Tomorrow night will be the first rehearsal for the Studio Company and I’m staying late tonight to work on some choreography. I signed out the small studio and I plan on watching reels from last year to get a feeling for the director’s style and his expectations for his dancers.
I’m not a contemporary dancer by a long shot, and while this company incorporates some classical dance, they are known for breaking boundaries. This is the reality that Katerina completely missed the bus on. During her career, it was ballet or bust, and ballerinas laughed off other forms of dance as fads, not to be taken seriously. In a lot of ways, her antiquated beliefs did me a disservice because the selling point of today’s dancers is all about versatility. It’s not a bonus. It’s a necessity for a successful career.
I lie on my back on the hard wood, earbuds in, feet together and knees turned out in a full butterfly as I stretch my hips. I’m blasting Tame Impala to shut the whole world out. I want to move to the music and forget about all the dysfunctional relationships I have in my life, including the one with food and my body.
Deciding to say fuck it to Mother and her absurd weigh-ins, I unwrap one of the granola bars from my dance bag and eat it slowly, savoring the sweet and salty taste. Knowing that Dash left it there for me warms me up from the inside.
I feel the vibration of footsteps across the floor and sit up. It’s dark out and it seemed to me like only the custodial staff occupied the dance building after hours.
I find Dash walking across the floor to me, one hand on his hip, the other shoved in his pocket.
He gives me a wry smile as he saunters in my direction. “What’s shakin’ Sammy bacon?”
I smile in spite of the tension. “I was looking at the choreography from last year’s show. I wanted to get a jump start so I don’t look like an ass at our first Studio Company rehearsal.”
“You? An ass? Impossible. Your superpower is making others look like asses. No one dances like you, Sam. You’re one of a kind—across genres.”
I fold into middle splits and lay the side of my head on the hardwood floor, subtly ignoring his comment.
“Do you even like to dance anymore, Sam?” Dashiell plops down beside me and slides his dance bag to the mirror.
“What?” I ask defensively. I push into scissor splits and reach for my back foot, lifting it and bringing it to my head to stretch my quad.
“It’s a genuine question, Sam. Have you forgotten why you started dancing? What you love about it? Why it starts a fire in your heart?”
I don’t know why, but tears prick my eyes and I can’t hide my feelings from him.
Dashiell grabs the back of my neck and pulls me until our foreheads are touching and his mouth is inches from mine. “Love it again. It will solve all of your problems.”
“I don’t know how,” I choke out with a sob.
“Come here,” he says and helps me to stand. Dash turns me away from the mirror to face the door to the hallway. “Close your eyes if you have to. I want you to feel the music. Feel your body. Follow that and let go of all the meaningless criteria you cling to. Forget the rules. Dance for yourself, Sam.”
I close my eyes and Dashiell puts on the music. I recognize the song as Don’t Start Now, by Dua Lipa.
Dash comes behind me and kicks my feet out to widen my stance. “Give me attitude, Sam. Tell me a story where you’re the badass.”
His hands find my hips and he pulls my back flush with his chest. He pushes one hip down and rotates his pelvis into my ass. I follow his lead and flow into the music and his movements, letting go of all the tension inside me. I do my best to unleash my inner badass, and Dash makes it easy, leading me with grace and command. The dance is provocative and sexy and being this close to him drives me crazy in a good way. I can feel his chest heaving with exertion and his breath comes fast on my neck.
Is this even dancing? This pulsing joy, this almost violent exuberance where I feel like I can fly and slay dragons in the same breath? It feels a lot like love, moving in tandem with Dashiell. Our issues fade into the background while our bodies listen and respond and reach a kind of symbiosis that feels divine; it’s like worship. I want to live forever in this state, and when the music finally comes to an end, I stay close and Dashiell holds me in his arms.