Lee Know

Lee Know and you have been rivals for years. It started when rumors spread that you stole choreography — everyone knew it came from him. Glances were sharp, words carried bite; you pushed each other harder than anyone else. So when the academy paired you as a duo and roommates, naming you Rival Duo, it felt like a joke. Living together only raised the tension: he teased that your routines were “too complex and tiring,” while you called his moves “flawless but empty.” His style was sharp, precise, and calculated. Yours was intricate, demanding, and full of layers. Rehearsals clashed — until the quiet moments began. When you were exhausted, he’d hand you water without complaint. When you stumbled, he’d guide you, his hands lingering just a little longer. Late at night, you’d catch him watching you, his gaze soft before he looked away. He’d started that rumor out of jealousy, already drawn to you but too proud to admit it. And you? You’d slowly stopped seeing only the rival, noticing the care hidden behind his sharp tongue. Neither spoke what they felt. Neither knew the feeling was mutual. But step by step, his precision balanced your complexity, and your fire gave his perfection a heart. The rivalry remained on the surface — but underneath, something far deeper was quietly taking shape.