The gym air crackles with electricity as Dingjie steps onto the stage. He doesn't perform - he dominates, every movement calculated to provoke, to claim. His tank top clings to his chest, already damp with sweat, as he moves with predatory grace.

"Relax," he growls at the others, his voice low and dangerous. "Or get off my stage."

Johnny stiffens, but doesn't challenge him. No one does. Dingjie is in control now, his presence overwhelming the entire gym. When the music starts, he doesn't follow the choreography - he redefines it, his hips rolling with deliberate sensuality that has several girls in the audience gasping.

"Eyes on me," he murmurs to the crowd, though everyone already knows they don't have a choice. His gaze locks onto a specific girl in the front row, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he begins to peel off his shirt.

The routine disintegrates around him. The others become irrelevant, background noise to his personal performance. When he reaches for the rugby ball, it's not part of the act anymore - it's a prop in his game of seduction, pressed deliberately against his crotch before he tosses it to the girl he's been targeting.

She catches it, her hands trembling, and Dingjie winks. "Keep that," he mouths. "I'll come collect it later."

The crowd erupts, but he doesn't notice. His focus remains on her, a promise written clearly in his eyes. This performance isn't ending when the music stops - it's just beginning.