Chapter Text
One beat of music struck the air. Then came the second. Next the third. And finally the fourth. Soft piano rang through the studio as a pointed toe slid off the ground and found its place hovering just above the floor. The dancer lifted the inside middle of his thigh to turn out and straightened out his posture. Perfect. Just the way it should be. And the only way it can be.
Basilton Pitch always made sure his first move at the studio was absolutely perfect. It was the first motion of the day, so it needed to set the standard for the rest. Besides, he wasn't going to be like the rest in the studio and build up to that perfection. Perfection must be a constant; otherwise, what was the point of temporary satisfaction? If he was going to be anything like his ancestors, he could never show the sin of mistake.
The girl in front of him pulled her leg warmers up. Penelope Bunce, a dark and thick girl, who probably would have been better than Wellbelove if she didn't spend half her time in hip hop classes. She has said that she likes variety and branching out her interests, but Baz thought that was foolish. Why not focus on one area so you can be the best? To be fair, Bunce did balance her time wisely and managed doing well in both, but Baz couldn't see the point of "well" if perfect was on the table.
Meanwhile, at school, Bunce was right behind Baz in the race for best in their year. But just like in ballet, she was constantly off doing something else to prevent her from the top. She kept gallivanting with Snow doing god knows what rather than studying harder. That's not to say Baz didn't admire her. But her unfulfilled potential would never stop annoying him.
Agatha Wellbelove stared off into the distance as she balanced the tips of her fingers on the barre. Baz couldn't read her mind, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was carefully counting each beat of their warm up song. Her blonde bun reflected the overhead lights as her pale legs stretched in front of her. If Baz was the best guy in the class, Wellbelove was the best girl.
However, she didn't seem to care as much about the studio as everyone else. A ridiculous opinion to Baz, since, after all, his legendary late mother used to own this studio. He often saw Wellbelove looking at pamphlets for studios in California, a place so far off he didn't think she'd ever make it there.
He didn't know much else about Wellbelove, other than the fact that she probably had a crush on him. Baz didn't really care, him being gay and all, but he did feel sort of bad for her. Here she was trapped in this place when all she wanted to do was escape.
"Alright, if you're done warming up, let's come to the center and start rehearsal," David, the director, said to the class.
Just as Baz was tightening his fifth position, the door left of David swung open, and a teenage boy gasping for breath sped inside. Simon Goddamn Snow.
"I'm...so...sorry..." he said. "...I got...lost..."
"That's alright, Simon," said David, "You can go right next to Agatha."
Snow did manage to squeeze in next to Wellbelove, but on his other side lie a puzzled Baz.
"What are you doing here? Did you miss the memo that this place is for experienced dancers?" Baz hissed at him.
"Interesting you say that, since I've been dancing for ten years," Snow whispered back.
"This place isn't just some local hip hop slum you know. It's the Pitch Dance Company. The PDC. Maybe you've heard of it? Or did you miss our museums and international studios?"
"No, I think I missed them going to Bunce Studios, which has ten million subscribers and appeared multiple times on TV. So maybe you should get off your ballet high horse and shut the hell up."
"Be quiet back there!" shouted David, starting up the combination music. He gave a long look at Snow, lifting his gaze from shoe to head before nodding slightly and turning his back.
Baz grimaced and hit the first position of the combo. Of course Simon Bloody Snow had to join his dance studio. That klutzy idiot will probably fall out of a single after twisting his ankle. Of all studios, why did he have to join this one? After all, Snow only did hip hop with Bunce, right? Sure, he danced at an incredibly successful studio, but still hip hop. Why would he join such a demanding ballet studio?
No matter the reason, Snow just had to infiltrate the one place where Baz's thoughts were free of him.
Just as expected, as he danced the piece, Baz felt himself lose his balance and nearly fall. All because of stupid Snow. Him and his beautiful bronze curls and kind blue eyes distracted Baz, which was totally unfair. How was he supposed to focus when a blurred Snow moved in the corner of his eye?
David called for a water break after what had seemed like forever. Snow sped to Bunce, who was drinking from some kind of eco-friendly bottle. Baz crept toward them.
"Baz?" Snow said. "What'd you want?"
"Oh, yeah. Hey Snow. Just wondering why the fuck you joined my studio."
"You want a serious answer or are you just here to insult me more?"
"All business." Baz held up his hands in surrender.
"Fine," Snow said. "I've mostly been doing hip hop, but my instructor has been saying my technique, posture, and all that needed touch up, and that ballet will help with all that. So, now I'm here."
"Okay, but why here? There're a million dance studios less intense than this place," said Baz.
"Well, Penny goes here. And you say all the time it's the best dance studio, so why not?"
"Was the best dance studio. Now that David's got his hands all over it, its true glory got destroyed."
"Alright, calm your dramatic arse."
"So that's it? You're just going because you want to?"
"Pretty much."
"You didn't think about it at all?"
"I don't think much about anything."
"Makes sense."
"As much as I would love to sit around and listen to you two bicker all day," Bunce said, "I think our water break's over."
The three left their water bottles on the floor as they scurried off into the classroom.
As the music started up again, Baz watched Snow's bronze hair flutter through the air during a pirouette. Those blue eyes sparkled with happiness when he landed correctly.
How was Baz going to survive this?