Reverse Rivalry

The Motive

Mr Pell didn't even look up when a loud crash filled his pitiful room.
His office door slammed pathetically into the wall causing a deep sigh to rumble in his chest.

"I want them!" The voice brazenly stated accompanied with the confident click of heels rapidly approaching his desk. Mr Pell's writing on the poor paper stopped abruptly tearing a hole into it. He grimaced. Two manicured hands landed in front of him. Mr Pell's eyebrows ticked in annoyance. He knew he would have regretted involving her.  He could feel a small ache in his head already. He knew he shouldn't have considered this even if she was the best or only dance instructor he knew.

He slowly looked up into her blazing brown eyes that reflected passion, a burning fire he often saw when she wanted something and she would stop at nothing to get it.

Her face was alive and bright. Mr Pell felt a trickle of anxiety run down his spine. How adamant will she be about this? She leaned closer to his face.

"I need those boys Linole," She stated again like it was a command and not a request.

"They are not objects to own, Catalina," He answered leaning back out of the uncomfortable small distance between their faces. Pell was internally groaning at his mistake. He should have known she would have gone batshit crazy over this. She was a woman who recognised talent but also blinding chemistry.

She lived off drama.

"No, no entiendes, amigo," She continued with fervour reaching across the table to clutch Linole's shirt and snap him forward. Their noses almost collided and he could see her frightening expression up close. He winced when the hard surface dung into his chest. Her eyes were like glow sticks peering down at him. Linole knew she couldn't see anything else but her desire right now. She whispered while staring intensely into him.

"Only in a millennium do you find rage so hot Linole, only in one lifetime do you see passion so alive on the floor mijo,"

Linole felt sweat cascade down his brow. He wanted to snarl at her but he could only stare blankly. Catalina Romano could be described as, eccentric. The epitome of the word. If he had a penny every time he was subjected to her bizarre ideas over the years, he would be vacationing in Bali instead of being here right now, being a victim to this torture.

Linole couldn't even open his mouth to complain because he caused this on himself. Why did he ever think she would do this and walk out of it sane?

The woman was never like that and he was a fool to think otherwise. He groaned pushing her hands off his shirt. He settled back in his chair. He lifted his hand to rub his aching temples.

"They are footballers Catalina, not dancers, what you're asking for is impossible,"

"Impossible is not in my dictionary, I will have them," She said snapping upright. She folded her arms over her chest.

"When you called me over here with that tone of voice I've never heard before, then you should have expected this,"

Linole wanted to throw something at her even though she was right. He had been desperate. The dance instructor in his mediocre teaching staff decided out of the blue, he wanted to leave for some business he had to attend, 'urgently'. It had seared a dent in his plans completely because he didn't expect it, plus, Skylar Lain, that student. Linole gritted his teeth. He didn't want to reschedule this meeting in the slightest but that kid had some audacity so his only solution became her. He had hesitated to call her knowing she would answer like this,

"Oh! mi querido amigo, why did you dare to call?"

If Linole had a choice, that day 10 years ago, he would have opted not to ever crossed paths with Catalina Romano but without her, would he have survived school, living, anything? Linole didn't want to think about it.