~Chapter NINTEEN~

She could feel her body giving out. She could feel it screaming at her to stop what she was doing to it. She could feel its resistance.

But she didn’t care. Or rather, she just couldn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to think of anything else. Her crew had won the dance contest, against all odds—not excluding the language barrier. But even then, with her dancers screaming and jumping around her in happiness, Andrea had felt numb. It hadn’t even sunk in that they had won, and Andrea was pretty sure it never would, only because she had other things on her mind; then and now.

She felt guilty that she wasn’t out celebrating with the dancers right now, since the celebrations seemed to continue, despite the fact that they had won almost three days ago. But Andrea had come to the conclusion that no Andrea was better for her crew than a sulky Andrea, so she had distanced herself from them.

They hadn’t asked why, but they hadn’t gotten angry with her either. Maybe they knew her well enough to know that something had happened and she didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe they were too busy to notice her absence. Maybe they didn’t care.

In any sense, Andrea didn’t blame them. Everyone had their battles, and hers just happened to crop up at the same time she was supposed to be happy.

The only way Andrea could distance herself from her crew, however, was by taking as many trips to the dance studio as possible. Because they were in a foreign country, didn’t speak the language, had no friends or family in Korea, everyone in the crew could pretty much only stick to going from the apartments to the studio by themselves. Everything else had to be done in a group. It wasn’t an ideal situation for someone who wanted to be alone.

But Andrea knew that dance was fueled by emotions, and she desperately needed a way to get her emotions and thoughts out, and dance was the only thing she knew how to do well.

“Andrea, you’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?” Ryan suddenly spoke up making Andrea halt her movements. She had come alone, but it was just like Ryan to show up when she needed him, whether she knew that she wanted him there. Ryan walked further into the studio, only to sit up against the mirrored wall, facing Andrea, the look on his face telling Andrea that even if she had denied feeling pain, Ryan would be able to see right through her lie.

Breathing hard, Andrea  walked over to the stereo system in the corner, turned the pounding music off,  put her hands on her hips and simply looked at her friend, deciding that it would be better to not deny or confirm Ryan’s thoughts.

Ryan sighed when he didn’t get an answer. He leaned back further against the wall and sighed, looking Andrea over.

“How long are you going to do this for?” he asked simply.

“Do what?”

“You know what,” Ryan sighed. He knew that Andrea wanted to rile him up to make him leave, but he wasn’t going to go for it. “You’re doing it again.”

“Wha—“

“Don’t you dare ask ‘what,’ Andrea Moreau,” Ryan spat, cutting her off, instantly getting Andrea’s attention. It was rare enough for Ryan to call her “Andrea,” but it was even stranger to hear him use her last name.

Ryan sighed again, knowing that he had gotten her full attention. He patted the spot to his left, signaling for her to sit, which she did after a moment’s hesitation. She wasn’t sure what this conversation would come to with Ryan being annoyed, and she wasn’t all that eager to find out.

“Let it go, Dre,” Ryan told her.

“Let what go?”

Ryan ran his hand through his hair quickly. “I don’t know,” he said. “All of it. Whatever is making you like this.”

Andrea looked down at her hands in her lap. She had known that if anyone would confront her about her attitude it would be Ryan. Not just because he and her were the closest, but because he was almost in tune with her and her moods. He knew how to approach her, how to talk to her, and how to offer her solutions to her problems, even if she didn’t know she had one.

“Just let it all go,” Ryan suggested again.

“How do I?” Andrea asked.

“Well, for one, you can forget about it all. And before you ask how,” Ryan continued, catching the words before Andrea even said anything. “I’ll tell you one thing I learned from comedy: you can’t judge anything based on your initial thoughts. It’s true that first impressions make a difference, but I can’t tell you how many times I thought a show would be brilliant because of my first impressions of the crowd only to find that the audience was difficult. Or shows that seemed difficult but were actually quite easy. I had to learn to let go of my initial impressions. And that’s what you need to do.”

“How did you do it?” Andrea asked, genuinely curious.

“Experience, mostly,” Ryan told her. “But you should have enough experience now to be able to let go of your problems.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were dropped by nearly all of your friends after your accident, you were kicked out by your step-mother, you thought that your first crew were going to make it big, you were skeptical to even try dancing again after the first batch of dancers left, you hated Jay….just to name a few of your issues,” Ryan said, counting them off on his fingers. “Honestly, I think you could let all of it go. Just be happy where you are right now. Forget the past. Except your step-mom kicking you out. I don’t like her and it would be very awkward for me to continue hating her if you forgave her.”

Andrea chuckled. “Always looking out for yourself first, huh?”

“Someone has to, honey,” Ryan answered with a shrug. “So you have my permission to continue hating your step-mother.”

“Glad I have your permission.”

“Well, I knew it was what you were waiting for,” Ryan simpered, pushing Andrea’s shoulder as though he was doing her a favor. “Now, teach me how to dance.”

“Ry, I have to get over my personal issues. You have to get over the fact that you have two left feet.”

Ryan laughed and stood up, offering his hand to pull Andrea up. “No, I’m pretty sure I have two right feet. Having two left feet seems so common nowadays, I’m sure they have dancing lessons for those people. But there’s no hope for me.”

