Permission To Dance

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Biting her lip, Tara gathered up her things. A few pens rattled on the table, but Tara didn't mind. The melodic tones echoed in her head and a nondescript smile formed on her lips. Everyone was busy packing their own things, nobody paid any attention to them. Even if Tara hadn't packed, nobody would have noticed her, she was unimportant, tiny. Almost inconspicuous. She was different, but not different enough to be interesting in the eyes of others. Merely in their mouths and words they put their names only when it comes to whispering. Quiet, loud, conspicuous, unobtrusive. Again and again or less often. Like a swarm of mosquitoes, dancing back and forth, getting more and more annoying and louder, and then moving away again. Humming softly, she completed the harmony of the pens, expanded them, played with them and was just about to carry them further out into the world, but it quickly fell silent again when she looked up and saw two girls there, evil whispers drifting towards her over and latched onto her body like nasty burrs. Biting her lip, she quickly packed up and quickly ran out of the room, off home. She'd heard enough buzzing, buzzing, whispering. Now Tara just wanted to hear the beautiful sounds of the world, of music. She moved quickly away, quickly, quietly, and with her head and shoulders bowed. Ducking from the resentment, the hate, the misunderstood passion and love, and above all other horrors, Tara found herself hurrying home. "Of course she had to make it clear to everyone today how smart she is. With those horn-rimmed glasses, that's the only thing that makes her different. Without her books she wouldn't even have a personality," growled a dark figure behind her. She hoped she would be more but she didn't stand out. She was too different for that, but not different enough either; to stand out. To get noticed. "I wish she could really shut up. Why do we even have professors if the little freak babbles on for the whole lesson?" roared an even more somber, larger figure. They bent over her like deep, black shadows, and now, with her lower lip trembling, she ran home before they could spit more poison in her ears. Panting, Tara stopped in front of the front door and took a short breath. She had left the shadowy people behind for the time being, but she would run into them again at the lectures next week at the latest. Armed with the house key, Tara unlocked the door and hurriedly slipped inside. As comfortable as she felt here, it was just like home away from home, deep in her heart. Eat first, then dress, and Tara would be back where her soul and heart longed for; her first home. So now she was busy in the kitchen with quick hands to prepare a quick but filling snack. Finally, the pancakes with fruits were quick enough and filling. Tara then ate a little hastily, with a nervous look at the clock. Tick ​​Tock. Another bite. And again; Tick ​​Tock. With a half-eaten pancake in hand, she quickly disappeared into her room, throwing clothes around. One top was in the wash, the other didn't match the color. Sighing, she closed her eyes and let her hand feel over different fabrics. Smooth, soft, warm, they all felt different. Familiar, but still so strange, as if they had just met each other again. Eventually, Tara opened her eyes to see the random selection. A lemon-yellow sweater, nice and soft, but not too bulky for later. And again, at least she couldn't just walk around in a top. Why was she thinking about walking around shirtless? Maybe it was just the inner urge to do something crazy, unexpected, to be different? Actually, it was, but not different enough. So what would it be like to be different enough? To be noticed? From everyone, like really everyone? To be so different that everyone would turn their heads for you? To be so different that you just carry on being so different, without caring even though everyone is watching you? She closed her eyes. Crazy, confused thoughts wasted precious time. Her precious time, which Tara didn't want to risk any longer. Again her fingers wandered over the clothes, she counted. At 7 she opened her eyes and grinned. ä Her finger pointed to the dark blue trousers with the wide ends. Your favorite number; plus favorite pants! coincidence? Or fate. Tara quickly stripped off the grey, dull clothes of everyday life and put on the colorful things as if they had always been a part of her, like her skin. Grinning, she straightened the top and turned once around her own to do a little twirl. Then she decided to fasten her red belt with the silver heart buckle, armed herself with lots of clacking, iridescent and colorful bracelets and put on big silver star earrings, so that they rattled softly against her earlobes. A little later she had arrived at her destination, the first home of her heart. Or just all of themselves.
Almost mechanical, the way she changed shoes. And how naturally she could get up, others staggered or found themselves in the arms of their loved one. Except that it wasn't mechanical, it was more savoring, sensual. She sat for a moment, running her fingers over the scrolls and closing her eyes as she listened to them whisper a little secret to her. There was always something new to whisper and each time she listened with a pounding heart. With a pounding heart, she stood up and turned around once. Her wavy, messy hair bounced up on her shoulders, although she actually wore it in a ponytail with a thick neon green headband adorned with equally neon green sparkling stars. But some of the caramel blonde locks had slipped out of the tie secretly, not that it would bother her. Humming, she stepped onto the polished hall floor and listened, the music was still quiet. Quiet, beautiful and gentle. Step by step she stepped forward, her gaze wandered around, slowly a broad smile crept onto her previously indifferent lips and then she stormed off. She let the music rock her gently, back and forth. Left, right, turn once, and then again, left, right, turn once, and again, and again, and then many times, until she stopped, baggy trousers billowing slightly and hair as she flashed the widest smile and the otherwise so dreary gray ones, tired eyes gleamed as if the storm had finally awakened in them.




