“Dancing is poetry with arms and legs”. – Charles Baudelaire
Now this my first short story in a long time. But I’m expanding my horizons this year and so I decided to see if I could discover a new hobby. I was talking to one of my friends last week, and I got this idea to write short stories inspired by music videos. I was really intrigued so I decided to try it out with Ed Sheeran’s, “Thinking Out Loud” music video. If you’ve never seen it, you should definitely check it out here. My short story doesn’t follow the video or anything. I simply watched the video and this is the story that resulted. I hope you enjoy!
She heard the crowd erupt into applause as she came back to reality. With uneven breaths, beads of sweat running down her back, and pain shooting through her muscles, she beamed up into the crowd playing the role she was meant to be. They had killed it. The turnout on her pirouette hadn’t been ideal. But they had killed it. She had no doubt in her mind that they would move on to nationals. She stood there, the smile still plastered on her face, as the judges began their commentary. They complimented their use of technique and the level of difficulty of their moves, but what really amazed them was the chemistry between her and Sammy. They commended them for staying in character throughout the whole piece. But I wasn’t acting. It was all real. She thanked the judges for the ratings–perfect score–and then she exited the stage hand-in-hand with her partner Sammy.
They waited patiently in silence as the other teams performed. Before they knew it, all the performers were lined up on stage and Kira White and Samuel Reed were named the reigning champions. It was surreal–unbelievable, but expected at the same time. She and Sammy embraced and accepted their trophies. Time to go home. Time to talk.
It had been three days, ten hours, and twenty-seven minutes since they had kissed. They had agreed to not to mention it again until after the competition as to not inhibit their chances of winning. And now that they had won she was ready. Ready to talk.
They met up with their friends and family outside. A big celebration was to occur. After much argument, everyone decided it would be best for Kay and Sammy if they just had a simple dinner tonight and had a party next weekend.
Kay sat patiently through the dinner. Sammy and her hadn’t really talked much since the competition. They never really got a chance. They were always surrounded by people.
As the weariness in everyone set in, it was decided it was time to return to the hotel. Finally. The second she got back to her room, Kay jumped into the shower ready to wash off the day’s work.
She thought back to Sammy and hers performance. She remembered they way they moved together so fluid and precise, as if they were one person. She remembered the second the downbeat had sounded. As it rung through her ear, she was no longer the tall, awkward girl with the boyish figure, she was no longer Kira White, who everyone called Kay. No, she was the beautiful, graceful, and talented girl dancing up on stage with the most handsome boy in the world. They had perfected every lift, and with that Kay and Sammy had seemed to disappear. He must have felt it too. They had never danced like that before.
She turned off the water, dried off, and slipped into her pajamas. When she opened the bathroom door, Sammy was waiting in her bed, his hair still dripping water from his shower. There was a bowl of popcorn nestled in the middle of the bed, along with a two-pound bag of Twizzlers, a dozen Nerds Rope, and a 48-count pack of Ferrero Rocher. The opening credits of Dirty Dancing played in the background. He didn’t forget. Of course, he didn’t forget. It had been their tradition since their first dance competition eight years ago, and he had never forgotten before. Why should this time have been any different?
She crawled into the bed next to him as the opening scene began to play on the TV. They sat in silence for twenty minutes chewing on their various snacks. Then out of the corner of her eye she caught him staring at her. “What?” she said turning her head toward him.
“We can’t let it affect nationals.”
“Let what–” And then he kissed her. Not one of those gross long ones that made her squirm, when she saw them on TV. Just long enough to make an impression. Just long enough for her brain to finally kick in and realize that she wasn’t hallucinating. Just long enough for them to be able to return their attention back to Dirty Dancing as they held each other in their arms as if the kiss had never happened. After all, a tradition is a tradition, and there was no kissing on movie nights.