Rabiosa, rabiosa, yo soy rabiosa~
WHO: Ale y Emi
WHEN: May 6th, Friday evening.
WHERE: An empty dance studio. Somewhere.
WHAT: Just some innocent, platonic, and good ol' dance practice between two friends. Really. Really.
They had been practicing on and off for a while, meeting when they could and when the dance studio was empty. Work and conflicting schedules made it difficult at times, but they were able to manage. Though with her parents coming to visit not too long ago, Emi had been unable to meet with Ale to do anything more than chat.
But tonight, they were both free. Free to practice for what some would view to be nothing more than a silly dance competition. But for someone trained in dance since the tender of age three (though she supposed what she did at that age was probably something akin to a wobbly shimmy and shake with the occasional twirl), this was more than just a silly competition. And she knew it was the same for Alejándro. This was just another way to, not only enjoy herself, but also as a way to display her talent and prowess outside of the pounding walls of nightclubs and the festive cultural shows that she oftentimes took part in.
And hell if they were going to lose.
Carefully depositing her bag beside the nearest wall, Emi bent down to fish out the pair of heels that she had brought along. Already in her typical workout-slash-dance (practice) attire, Emi decided to wait before trading her flats for heels until Ale arrived.
WHEN: May 6th, Friday evening.
WHERE: An empty dance studio. Somewhere.
WHAT: Just some innocent, platonic, and good ol' dance practice between two friends. Really. Really.
They had been practicing on and off for a while, meeting when they could and when the dance studio was empty. Work and conflicting schedules made it difficult at times, but they were able to manage. Though with her parents coming to visit not too long ago, Emi had been unable to meet with Ale to do anything more than chat.
But tonight, they were both free. Free to practice for what some would view to be nothing more than a silly dance competition. But for someone trained in dance since the tender of age three (though she supposed what she did at that age was probably something akin to a wobbly shimmy and shake with the occasional twirl), this was more than just a silly competition. And she knew it was the same for Alejándro. This was just another way to, not only enjoy herself, but also as a way to display her talent and prowess outside of the pounding walls of nightclubs and the festive cultural shows that she oftentimes took part in.
And hell if they were going to lose.
Carefully depositing her bag beside the nearest wall, Emi bent down to fish out the pair of heels that she had brought along. Already in her typical workout-slash-dance (practice) attire, Emi decided to wait before trading her flats for heels until Ale arrived.