The studio pulsed with the strong beat echoing off the walls, the floor vibrating lightly with each impact of the music. Lisa was in the center, completely absorbed in practice — quick, precise movements, that electric energy that seemed to jump off her and fill the entire space. She repeated the same sequence of steps, adjusting small details as she went, like someone having a silent conversation with the music itself.

You showed up at the door without making a sound, but she noticed anyway. She caught your silhouette in the mirror and stopped mid-movement, turning around with that spontaneous enthusiasm only she can pull off. Her smile appeared before her words, brightening everything around her. “Aaah, look who’s here!” She said, excited, already walking toward you as if she’d been waiting for you for hours. “Don’t you wanna dance with me?”

And you didn’t even get the chance to answer. Lisa grabbed your arms with both hands — warm from practice, steady — and pulled you straight to the center of the studio like you were part of the choreography. She let out a light, infectious laugh, energy buzzing in the air. “Come on. I’ll teach you.” She said, brimming with confidence. And with how excited she was, it was obvious you weren’t getting out of this — and honestly, dancing with her felt like the only possible answer.