Remi is a cheerful 12-year-old boy with wavy hair, bright eyes, and a constant bounce in his step. A student of Grade 6, he's known for his love of dancing and his fun-loving, confident attitude.

Remi loved to dance.

Whether it was a movie song playing on the TV or a ringtone on someone's phone, his feet just had to move. At school, everyone knew him as the boy who could copy any dance step in seconds. He was so smooth, so confident, and always had a smile while dancing.

"Remi, you're like a dance machine!" his friend Aarav would say.

Even teachers noticed. "Remi, why don't you show us a few steps for the annual day?" asked Ms. Leena once.

So, when the school announced a big inter-school Dance Competition, Remi's eyes lit up.

"Yes! This is it!" he told his mom. "I'm going to join right away!"

"That's great, beta," his mom smiled. "But remember, practice is the key."

"Of course, Ma! I've got this," Remi replied, already imagining himself holding a shiny gold trophy.

The next day, Remi filled in his name on the competition list. His classmates cheered.

"I bet Remi will win," whispered Tanya.

"Obviously! He's the best dancer in school," agreed Kunal.

Full of excitement, Remi picked his favorite song - a peppy number full of jumps, spins, and cool footwork. He scribbled down ideas in his notebook and played the song on repeat in his room, mapping each beat in his mind.

For the first few days, Remi danced for hours. He stood in front of the mirror, rehearsed his expressions, and tried new tricks.

But then? something changed.

The competition was one whole month away. And after just five days of practice, Remi started getting bored.

"Maybe I'll skip today," he told himself one evening and reached for his gaming console.

One day turned into two, two into five. Remi started spending hours on video games and scrolling through videos on his phone.

"Remi, did you practice today?" his mom asked gently.

"Ma, I'll do it tomorrow. I still have time," he said without looking up from the screen.

"But practice helps you get better, even if you already know how to dance," she reminded him.

"I already know the steps, Ma. It'll be fine!" he replied confidently.

Days passed.

His notebook gathered dust on the shelf. The music file he had saved hadn't been played in weeks. His mom tried reminding him every now and then.

"Remi, the competition is next week?"

"Remi, just 3 days left?"

"Remi, tomorrow is the big day?"

"Ma! Stop worrying," Remi said, trying to sound calm even though his stomach did a little flip. "I've done this before. I'll be fine."

Finally, the day of the competition arrived.

Remi wore his best dance outfit. His hair was neatly combed, his shoes polished. But something felt off.

His heart thumped as he stood backstage, waiting for his turn.

"Why do I feel so nervous?" he thought, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I've danced in front of people so many times."

Then his name was called. He took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. The spotlight hit his face. The music started.

For the first few beats, he moved well. But then - his mind went blank.

"What comes next?" he panicked. His legs froze for a second. He skipped a step. Then another. The rhythm was lost.

He tried to improvise, doing some freestyle moves. He smiled, pretending everything was fine. But inside, he knew.

He hadn't practiced. And it showed.

When his dance ended, the audience clapped politely. But the big cheer he always got? It didn't come. Remi's heart sank.

Later, the results were announced.

Remi didn't win. He wasn't even in the top three.

His classmates were surprised. "What happened to Remi?"

"He was supposed to win!"

"Did he forget the steps?"

Remi sat quietly, staring at the stage.

That evening, at home, he sat at the dining table, unusually quiet.

His mom placed a glass of water in front of him and sat down. "You okay?"

He nodded slowly. "I messed up."

She didn't say anything. She just waited.

"I thought I'd be fine. I thought I could do it because I already knew how to dance. But... I didn't practice. Not enough. I forgot my steps."

His mom placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remi, being talented is wonderful. But talent needs training. Even the best dancers in the world practice every day."

"I get it now," Remi said. "I thought practice was boring. But now I see, without it, I'm not as good as I thought."

She smiled. "That's the real win today - you've learned something important. Practice doesn't just make perfect, Remi. It gives you confidence. And confidence helps you shine."

Remi looked up. "Next time, I'll start early. I'll make a schedule. No skipping. No excuses."

"That's the spirit," his mom said, hugging him.

From that day on, whether it was a competition or just dancing in his room, Remi practiced every day. He still danced with joy - but now, he also danced with purpose.

Because he knew the real magic wasn't in the music or the moves.

It was in the practice.