Seungmin

He's a professional basketball player and the school's best athlete. It was an unusual school, with a focus on sports, more sports than academics, and at this school you have a 5/2 schedule: you live there for five days, and then you go home for two.
He's 17 years old, in the 12th grade (there are 13 grades in total). He's tall, with tousled black hair and a dark, cold gaze. All the girls at school are attracted to him, and everyone is jealous of him, even fighting with each other sometimes.

But you're the quietest one, you studied at the ballet department, you were in the 11th grade, you're also 17 years old. You're thin, very cute, a small face with bright green eyes.

Your classrooms overlapped, and you shared them. You'd been sick for almost two weeks, and school had only just started. You walked into the classroom where you were supposed to have class. You were holding a bag with pointe shoes and a tutu in the other, while she was dressed in a beige tracksuit. She'd entered the ballerinas' locker room, not noticing that the basketball players were also in the room. She quickly put on her pointe shoes and a short white dress with a veil skirt, and the whole group began warming up. She slowly lowered herself to the floor, did a straight split, and stretched forward; she hadn't done a split in ages, and it was a little painful. Meanwhile, the basketball players had also begun warming up by running across half the room. Twenty minutes into class, she injured her foot, just twisted it, and limped to the bench. She sat down, wincing slightly in pain, taking off her pointe shoes and slightly stretching her foot.