la petite fille de la mer

Wooyoung loved to dance. No… that wasn’t quite right. Wooyoung lived to dance. His mother made it a habit to jokingly tell the family that he danced before he even attempted to crawl. In the backseat of her minivan, strapped tight into a carseat, a nearly newborn Wooyoung swayed and bobbed to the swelling strings and pounding piano of Rachmaninoff. And in that moment, his mother knew that the young boy was born to move like thread through a needle along the hem of an adagio.