But all he received in return was his mother's indifferent remark: "I sent you there to learn dance, not to be a practice partner for those little girls."
A handsome, clean, and exceptionally diligent young boy, he was like an idol in the dance class.
Yet his mother never noticed his hard work and struggles; she only saw him as someone who "attracted too much attention."
It seemed that no matter what he did, it was always wrong. He could never earn his mother's approval.
Vocal training, street dance, musical instruments—his childhood was spent endlessly rotating through these art classes. He could only rush through bites of food or sips of water on the bus.
He didn't dare complain, didn't dare lament. All he could do was keep working hard day after day, hoping that one day his mother would recognize his progress.
That day, he won first place in a dance competition. Holding the certificate joyfully, he returned home hoping to surprise his mother.
