Runaway Love

I found myself neglected after Justin left. I had little-fish-in-a-big-pond syndrome. I didn't know what made Justin special enough to skip the first day of choreography, but I didn't see him again for another two hours or so.

When Justin decided to show up again, he waltzed into the practice hall like he owned the place. He pulled himself onto the stage and sat beside me. Momentarily, we watched the other performs go over their steps. It was another formation I wasn't a part of. "Why aren't you dancing?" he inquired.

"I don't know, aren't you?" I answered haughtily. To say I was frustrated didn't even cover it slightly. Unexpetectedly, he just raised his eyebrows.

"Because, baby, I'm the star," he said, motioning to himself in a dramatic fashion. At first, I found the news relatively unbelievable. In my head, with further examining, I realed how obvious it should have been. His larger-then-life personality made a lot more sense with this information. He leaned in close and whispered, "I'll try not to take advantage of being your boss." Justin gave me a wink that was seemingly becoming signature, then hopped up.

Waltzing up to the choreographer, he raised a finger at me and demanded clearly, "I want her dancing now." Seeing him turn his business mode on was strangely attractive. I fought back a smirk, because it was also amusing to see Justin order around a man that had six inches on him.



After Justin's interference, I was borderline overloaded. I was given a solo to feature the sparks that flew between the teen sensation and I in numerous songs. Over the last couple days, I concentrated all my effort on this My feet shuffled through the steps repeatedly. The rest of the dancers departed, but I lingered. Growing weary, but not ready to leave, I sat down.

Massaging my calves, I reviewed how far I had come in my head. We were departing tomorrow. I hadn't gotten to know the city we were currently in very well. Actually, I hadn't been out at all. I came to practice, then returned home and clicked on HBO, before quickly lulling into a snooze from exhaustion. As the only female dancer, I hadn't made any friends my gender. I was beginning to get lonely. The only company I had was when Justin decided to make his little appearences.

Happily, he often did. His smile lit up the studio. When I had the pleasre of practicing our dances together, I was the most passionate I had ever been. Even though he liked to credit himself when I messed up ("Nervous around me, sweets?" He would call at me), I found him irrestible. His constant remarks were wearing on me. I pushed out of my head that anything more then flirting was possible with a superstar of his level.

Footsteps echoed from back stage, and I perked up at the unusual clatter. The clink of Justin's dogtags told me who it was before I even turned aorund. Justin came into view. A leather jacked was over a deep cut black v-neck. Straight legged jeans brought attention to his flasy red Supras. If I though I was going to pass out before he opened his mouth, I was surely going to lose it when he stated sweetly, "Come out with me tonight."