WHO LEADS WHEN WE DANCE?
WHO: Eduard and Roderich.
WHEN: Monday, November 2. Afternoon.
WHERE: Picante Dance Studio.
WHAT: Dancing lesson sounds fun. But what happens when there isn't enough female partner?
Roderich was an excellent musician without a doubt - no one could question that. But a dancer? That was an area that he lacked confidence in. And what was one to do when one's roommate refused to come out of his room and avoid him at all cost? And when one had been relieved from his duty at work and was now not quite needed even though his term was not over until the end of the week?
One would, naturally, find something to keep oneself occupied. And that was what Roderich was doing. Especially when the advertisement had said, 'FIRST LESSON FREE!'. And anyone who knew the slightest about the Austrian would know that he liked free thing.
But to put himself out in the open to learn to ballroom dance took courage and destroyed dignity that was painful for him. Even as he sat quietly on the sideline and scanned the room. It was afternoon, afterwork hour, and the studio was spaced with about ten males and, oh Gott, three females. Do the math, and Roderich was already feeling uncomfortable about the situation.
And when the instructor - an overly stereotypical Latino male - stepped in front of the dance mirrors and looked down on his class, Roderich knew it was definitely not a good idea. He eyed the exit, plotting his escape.
Then the music started. Not the classical heart-pleasing that he had hoped for. But quick Latin beats echoed in the space.
"Partner up," the instructor barked, snapping his fingers. And maybe he was imaging it, but it felt like the instructor was looking right at him, threatening to hound him if he tried to leave the studio.
Roderich stood up, unwillingly. He was sure it was supposed to be Waltz lesson.
WHEN: Monday, November 2. Afternoon.
WHERE: Picante Dance Studio.
WHAT: Dancing lesson sounds fun. But what happens when there isn't enough female partner?
Roderich was an excellent musician without a doubt - no one could question that. But a dancer? That was an area that he lacked confidence in. And what was one to do when one's roommate refused to come out of his room and avoid him at all cost? And when one had been relieved from his duty at work and was now not quite needed even though his term was not over until the end of the week?
One would, naturally, find something to keep oneself occupied. And that was what Roderich was doing. Especially when the advertisement had said, 'FIRST LESSON FREE!'. And anyone who knew the slightest about the Austrian would know that he liked free thing.
But to put himself out in the open to learn to ballroom dance took courage and destroyed dignity that was painful for him. Even as he sat quietly on the sideline and scanned the room. It was afternoon, afterwork hour, and the studio was spaced with about ten males and, oh Gott, three females. Do the math, and Roderich was already feeling uncomfortable about the situation.
And when the instructor - an overly stereotypical Latino male - stepped in front of the dance mirrors and looked down on his class, Roderich knew it was definitely not a good idea. He eyed the exit, plotting his escape.
Then the music started. Not the classical heart-pleasing that he had hoped for. But quick Latin beats echoed in the space.
"Partner up," the instructor barked, snapping his fingers. And maybe he was imaging it, but it felt like the instructor was looking right at him, threatening to hound him if he tried to leave the studio.
Roderich stood up, unwillingly. He was sure it was supposed to be Waltz lesson.