Chapter Text
“Slow down, slow down. Back a few measures, sight read, alright? Let us go slowly.” Piano chords slowly filled the room again, more staccato than before, but with greater fluidity as well. It was all in patience and practice, and learning to appreciate the notes written on the paper, whether in a time signature of three over four, twelve over eight, or four over four. Gently, slowly, the notes on the paper began to transform into a cohesive melody that came to a close with a gradual decrescendo.
“Great job! And all it took was a slight bit of patience. I would like you to work on that piece more for next week, please.”
The student nodded, smiling. Freddy wore a warm smile too, and picked up the music sheets, stacking them neatly to hand them over so they could be placed in the music folder. He bid them a good day as they left the small room, comfortable with warm tones of mahogany wood in the door and floors. He turned his attention back to the piano, cracking his fingers and playing a few simple scales to keep the basics fresh. Humming along to himself, he finished and pulled the piece that closed over the keys down, stood up, and pushed the bench in. The clock above the door ticked to 4:45, which was his cue to lock the door and leave. He had to pick his son up from wherever he had run off to, most definitely some place in the ballet portion of the studio. After coming through the hallway that led back to the piano room and crossing through the lobby, he made it to the right side of the building.
On his search for the small boy who seemed to have a knack for causing minor disruptions wherever his short legs carried him in the building, he was stopped by movement in his peripherals. It came from a solo studio, where the wall surrounding the door were windows and the walls inside were all mirrors. There was a person in there, spinning fast. Like a feather caught in a tornado, graceful, and at the mercy of the wind. Pirouette, Freddy absently remembered Ballora teaching him the term. The person was doing pirouettes.
The spinning slowed, and the figure stopped their rotation with their left foot extended out, toes touching the ground, and arms posed gracefully, reminiscent of an “L.” Freddy was mesmerized, and could now clearly see that the person dancing was a man.
His stomach dipped, and mouth dried. He was beautiful.
“Somebody caught your eye, I presume?”
Freddy had been so focused on the dancer in the studio that he had completely failed to detect the head ballerina, Ballora, in the hallway with him at all. She had an immense stature, towering over him (though he wasn’t on the tallest side of the spectrum to begin with), long toned legs, and the most defined hourglass shape anybody would ever see. The dark skinned man looked up at her, backing up a bit to more comfortably meet her eyes. Her smile was telling, she had seen him standing there longer than a minute and could sense the mesmerization, almost as if it rolled off of him in waves. He swallowed.
“Yes. No. Maybe. More importantly, have you seen Gregory?”
On cue of his name, the small boy popped out from right behind Ballora’s legs, giggling.
“Papa’s distracted.” Even the seven year old could notice Freddy’s interest in the mysterious dancing man. It must have been quite a while that he was standing there.
“New student?” Freddy asked, trying to move past the fact of his obvious infatuation. “Returning. Took classes with me far before you and I met. Needed a challenge, so he came back to his roots.” Ballora explained. Her voice was so graceful, so precise, even in simple explanations. The piano teacher nodded.
All the while during their conversation, the man had gone back to dancing, working on his routine and performing moves Freddy could never hope to name. He could only remain mesmerized, if he allowed himself to watch again. The woman and his child in the vicinity would make it hard to do so without embarrassment, though.
“Come on, Gregory, we best be getting home soon. Don’t want to start dinner too late, right?” Freddy spoke, attempting to escape without further distraction. Gregory happily went over to his side from Ballora’s, grabbing hold of his open hand.
“Bye bye Ms. Ballora!” he waved, smiling. There was a small gap in his two front teeth, which Freddy found adorable. The ballerina waved back, smiling as well. The father and son duo left the studio, briskly walking home to keep routine.
There was a knock on the door, Bonnie only opened one eye to acknowledge it. “Come in.”
Ballora stepped into the studio room, closing the door behind her softly. “You had an observer earlier.”
Now both eyes were open. “I did?”
Ballora nodded. “Yes. He was very… entranced with your performance.”
“Oh, really? It was just practice. Another student of yours? Rookie?”
“No, a colleague. The piano instructor.”
“The one with the odd bear name?”
Ballora smiled fondly, a soft laugh bouncing around in her chest and throat. “Yes, the one with the odd bear name. His name is Freddy Fazbear.”
“Yeah, really odd name. So he liked it?”
“I don’t use the word ‘entranced,’ lightly, Bonnie. I’m sure he more than liked it. Modesty is kind when avoiding being conceited but you do have to recognize the level of your talent. Why do you underestimate yourself?”
“I don’t, I’m modest for kindness, as you say. I keep myself rather humble.”
“Mmhmm, sure, yes, and that’s exactly why your pirouettes are better balanced than a tightrope walker yet you claim you’re as graceful as a newborn deer.” Ballora’s voice was dripping dramatic sarcasm, which Bonnie rolled his eyes at.
“All I’m saying is, be proud. You’ve earned that much. Also, it’s time to leave. You go ahead, I have to stay behind and close up.”
“Alright. I’ll see you once you’re done, Madame.”
Bonnie exited the dancer’s room once he had gathered up his things and made his way down the halls of the music studio, nearing the entrance with each step. Entranced… the word echoed around his mind, and made his heart skip a beat. This mysterious colleague of his teacher was entranced with his skills, his moves. He was mesmerized.