“Exactly,” Andrea said as she got to her feet.

“Try anyway,” Ryan suggested. “I want to understand what goes into choreographing something. Do you just like…move to the music….or something?”

Andrea shook her head. “Do you write your jokes without finding a topic first?”

“Oh, so it’s like that…” Ryan sighed, seeming to actually pay attention to Andrea when she talked about dance for once.

Andrea nodded. “After that….well, if I can, I start dancing. Usually it’s just a basic dance that I learned back in the days. Something to just get my body moving and thinking…” Andrea started moving, letting her body decide the pace. There wasn’t any music playing, so Andrea managed to fall into the rhythm of a simple dance she had learned as a child. “And then…” Andrea continued, “You add your own stuff in, depending on the music and the story you want to tell…”

Andrea could feel herself drifting off again. This was one of the reasons Andrea knew she’d find teaching dance a difficult thing. Once her body started moving, she found it harder and harder to maintain the ability to form coherent sentences and commands.

But Ryan didn’t ask anything else. Andrea just continued moving, incorporating her own moves into the simple dance. It wasn’t anything she’s put on stage; it simply became a series of turns and simple steps, but Andrea could feel her mood lightening as she continued.

She had no idea how long she continued like that; another effect dance had on her, but she only stopped when her lungs could no longer keep up with the pace her feet set.

“So you are a classical dancer at heart.”

Andrea snapped back to reality and spun to look at the front door. “Jay.”

“Dre,” Jay said, a smile playing on his face, no doubt because of the rhyme in their names. Andrea would have thought it cute had she not been caught off-guard by his appearance.

“Where’s Ryan?”

“Ryan’s here?” Jay asked, clearly confused, since no one else was in the room except the two of them.

Andrea groaned. “I must have been dancing longer than I had thought…” she sat down, resigned to the fact that there was nothing she could do except talk to Jay. If she had demanded him to leave, she would have just gotten angry again, and after the effort she had just put into calming down, she didn’t want to have to do it again. On the other hand, if she just didn’t talk, nothing would be resolved.

Jay approached her slowly and sat next to her. “Were you classically trained?” he asked. “It seems like it…”

Andrea nodded slowly. “Until I was a sophomore in high school, I was a classical dancer.”

“Oh…And what made you go to breakdancing?”

Andrea sighed. She was beginning to wonder if Ryan had set this whole thing up. It wasn’t like him to talk about “letting things go,” so for an opportunity to come clean to someone, particularly Jay, seemed too much like a set up.

“There was an accident when I was sixteen. I was in a competition, and during a lift, my partner dropped me. I don’t know if it was something I did, he did, or if it was just a freak accident, but I any sense, I ended up essentially shattering a knee cap. I had to get the whole thing replaced, and by the time I had gotten the surgery and could walk again, I had been forgotten or marked out.”

“Damn,” she heard Jay sigh.

“Yeah…At first, I didn’t want to dance at all, and I tried to throw myself into school, but I discovered that the less I danced, the worse I did at school. I ended up fighting with my step-mom a lot because of the accident and ended up getting kicked out. Or maybe I left; I can’t remember clearly anymore.”

“Why were you fighting about the accident?” Jay asked. “Sorry to ask, it just seems odd to fight over an accident in which you got hurt.”

Andrea chuckled grimly. “The partner that I was with when the accident happened? My step-brother. My step-mom’s son.”

“Oh…” Jay said with a grimace. “I didn’t even know you had any siblings…”

“We don’t talk much; either about or with each other,” Andrea explained. “We don’t hate each other, really. But my step-mom blames me for ‘ruining’ her son’s career, and I’ve been trying to get it through to her for years that John, her son, doesn’t actually like to dance. He used to tell me all the time, and he tried telling his mom all the time, but she wouldn’t listen. Even now, he’s a successful marketer in Chicago, and his mom’s still convinced he was meant to be a dancer and he hates being behind a desk. In fact, I know he loves it; at least, he did when he sent me his last email three months ago.”

“Damn,” Jay repeated. “You’ve got it hard.”

Andrea shrugged. “Is it sad that I’m sort of used to it?”

Jay looked at Andrea, concern in his eyes. “What about your dad?”

Andrea smiled. “My dad hates confrontation. He convinced himself a long time ago that the fights he’d had with my mom before she died was what lead to her death, so he avoids it all costs. And at the end of the day, I’d still get kicked out again if it meant that my dad didn’t worry.”

“Oh…” Jay said, nodding. Andrea could tell that he didn’t quite approve of the situation she was in with her family, but he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

Andrea sighed. It actually felt good to have told Jay all that. She felt…lighter. She laid down on her back, looking up at the ceiling, and smiled to herself when she felt Jay do the same next to her. Their hands were touching; more than they needed to me, but less than they could have been, but Andrea still blushed knowing that he had his hand there on purpose.

It wasn’t until a while later that Andrea realized that Jay hadn’t asked about her relationship with his crew, but that she also didn’t care that he hadn’t asked.

Thanks for reading/subscribing~!

As for not updating as much: I apologize. I've just started college, so I'm still getting used to things. tHanks for your contining patience!

:D