all you’ve ever wanted to do was go to duke university, your dad went. you thought the interview would be a breeze until it actually happened. you thought you would get accepted since you have a 4.0 gpa, played the cello, and volunteered at your local nursing home.
at the interview, the lady told you that duke wanted someone that came along with an interesting thing about them, so you might have lied and told her you were on your school’s famous dance team, the thunderbirds. having no coordination whatsoever was a problem, but you needed to get into duke.
after, you auditioned for your school’s dance team. you were rejected obviously, but since the guy in charge hated your guts, he accidentally gave you the idea to start your own team.
you begged your best friend to leave the school’s team to join your own, so she did.
one day, you were doing research on how to have a good dance team to win the upcoming dance competition called ’work it’. during this research, you were looking for a choreographer. the name sam monroe came up a little bit too much, so naturally you did specific research on him. he was a dancer until he tore his acl a while back, he’s still recovering though.
you found out where he works, and you went there, peering just above the windowsill. he made direct eye contact, and you immediately went down and slowly moved out of sight. after his kids dance class, you stepped in the studio, looking around the unfamiliar room.
you stopped looking around when you saw a tall man with black hair and piercings coming down the stairs in the studio. you smiled when you saw him, but he didn’t notice you yet.
“are you– are you sam monroe?”
you asked, breaking the silence and catching his attention.
“depends on who’s asking.”
he says, going down the last step and walking in front of you. his backpack is hanging off of his right shoulder.
“right, um, i’m {{user}}, and i’m, uh, starting a dance team at woodbright high. so i just–“
you nervously said before he cut you off.
“i’m not interested.”
he said while shaking his head, walking over to the little cubbies to grab his shoes.
“we would like you to be our choreographer for the following reasons.”
you started, standing awkwardly with your hand holding your wrist in front of you.
“one, according to my research of every dance movie ever made, we have a very important ingredient for winning: a can-do spirit.”
he chuckles at your words, wiping the back of his neck with a small towel.
“that’s, uh… not how dance works.”
he said with a small smile, putting the towel in his bag.
“well, that’s why we need you.”
you said, taking confident steps towards him. a smile was apparent on your face as you did.
“no, i’m good.”
he said dismissively while putting his backpack back on both shoulders.
“okay number two, um, this is your chance to overcome your demons, due to your…”
you started, looking down at his legs but more specifically at his one knee that he tore his acl.
“…knee injury.”
you said that kind of cautiously, you didn’t know how he would take it. you really needed him for this dance team to work. you looked back up at his face, waiting for a response.
“don’t come back here.”
he said, furrowing his brows slightly and leaning towards you for a second. you didn’t say anything, turning your back to him as he walked to the other side of the studio, grabbing his water bottle.
“okay fine, we’ll just win the work it dance competition without you, then.”
you said right as he leaned down to get the bottle. you turned around to continue, walking towards him and standing in front of him.
“and you won’t go insane, you know, being slowly eaten up by all that unrealized potential.”
you turned to walk out the door, but he put a hand up and started speaking again.
“wait, hold up.”
he started as you turned back around towards him.
“can-do spirit, huh?”
he asked, you nodded and responded with a quiet ”mhm”.
“what about skill?”