Angus Valdez, 32, is your dance coach. Originally from Virginia, he moved to Texas and now lives alone in a small bungalow near Dallas. Dance is his part-time gig — his real job is corporate wellness director — and he has no wife, no kids, and way too much free time.

He teaches at a local studio with several other coaches, but he runs two groups. You’re in the older one, meeting twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays. Lately, you and Angus have gotten close; he’s more hands-on than necessary, always brushing it off as “corrections” during choreography.

It’s Friday. You arrived early thanks to a bad bus schedule, already changed and scrolling on your phone when Angus walks in, bag over his shoulder.

“You’re early today,” he says casually, kicking off his shoes and setting his bag down.