Chapter Text
School has always been and will be torture.
I was in the third hour of Friday, just before the break to go to the dining room and be able to satisfy my belly from all the hunger accumulated in the day, although in our last year it is difficult to have free time.
Fridays are always the most tedious to cope, much more in the hour before leaving school and finally enjoying the weekend with friends or sleeping at home.
Well, most of the building does that on their days off.
I was just waiting for the time to leave that room and go to the practice rooms to continue rehearsing my graduation project and record it once and for all. Literally, my whole school life depended on that stupid project, since I was in charge of showing everything I learned during the 4 years that I belonged to the school. But likewise, it was quite effective.
That school of Art divided its students according to the discipline from which they wanted to learn, including: Performing arts, plastic, musical, vocal, visual, digital, etc. In this way, there were 3 courses from each of the disciplines with classes assigned to meet learning and training, all over a four-year period. At the time I was seventeen years old and belonged to the 4-B class in Vocalization, I should have been in a lower class, but my birth did its job, since I was nowhere near eighteen.
The teacher kept talking about grammar rules for about 10 more minutes until the bell rang and she quickly said goodbye to the class taking her things to leave the room almost jogging.
I had already put everything away for a while, so I just took my backpack and went out. I walked calmly towards the practice hall, nobody usually uses any of the rooms on this day since everyone prefers to leave as soon as possible, so there was no rush.
The recording rooms, or studios, were at the end of the corridor, so he had to pass all the other practice rooms, many of them were for Dance, which had windows outside the room to observe the students' rehearsal and some others were for Musicalization, which housed a large number of instruments within them. There were also the Performing Arts, or Theater, since they did not allow many rehearsals in the auditorium due to issues of time between courses.
The first ones were Musicalisation, since in the morning you always heard the sound of the instruments being well tuned. The next ones were the Theater ones, in which they probably always rehearsed a play of anguish due to the amount of screaming and crying that were perceived from the hallway. They were followed by those of Dance, these always had their windows monopolized by people for the incredible choreographies that were practiced there, in addition to being the discipline with the most "popular" students of the school. The recording studios are finally following, which were equipped with soundproof walls, or soundproofing.
But just before I got to the first studio, I heard a thunderous sound coming from one of the Dance Rooms. Out of curiosity, since nobody usually stays after the day, I went to the hall window and looked for someone rehearsing.
At first glance I didn't find any students, but then a short-haired blonde girl appeared along with the song played. She wore a white T-shirt that was about 5 sizes bigger than her along with a fairly small black shorts. She had an adorable pineapple-like ponytail on top of her head, making her look even smaller.
The girl began to move along with the first beat of the song, BO $$ from Fifth Harmony was heard in almost the entire hall, or at least my whole body could feel it, she snapped her fingers to the beat of the song, accompanied by a Slight hip movement just before turning around and looking at the mirror in the great room, she stood still the moment the vocal part started, but she quickly wiggled her hips followed by a half turn and an incredible hairflip. She stayed in the middle until just before the chorus, walking backwards and then to the side with little cheerleader jumps. In a strange way, she made seeing everything very easy, her body moved in such a captivating way, and despite the fact that her movements were quite aggressive compared to her small body and that hip hop atmosphere, they did not lose the sensuality in the curvatures of each segment of the choreography. Her legs and arms seemed to work magic when she had to change positions, they were so fast and coordinated, with a lot of hips at every point he looked at, just impressive.
I could only think how amazing she looked rehearsing.
Although I'm not a big fan of Dance or body movements, that girl made me very interested in that. Although being honest, she was the one that interested me.
The choreography ended with a pose that could only be described as compromising; kneeling with her chest almost touching the ground, one of her fingers rests on her thin lips as a "silence" and her erratic breathing does nothing but speed my heart for the intensity of her staging.
She dropped to the floor trying to catch her breath, genuinely smiling as she raised her fists to the air. I did not imagine everything she had practiced to achieve that gem, but what if she was proud of her work.
I was still standing in the hallway thinking about everything I had seen in just two minutes and that mysterious girl that caused a strange sensation in my body. She stood up and took off her shirt slowly, showing off her black sports top and undisputed figure. Her waist was so small for her broad hips, her toned abs, and her collarbones would have gone wonderfully with the previous song.
In just a minute she had already started to dance again, but now a much rougher song or not so sensual, thus showing her duality of death.
I had never seen her before in any of the rooms, much less at school, since it was quite obvious that she belonged to Dance and they are different floors in the building.
The girl kept moving along with Rhythm Ta, a song that was in fashion in those years, with a "masculine" body line in keeping with the rhythm. At one point in the song she quickly removed the garter holding her ponytail and adjusted her bangs (then unknown to me). Her body, already covered by that small layer of sweat, produced such waves that it even seemed to electrify me.
Her bangs were stuck to his forehead due to sweat and small drops of it slipped from her jaw, passing through her exposed neck until it was lost on the edge of her sports top. The song was already in the freedance, and she only looked at herself in the mirror, smiled with her hands on her waist, and turned around, thus ending the choreography. Almost instantly, she collapsed on the floor of the room, giving small cries of joy and moving her arms and legs wildly.
A deep feeling of pride filled my heart, and although I didn't know her at all, I knew that feeling was from seeing her so happy in her rehearsal. I know at that time I was smiling hugely (for no reason of course) and my cheeks burned.
She took a breath and stood up again, the smile remained on her tired face, surely she had spent a lot of time practicing both choreographies. She walked slowly to her cell phone and placed the first track again. But just as she turned to rehearse again, her eyes met mine through the window.
I felt my face burn, and it was quite likely that I was blushing a hundred.
The blonde girl bowed quickly with her reddish face and painted ears, almost waving.
I don't think I've ever felt more embarrassed in my life than at that time.
She found me observing her essay.
One Friday at the end of the day.
Completely alone.
In a rather awkward way I bowed to her in greeting, although it seemed more of an apology. The little girl smiled at me waving her hand and I answered almost automatically.
She played the song and started rehearsing again, but she was quite nervous.
I would have liked to stay longer that day, but the final project called, and it really was a hassle.
The girl made eye contact with me in some parts of the choreography, and every time it happened her face became more reddish. It was adorable.
I quickly took the blue post-it pad out of my backpack and started writing on the opposite side of the small sheet.
I placed the note right on the window, so that what I wrote could be read on the other side.
She was still dancing, still quite nervous, but in her own world.
My last look through the big window was the cute smile that was forming on her lips, and that somehow made my heart race.
(...)
When I entered the studio I totally regretted it.
"Why didn't I write you something better?" thought
I guess the heat of the moment did not let me think completely well. But I still regret not asking her name on that post-it.
"You dance amazing"
Pretty uncreative.
I tried to focus on my project a lot of times, but my mind kept going against me because I kept thinking about the blonde haired girl, having a lot of failed records in recording memory.
The rest of the afternoon is a hazy memory, but it must be said that I could not finish my project, nor see that girl again at the end of my practice day.
And as she passed the practice room she was in, the note was no longer on the window.