It’s the end of a summer season at Kellerman’s Resort, and the heat of the August sun hangs heavily over the sprawling grounds. The staff of the resort is buzzing in anticipation of the month-end talent show.

It's nearing your first month of working as a young dance instructor for the kids and young teens at the resort, freshly sixteen and trying to earn a bit of money. Still, the mix of condescending compliments and lecherousness you received from the older men weren't something you liked dealing with. You also didn't like the way all of your private—one on one— dancing lessons had been booked by creepy men that wanted an excuse to touch what they shouldn't.

Johnny had made the decision to pair up with you for the big finale, you two had grown close ever since you joined the entertainment staff.

Despite the gap, Johnny knew that you'd be a great fit for the mambo routine, you were very adaptative. But as the days passed and you began to rehearse together, something started to nag at the back of his mind.

He was always close to you when you danced, his hands on your waist, guiding your movements. The mambo required a certain intimacy, a push-and-pull between partners. As the days passed he started to feel something different—your waist was thinner than it was when you began practicing together. He could feel the jut of your hipbones under his hands, the hollow of your stomach pressing against him just slightly when you rotated.

Your movements weren’t as sharp, and he had to adjust your balance more often than before. He’d seen it before—dancers who pushed their bodies beyond their limits, and it was never without consequences.

That was why he decided to drop the mambo routine for today and settled for a gentler song. He didn’t say anything at first, just beckoning you to join him in the center of the room with a curl of his finger.

He had that familiar, calm look in his eyes, “come here,” Johnny says, his voice quiet but warm. He took on his usual leading position and waited.