Competition - to strive to gain or win something by defeating or establishing superiority over others who are trying to do the same

A soft pitched note echoed throughout the equally soft room, and was received by two people. After a slight pause, several more notes followed. The person singing closed his eyes, feeling the music throughout his body. It was almost magical in that sense, the way it flowed easily. And it had to flow easily - there was no space for mistakes.

"Kim Hansol." A voice strictly interrupted the singing boy, causing the said boy to stop.

Lowering his hands from the table in front of him that he had habitually gripped during his performance, Hansol opened his eyes to see his teacher blinking quite rapidly, while fluctuating his gaze from the person in front of him to the papers on his desk. It was such an odd action - that is, one that was such a small detail to see, that it caused a slight feeling of nervousness within him. But he had learned not to let the uneasy catharsis break his concentration, so he waited patiently for the man in front of him to say something.

"Repeat the first line again. Start from 'your fantasies have all been broken'." The man's accent was odd; something was different from the usual Korean , the way that he pronounced the 's' in the word fantasies (hwansang) incorrectly with a plain 's' sound was the error - someone who has been speaking Korean for a fair while would know that it would be pronounced as 'sh'. Concluding that the man was British, and new to the country, Hansol nodded to himself, pleased at this small realization. He found great pleasure in figuring such an indistinct thing out.

It was not unusual for a person of different origin to be present at this certain location - Stardom Academy was known for being one of the top areas of musical education in the country. But the person named Kim Hansol did not think of himself as lucky - quite the opposite - he considered Stardom Academy to be lucky for having him study there.

However, today was somewhat different. He had been woken up not at all gently to the sight of Shin Jiho yelling at him to wake up and get to room B213 as soon as possible, for he had a new vocal teacher that wanted to see him whenever the time was best convenient for him. And that time would be at six in the morning, on a Tuesday.

But it was no bother really - he was used to the constant changes in his over elaborate schedule. For he learned to expect anything and everything.

So not even ten seconds of silence passed by from the moment his teacher spoke when Hansol began singing again.

A hesitant knock at the door prompted him to stop his singing for the second time that hour, and to stare at the door itself, waiting for the source to either enter or leave. He hoped that whoever it was would do the latter.

For he was selfish, and above all, knew it. As an off, but comparative topic, he would let the world explode as long as he was able to live. A fair trade, he deemed.

"Come in," his teacher coughed, waving in the direction of the door despite the person behind it not being able to see the haphazard action.

Hansol returned his gaze to his teacher. He couldn't even remember his name, most unlike him. Frowning, he searched his mind for the two words, before remembering that he was never informed of it.

"But it is not yet time to end my session," he began.

The man in front of him coughed again. "Yes, it is. Look at the clock."

And Hansol did, realizing just as soon as his teacher bent his head back down to view his papers, that it was, in fact, seven in the morning on a Tuesday.

"How….how was I?" He asked, a bit hesitant to know the answer. That was unlike him - he was always confident no matter what, or so he thought. He wrote it off as the new person giving off a new aura, one that troubled him, in that way ruling out the idea of nervousness.

But all the teacher in front of him said was a simple 'I'll let you know later'.

So, bowing slightly, Hansol made his way quickly to the door, with the purpose of letting someone in and himself out.

Opening the door, though, yielded a new surprise.

For it was Kim Byungjoo who was on the other side out the entranceway.

Soft, large eyes met cold, sharp eyes, Hansol being the latter, and everything happened at once.

On the outside, it was a simple matter of stepping aside with a small nod and holding open the door, but the inside was definitely different and much more chaotic.

And so, as both boys passed each other, nothing was said. Nothing at all.

But there was one word that kept echoing clearly in the person named Kim Hansol's mind.

Competition.