orange juice just in case it got too late. When you reached there, your fellow dancers were already there. They were as nervous as you were. Today the mystery financier was finally coming to see this rehearsal.The anticipation was palpable, you could almost touch it if not breathe it. 

The rehearsal started. The lights on the stage did  not allow you to see anyone who sat as an audience to watch the rehearsal which meant that the mystery financier was still elusive. Somehow this sent your stomach into further knots. You were uneasy suddenly.

When the curtain fell after the first act, you peered from behind the curtain and searched for the financier. Sitting in the auditorium was a man, just a little older than you with brown hair and plump lips. His skin was pearly white just like the snow and he reminded you of the sun which rises between two snow capped mountains. From this distance you couldn’t make out the color of his eyes. They looked jet black, the color of charcoal. You stared absent-mindedly at him,musing over the fact that this man could cause so much hysteria and anxiety in a group of over forty people. Just then he turned around and your eyes locked. Suddenly he was staring right back at you. At first you didn’t realize this but a few seconds later something clunked and you jolted back to reality. Your eyes went wide and you jumped behind the curtain pulling it close, your face reddening with embarrassment. You felt a jolt of electricity surge through your body. 

You stood for two minutes, your heart pounding. The second act was coming  up and you were sure that his attention would be directed towards you. Normally such things or feelings would have made you wobbly. Today however, you had flutters. Something at the pit of your stomach stirred. How could a glimpse of a man cause such feelings in you. This was insane.

You shook your head and suppressed those flutters and went on to get ready for Act-II.What you didn’t know was that this was the beginning of the many acts with Mr.Mystery Financier

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[NOTE:This is the first story I am writing and I know I am pretty vague but I want to first see how people respond to this. So don’t hesitate to send me your feedback. Also I think I will make it a three part story.Send me your requests if you have any special requests for EXO Fanfics :)