SBAB Chapter 5

Today, Lin Xin is completely different compared to three days ago. He had embraced this new version of himself, both inside and out.

Over the past three days, Lin Xin spent all his time with his “little brother,” becoming an inseparable companion. By the way, he was still using the girls’ restrooms.

First, he needed to pick an outfit with this “dog collar.” It was a bit odd, considering Lin Xin usually didn’t pay much attention to fashion, but now he was starting to care about his outfit. The choker was fabric, so the clothes naturally leaned towards a casual style: a short white t-shirt paired with high-waisted dark blue pants, accentuating his legs. A similar leg band was tied on the thigh, and he wore knee-high JK socks — perfect for this season that leaned towards long pants. The outfit, while simple, had a unique flair on Lin Xin.

That night changed Lin Xin’s appearance subtly, adding a more handsome and slightly regal look to his features. He reached the point where passersby might think he was a “cool” girl.

After eating a bowl of noodles, a meat bun, and a bowl of congee, Lin Xin finally felt full and headed toward the dance studio. Upon reaching the second floor, he saw the crowded dance studio filled with slender, narrow-waisted girls. Lin Xin felt out of place among them. Hesitating to enter, he hid outside and dialed the student council president’s phone.

“President, I suddenly have something else to do and can’t make it,” Lin Xin said quietly, crouching by the door, trying to be as small as possible. The dance studio was only a wall away from him, and he was worried about being discovered.

“What did you say?!” the president’s voice boomed through the phone.

Lin Xin’s quiet voice was lost on the president, who amplified his volume as humans tend to do when they can’t hear something. The amplified voice startled Lin Xin, causing him to fall back with a “thud!”

This loud noise exposed Lin Xin’s location. Not only did the president hear, but other dancers gathered around to watch the spectacle.

“Haha… hi everyone,” Lin Xin’s situation resembled a meme where a person is surrounded by others. He tried to soothe his bruised ego with one hand while waving with the other.

The dancers pulled Lin Xin into the studio before he could speak. The president, who didn’t hear Lin Xin’s plea, read his reluctance and didn’t give him a chance to refuse. He gestured for the dancers to perform for Lin Xin.

The sound system crackled, and Tchaikovsky’s iconic piece, “Swan Lake,” filled the room. Even though the dancers wore short sleeves and black leotards, their grace was undeniable. Lin Xin was entranced, imagining the elegant swans dancing.

The president seemed pleased with Lin Xin’s reaction, indicating he wasn’t a complete lost cause. Watching the dancers, Lin Xin noticed something amiss — all the girls danced as pure white swans. What about the black swan and the prince from the story?

After the dance ended, Lin Xin realized the beauty of ballet but also knew he had no foundation to join in. Just as he was about to refuse, he heard the president’s monotonous voice, devoid of any enthusiasm, say, “We’re short on dancers. If you say no, they won’t get to perform.”

The president didn’t look at Lin Xin, but all the dancers surrounded him, their eyes pleading. They wanted this chance to perform, just once.

Lin Xin felt pity but acknowledged the gap between them. “Is there no one else available?” he asked.

One of the girls replied, “We’ve asked everyone we know. All the ballet majors already have other commitments. Among the non-professionals, you’re the only one who hasn’t refused and is willing to come.”

The president looked back at Lin Xin, who was still hesitating, and said, “It’s not a big performance, just a requirement for the leadership meeting. The audience won’t understand ballet; you just need to know which position to stand in. Even if you mess up, the stage is far enough that no one will notice.”

Hearing this, Lin Xin’s resolve softened, and he agreed to help them out.

The president then handed out two different-colored practice outfits: a pure white one and a pure black one. “Pick one,” he said.

“White, everyone else is wearing white; it’s easier to blend in,” Lin Xin replied.

“Alright, I’ll get you the prince costume to try on,” the president said.

“Wait,” Lin Xin grabbed the president’s arm as he was about to leave. “I’ll take the black one; black is slimming. My thighs are a bit thick,” he laughed awkwardly.

“Okay, you’re the black swan then. You have a more prominent role,” the president said.

For Lin Xin, being the black swan was his only option. He had seen performances of “Swan Lake” on TV. The prince only wore leotards, so his lack of a skirt would stand out among the girls.

Now, Lin Xin’s task was to practice diligently and try not to embarrass the others — after all, he had promised the president.

The practice was tough. Lin Xin, without any ballet background, struggled with each movement, making him appear clumsy compared to the others.

But the dancers were grateful for his support, and no one ridiculed a dedicated effort.

Still, a few laughs escaped — genuine, harmless laughter.

When Lin Xin found out how hard Lin Xin was practicing, he brought sweet milk tea to cheer him up, since Lin Xin had thrown him into this predicament. As soon as he entered the dance studio, he was amused by Lin Xin’s awkward, ungraceful movements. Lin Xin, still a bit clumsy, resembled an ungainly duckling struggling to become a swan.