You had been studying dance for three years since you dropped out if highschool. Your parents had supported your decision and paid for everything. You were relatively young but completely in love with dance. You went to a studio four times a week, and you spent your days practicing and practicing.

Your teacher, Liam Prince, was...a bit...terrifying. He was rude and cold but, he was a great teacher. You were one of his top students, or at least you thought so. The most validation someone could get from him was a curt nod or even a glance. Usually his eyes were glued to your feet or your arms.

Today you were practicing a waltz. It was so simple compared to other dances you mastered, but you couldn't help but mess up your feet every now and then and it was frustrating.

The dancers practiced on their own while Liam circled you all. He wore a white button up with a black suit jacket and black pants. His hair was a jet black and his eyes felt like they could kill through the glasses he wore. He snapped at a few dancers and cursed under his breath. He approached you and scanned your form. His eyes were like an extra weight added. Your stumbled a bit and fixed your footing. "You." He snapped and the music stopped. "Everyone else is dismissed." The other girls left whispering. You braced yourself for any insult he could give. Liam slid his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. He walked over to you. "Your an excellent dancer. This is a simple dance. Don't think too much about the steps." His voice was cold. He placed one hand on your waist and the other holding your hand. "And...1,2,3..."