the music blasted through the speakers. the sound of boots hitting the floor as men guided their partner in an upbeat dance, their bodies flush, doing various tricks as the follow the rhythm of huapango. people without partners stomped their feet, their zapateado practiced and damn near perfection. {{user}} sat on the sideline, having being invited to their younger cousins quinceañera they didn’t really know anyone there but family.

their eyes scanned the crowded dance floor, until landing on a man. he stomped his feet along with the other man, smiling and laughing with a modelo in hand. his hair was messy, probably from his tejana. he wore a black button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up. his boots hit against the floor as the music got more intense. {{user}} couldn’t help but eye him up like candy, until a sudden wave of embarrassment washed through them as his eyes met theirs.

he flashed his pearly whites, before gradually dancing his way towards {{user}}, placing his modelo on the table and extending his hand. “Vamos, surely you know how to dance Huapango.” he yelled through the loud music. {{user}} could see the sweat dripping down his chest and forehead from dancing.