Taehyung sighed softly, what was it like to just dive into a crowd? Easy..well, not being noticed? Of course he was noticed. Why not? But..why did he actually stand out? Ever since he was in America and it wasn't even such a short time..He had tried his best to fit in. But still, he was always the misfit. The stranger. So different that everyone noticed. Was it so different, so strange and absurd? Just because you could tell he wasn't at home here? So what does home mean? He would dare call the world here his home. But people like to judge, way too much. And if your eyes are a little too narrow, you no longer belong to them. If you weren't one of them anymore. Not a human, a nobody. And yet he was treated like an alien. A someone, but a nobody. Someone who was so much, but so little. He continued to walk through the crowded crowd with quick steps. "Mummy, Mummy! Look, he has such funny eyes!", a little boy shouted and tried to adjust the eyes so that they could look like his South Korean's dark eyes. But they didn't, they couldn't, and they never would. He walked faster. Now they slowly looked after him more and more. One whispered. "Maybe...a spy...out...?" he snapped from an older couple, doing his best not to roll his eyes. He didn't want to be dismissed as a bully if he showed annoyed behavior. But actually it made no difference. No matter where he went, everyone seemed to know him. He was either the cat eater, the dog eater, the goofball. They all had their names for him, and they didn't even know his real one. People often tried to call him Lee or other typical Chinese names, and if he didn't respond, he was also scolded. But if he did react because he didn't feel like cursing, they would scold him anyway. He walked faster and faster, sometimes having to avoid children, adults or young women who had decided in the middle of the path to chatter and block it. As he narrowly avoided an old man, he stumbled backwards and smashed lightly into a wall. Hissing, he clutched the back of his head and turned, his tall, slender hand massaging the back of his head. "Why do you need chopsticks when you have such long fingers anyway," he heard a man mock his slender hands with long fingers and started biting his lip as he entered the building without even looking at what it was for And so he ended up in the roller skating hall, which was slowly getting a little emptier, and looked at the people there in astonishment. One person, however, caught his attention with ease. She really looked like she was genuinely enjoying herself. Danced, rolled and sometimes sang every now and then while the others looked at her disapprovingly as they tried to drive calmly but she let them fall overwhelmed in their own abilities. He heard loud laughter and for a brief moment it was like everything else went silent and the only thing he heard was his heartbeat and her angelic laughter, loud and bright. Not with the kind of laighs like he's grown up with, no. She threw back her head and laughed at the world as if to say, 'ahere I am, now what? Do you hear me? You all should better hear right now!' And somehow it made him smile. Taehyung walked down slowly, changed his shoes and took off his jacket as more and more left the hall and he dared himself uncertainly onto the polished floor, almost greeted the floor, but was able to save himself. When she flew over the surface like that, she made it look so easy..He shakily tried to get ahead, it was embarrassing when as an adult he was hanging on the edge like a little boy on his mother's skirt. After a while it was actually going really well. Eventually he started humming and enjoying the time. He forgot the time, as did the dancing angel, because surprisingly, observing it gave him the most pleasure. At some point he let go and involuntarily got in the middle, it seemed as if the last ones had also left the hall and so it was just the two of them. With a dull thump, they both landed on the ground and rubbed their heads. "I'm sorry!" They both exclaimed in unison and in shock and looked at each other for a moment. Then they burst out laughing. "I'm sorry..It's my first time today", he apologized again and tilted his head slightly. She recognized the gesture immediately, anyone else wouldn't understand it, but she wasn't everyone else. She was different, she had always been different. Smiling softly, she mimicked the gesture and apologized as well. "It's alright. I'm sure I can help you next time you come back," she remarked with a grin and made a few gestures with her hands. "Sure..Does that mean anything?" he asked curiously, since it looked too precise to be some randomly made gestures. "Sign language. It means you don't need permission to dance," she told him with a soft smile, their eyes meeting and he realizing that he had never seen such mesmerizing eyes in his life.




You Don't Need Permission To Dance.

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