Idiot
You Ruined ItDance. A type of art that generally involves movement of the body, often rhythmic and to music. At least, that’s what Wikipedia states. For you, it’s a lot more than just movements. It’s flowing to a certain beat. It’s expressing yourself through music, telling a story to the unknowing. What is dancing without feeling. You don’t know, because it doesn’t exist for you. To dance without feeling is like to eat cereal without milk. It’s just plain wrong. Since day one of your life, you have been dancing. May it be some flinging of the arms on the beat of Sesame Street, or shaking your booty while walking in your crib, while your mother cooks dinner. You are almost a hundred percent sure you came out of the womb dancing. Your mother has to yet confirm this.
Dance. It’s a passion you have had your whole life. It’s your drive to move on in life. When events occur, and you don’t know what to do, you have no other choice but to dance the frustrations away. Or in some cases, moonwalk out of the vicinity your angry mother is in because you have, yet again, forgotten to take out the garbage. Your mother can’t really appreciate these dancing exits of yours.
It’s just how you roll in life.
You often get questions like “why do you dance. I mean, it’s so tiring and you get all sweaty and stuff”. In these kinds of situations, you know how to answer. Questions like these are asked by the unknowing people, who you despise to the bone. You can give them an answer, though. It’s a window to expressionism. It releases built up stress in the body. It’s a good work-out for when you pigged out again. There are no words to explain your obsession with this art.
You just know you love it.
But, being the stubborn person you are, you don’t tell them that. You tell them the short version.
“I like to sweat.”
Normally, after these people hear this, they look at you a little disgusted and just let it slide. Just the way you like it. You don’t feel obliged to tell every single person WHY you dance. Hell, if they want to know, they should just come to the park and watch you.
The park. Your zone. Your element. The canvas you paint with your movements. A five-minute walk from your house. So much win. It’s an area that is filled with trees and grass EVERYWHERE. There’s a huge grass patch in the middle of the whole park with a big- road running straight through it. People can walk here without disturbing the nature that surrounds them. All kinds of people visit this place, but in a way, they’re the same. Cyclists, runners, children, dogs, families. All these people come here to enjoy the nature that is called ‘The Park’. The usual. You, on the other hand, are different. Or so you think. You feel like an individual in a mass. You make use of the park in a total different way than the mainstream. You sound so hipster.
But you’re not.
You don’t like coffee. Therefore, you are not a hipster. You don’t sit around in coffee shops with your Macbook and post pictures on your Instagram, with filter of course, of your bagel. You actually live a little. Hey, it’s a lifestyle and if they like to drink a lot of coffee and be solemn, who are you to stop them. You are, as a matter of fact, a dance addict. You are in no position to complain about other people and how they live their life.
This was your world. And you accepted that.
But no life story flows that great and has no flaws whatsoever. You are an eighteen year old student who barely holds out in school. You’re in your last year and your grades aren’t that great but you don’t feel the urge to excel in class, so you don’t. As long as you get your diploma and can leave this hell hole they call a school, you’re fine with anything. You have friends, but this is high school. Here they are your so-called friends, but after you graduate they turn into mere acquaintances. So you kept yourself on the down-low and had as few friends as possible.
You didn’t care, anyways. If you could dance all day and just be left alone, you’d be fine with it. You don’t need people who judge your passion and watch from the sidelines. You want to share your love for this art, but if there aren’t any people around you who understand you, the chances are pretty thin of getting any recognition. So you just escape to the park and showcase your love there.
To the unknowing people.
Today wasn’t like any other day. You woke up with an uneasy feeling and it didn’t leave you for the rest of the morning. It’s like your gut was telling you something was going to happen but the mystery still stands. You were cautious on your way to school. Watched traffic extra well that morning. Entering the school went without any major issues. You arrived at your classroom and stood in front of the door. There it was again. That icky feeling. You ruffled your hair and sighed.
“Aish, what is this feeling,” you softly said to yourself.
