Y/N Keishin, the daughter of the famous coach Ikkei Keishin, is a sophomore in college. With a double major in dance and education, she thinks there is nothing that can stop her... that is until her love life gets a little iffy.
I DONT OWN ANY CHARA...
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You watch as the dancers glissade and jeté across the Marley floor. Some are wearing their best leotards and others wearing leggings and tight fittings shirts. You being one of the latter, lines up to start the grand allegro across the floor.
As you hear a piano rendition of Alejandro by Lady Gaga playing in the background (yes it exists, I will link it below), you feel two hands wrap around your waist. You jumped at the sudden contact and turned to see who it was.
"You ready?", your partner asks.
Araki Yori, a junior at one the most prestigious arts colleges in all of Japan, stood behind you. Not to mention the two of you had been dating in secret for seven months at this point. Without allowing you to respond, he rapidly turned you around and prepared to assist you in the next exercise.
With burning cheeks, you began travelling across the floor. As you prepared to leap, he bent his knees along with you and squeezed your waist tighter. Pushing off the floor, you feel as if you are flying with wings you did not know you had. But, as you begin to get lost in thought, you forget you are not indeed flying and gravity works its magic.
"you dumbass, you couldn't keep your ADHD mind in check for a least one minute."
"shit..." you whisper to yourself as your hear the music abruptly stop. Michelle Deveraux, world renowned French Ballerina and all-around bitch, just stopped the music due to you falling flat on your ass. You know, in this moment, you were ROYALLY SCREWED.
While your still sitting on the floor with your aching tailbone, you hear the older woman begin to walk towards you with her cane repeatedly hitting the floor. With your mind racing, you see Yori slowly start to move behind you to help you up.
"No. If she is capable of falling, she is capable of standing up." Madame Deveraux commanded with the strongest French accent you've ever heard. Like real 'oui, oui, baguette, titty croissant' level of speech.
You began to stand up with whatever semblance of dignity you have left and adjust your skirt. As you assume fifth position, you begin to profusely apologize. "Madame Deveraux, I am so, so sorry. I got lost in thought and I-"
"Stop. Talking."
"we're fucked. like so fucked. like to the point where we might as well start packing our things."
"That is exactly what I want to see."
"i'm sorry... WHAT? this old hag must've forgotten to take her dementia pills this morning or did she not just witness us nearly BREAK OUR ASS BONES?!"
