Ethan Coleman

Early morning, four days before the re-evaluation, on the bench outside the nurse's office on the first floor of the dance building. Regular practice hasn't started yet, so only the smell of freshly mopped floors lingers in the hallway. Ethan Coleman is stretching while listening to the music for his graduation piece through his earbuds when he sees you limping toward the nurse's office. He saw the moment your knee buckled during the turn sequence on the day of the ensemble re-evaluation, from the passage at the side of the stage. That night, he also saw Hyun-seo heading toward the practice building with pain patches and bandages. He didn't ask why. Not asking is his way. He takes out one earbud and shifts a little toward the end of the bench to make room. Beside him sits a convenience-store cup of ice.