You straightened out your uniform and grabbed the door handle. You took a deep breath and walked into the classroom. The room was buzzing with students and didn’t take notice of you entering. Some students were sitting on the tables, others were talking amongst themselves. You slowly walk in front of the tables to your seat, which is in the back right next to the window. Then you saw it.
“Goddamnit,” you growl softly and grit your teeth.
You make way to your seat and see a guy hunched over, bobbing his head. You place your hands on your hips and your head to the side. Your eyebrows pinch together and bite your lower lip, a habit you picked up somewhere. You look down at the person in front of you and take him in. His brown hair was a mess, but still fluffy looking. You wanted to reach out and touch it but that’d be a bit weird. You couldn’t see his face because his hair was in front of it, because of his hunched position. His uniform looked pretty neat, but the sleeves were rolled up a bit so you could see a slightly tanned skin. The guy still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up a bit and coughed. Seeing that the guy still didn’t react, you threw your head back in irritation and slammed your hand on the table. This caught the attention of some students close to you.
You saw the guy flinch but it was barely noticeable. He looked up at you and the first thing you saw were his beautiful brown orbs. Your breath hitched in your throat but you kept strong. The guy took out his headphones. Probably the reason why his head was bobbing. You cleared your throat and lifted your eyebrows.
“You’re in my seat”.
The boy looked around, down at the table, the chair. Your brows creased some more because of the stupid behavior of the guy. He looked up again with his beautiful eyes and lifted his eyebrow.
“I don’t see your name on it.”
You started to get irritated by this guy and you have known him for like, what, five minutes? You crossed your arms in front of your chest and stared at the guy. You showed him a small smile and leaned in a bit. His eyebrows pinched together and backed up.
“It’ll be written in your blood if you don’t get the up.”
You said sweetly to him. It was like music started to play in your ears, because he let out the most beautiful laugh you have ever heard. You stood up straight again with a confused expression on your face. You looked at his smiling face. You noticed that his eyes turned into small crescents when he smiled. His mouth opened up, letting his voice spread into the room and show straight rows of pretty pearly whites.
The guy was still laughing at you and this made you feel a bit uncomfortable. You felt stares on you so you looked around and found some students look at you two. You looked one girl in the eye and lifted your chin a bit. “What!” you hissed at her. She quickly turned around and continued her super interesting conversation with the people next to her. Meanwhile, the guy in front of you, who was STILL sitting in your seat, started to calm down a bit. He brought his fingers to his eyes to wipe away the tears that appeared somewhere in the middle of his laugh fest. He puffed up his cheeks and softly hit them. You looked at him a weirdly.
“Are you done?” you asked, still irritated by this situation.
The guy stood up from your seat and walked up to you. You were a little shocked because he towered over you like a ing mountain. You were a mere 169 cm tall, and he must’ve been at least 180 cm tall so you had to look up at him. Arms still crossed in front of your chest, you looked up and lifted your eyebrows.
The guy started to lean in and lifted his hand. He pointed his finger at you and said barely audible “You’re interesting. I like you.” And walked away. You were a bit stupefied because what the hell did just happen! You swiftly turned around to see the guy talking to your teacher. You had to admit, this was an interesting turn of events. It was something different in your daily routine. BUT. That didn’t mean it should turn into a habit because you still felt irritated by the guy by just looking at him. He turned to you and smirked a bit. You lifted your chin at him with an irritated expression. After seeing that, he just laughed it off, waved you goodbye and left the classroom.
“Psh, idiot,” you muttered under your breath and took a seat in your chair. You put your bag down next to you and smelled something different in the air. You cocked your head a bit and took a whiff. That damn guy! He totally marked your spot with his heavenly smell! You huffed a bit and leaned you arms on your table. You propped up your hand, leaned your face into it and sighed.
“I definitely do NOT like your smell.”
A/N: Okay so here's the first part, gaahh hope you like it! Please leave comments if you feel like it, tell me what you think ^^
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