Page 15 of Tension
Her flirtation is in his face and she’s making it known that she wants him, while Mateo is holding himself back, not falling into the path of unprofessionalism. I think that’s what I’ve been worried about lately. If he gives in to Yvonne and has what she thinks is a harmless night out and a harmless one drink, will he spiral and take us all with him? Is he worth that risk?
Her loud giggle has my eyes flicking back to their reflection in the mirror, and this time, Mateo is watching me. His eyes are like pools of honey shining bright from his face as he smiles tentatively at me before turning back to listen to whatever Yvonne is saying.
Why does this bother me? It’s none of my business. Yvonne’s behavior, Mateo’s reaction… none of it should matter, and yet, the sight of them together gnaws at me. I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on my stretches.
The irritation lingers though, a low warning in the back of my mind.It’s not jealousy,I tell myself.It’s a concern.Yvonne’s flirty nature is harmless most of the time, but Mateo doesn’t need distractions. He needs structure and encouragement, not someone hovering too close and making him forget why he’s here.
I’ll talk to her soon, I decide. Quietly and privately. She needs to understand the stakes… for Mateo and for the studio. For now, I let the moment pass, keeping my gaze on my own reflection in the mirror, willing myself to stay composed.
MATEO
The studio is buzzing with energy today; the vibe filled with excitement and intrigue. When I first arrived there, I found just Vaeda. I could sense her quiet sadness and immediately thought it was her ankle. I can sympathize with losing everything you worked so hard to have, but in her case, it was stolen. Not lost like mine. Now that Greyson and the others are here, the atmosphere has shifted, and we can all see the twinkle shining in Greyson’s eyes. He has something big to tell us.
Greyson stands at the front of the room, his posture immaculate, his hands clasped behind his back. The murmurs among the dancers are quiet as he steps forward, his piercing blue gaze sweeping over the group.
“Good morning, everyone,” he begins, his voice commanding yet warm. “Today’s class will focus on refining your skills, but first, I want to share some exciting news.”
I glance around, catching Yvonne’s curious expression and Adam’s slight frown of concentration. Even Vaeda, standing near the mirrors with her usual guarded demeanor, seems more attentive than usual.
“In six months,” Greyson continues, “there is a prestigious ballroom competition in Paris. The International Dance Open invites competitors from around the world, and it is one of the most celebrated events for dancers at every level, including intermediate. This is an opportunity not only to compete on a global stage but to represent Fusion Core Dance Studio.”
A ripple of excitement moves through the room. Paris. The thought alone sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. To compete again, to stand on a stage with the world watching. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
Greyson holds up a hand to quiet the murmurs. “Before you start packing your bags,” he says with a sly smile, “I want to make something clear. Not everyone will be going. Over the next four weeks, Vaeda and I will be watching closely to determine which couple has the potential to shine on that stage. Only one pair will represent us in Paris.”
Yvonne leans toward me, her voice low. “Looks like it’s time to bring our A game.”
I nod, my throat tight. The stakes are higher now. Every step, every turn, every glance will be scrutinized. There’s no room for error.
“We’ll begin today by focusing on the Viennese Waltz,” Greyson announces. “It’s a dance of love and elegance, and it will quickly show us who can handle the pressure.” He gestures to Vaeda, who steps forward with her usual poise.
“Find your partners,” Vaeda instructs, her tone brokering no nonsense. “Take your positions on the floor.”
I want to curse out loud for revealing to Vaeda that my ballroom is rusty. She’ll be scrutinizing me more now, and it adds a disadvantage to my and Yvonne’s partnership.
Adam and Kari move together like magnets, their stances fluid and attuned. Yvonne and I move to our spot, falling into frame with practiced ease. Her hand rests lightly on my shoulder, her touch steady. The music begins, the haunting melody filling the studio as we glide into motion.
Greyson and Vaeda circle the room, their eyes sharp and unforgiving. Every so often, one of them stops to offer corrections, their voices cutting through the music like percussion instruments.
“Extend your arms, Adam,” Vaeda calls. “Kari, match his energy. Your movements need to be cohesive.”
“Yvonne,” Greyson says as he passes us, “watch your turns. They’re too abrupt. Let them flow naturally.”
Yvonne adjusts immediately, her movements softening. I focus on maintaining our rhythm, letting the music guide me. The dance feels smoother now, more connected, but I can still feel Vaeda’s eyes on me, her gaze heavy with expectation.
As the song ends, Greyson claps his hands. “Good,” he praises. “Take a moment to catch your breath, then we’ll run it again.”
I step back, rolling my shoulders as Yvonne grabs a water bottle from her bag. “You’re doing great,” she gushes, flashing me a grin.
“Thanks,” I reply, though my thoughts are elsewhere. The idea of competing in Paris looms large in my mind. It’s more than just a competition; it’s a chance to prove myself, to reclaim a piece of the life I thought I’d lost.
Vaeda approaches as I’m adjusting my posture, her expression unreadable. “Your frame is improving,” she observes, her voicelow enough that only I can hear. “But your footwork is still inconsistent. You’re letting the music lead you instead of taking control.”
I nod, her words cutting through the haze of my thoughts. “I’ll work on it.”
“See that you do,” she responds, her gaze lingering for a moment before she moves on.
The second run-through is tighter, the group’s collective energy heightened by the stakes. Every movement feels charged, every misstep amplified. By the time the class ends, my insides are trembling with exertion and desperation. I want this so bad.
