Sequel: I Won't Give Up ›
A Blend of Fear & Passion
Greg
Now that a few people actually knew of our relationship, I seemed to be more at ease, but that didn't stop me from getting in their faces and working them like never before. When I wasn't at the school teaching, I was at home teaching Dawson, as well as Wil, Jackson, and Fiona. They thought it was a one-up with the singing, in case the dancing didn't get them into Broadway.
One night, after the lessons, the gang and I were upstairs watching movies, the partners together. I looked at Fiona and saw that uncomfortable look in her eyes. I could tell she felt a bit out of place due to the fact she was the only one not in a relationship. Excusing myself from the room, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my cell. Calling Tony, the other dance instructor in Detroit, I held the phone to my ear waiting for him to pick up.
"Greg? What's up man?" he asked, sounding a little to perky. I smiled a bit before responding.
"Nothing much, Tony. Hey, did Brandon Matley ever finish his schooling? I knew he was one of those few students who could have finished school earlier than a normal student," I said, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah, about three weeks ago. Why?" he asked, sounding nothing but curious.
"The main reason I can't tell you, but I need you to send him out to New York," I said, looking into the room and seeing Fiona and Dawson whispering and laughing quietly about something. It was nice they were able to bond.
"He flew out to NYC last week, said he was going to apply for Juilliard next week. Not this week, next week. So be on the look out for him. He said -- and these are his exact words -- I'm taking my mad skills to the next level. So those pansies best be watching their backs." I laughed and shook my head.
"That's Brandon for you. I'll talk to you later, Tony. Thanks for the heads up," I said, hanging up my phone. Before setting it down, I stared at it, thinking about all the good times I've had in Michigan thanks to my failure over a decade ago.
Time Elapse
Over the next week, my drills and lessons got harder. I've also noticed as of late that Dawson has been very emotional lately, and I couldn't figure out why. Every jab I took at him, whether it was in class or just out of fun, he'd either get angry, or run out in tears.
Today, he decided to sit out, and when I looked over at him, he seemed to be very ill-struck. Not in the sense of vomiting, but in the sense he got news that he was just so shocked to comprehend. Walking over to him, I sat down on the floor in front of him, grabbing his left leg and massaging his calf. "Something wrong, Dawson?" I asked, looking up at him.
"No, not at all," he said, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. I knew pressing the subject would only make matters worse, so I nodded and continued massaging his calf. I looked at his face and studied him for a long moment, and as if someone had just broke his heart, he started crying. He threw himself at me and sobbed into my neck, his arms wrapping around me.
I looked up at Fiona, who mouthed, 'What's wrong?'
I shrugged as my arms wound around Dawson before mouthing, 'I don't know. He's been like this for a while now.
I was beginning to worry a lot, and I really wish I knew what was going on with him. Little did I know, this was going to affect both of us in a very, very big way. Something that neither of us ever thought was possible.
One night, after the lessons, the gang and I were upstairs watching movies, the partners together. I looked at Fiona and saw that uncomfortable look in her eyes. I could tell she felt a bit out of place due to the fact she was the only one not in a relationship. Excusing myself from the room, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my cell. Calling Tony, the other dance instructor in Detroit, I held the phone to my ear waiting for him to pick up.
"Greg? What's up man?" he asked, sounding a little to perky. I smiled a bit before responding.
"Nothing much, Tony. Hey, did Brandon Matley ever finish his schooling? I knew he was one of those few students who could have finished school earlier than a normal student," I said, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah, about three weeks ago. Why?" he asked, sounding nothing but curious.
"The main reason I can't tell you, but I need you to send him out to New York," I said, looking into the room and seeing Fiona and Dawson whispering and laughing quietly about something. It was nice they were able to bond.
"He flew out to NYC last week, said he was going to apply for Juilliard next week. Not this week, next week. So be on the look out for him. He said -- and these are his exact words -- I'm taking my mad skills to the next level. So those pansies best be watching their backs." I laughed and shook my head.
"That's Brandon for you. I'll talk to you later, Tony. Thanks for the heads up," I said, hanging up my phone. Before setting it down, I stared at it, thinking about all the good times I've had in Michigan thanks to my failure over a decade ago.
Time Elapse
Over the next week, my drills and lessons got harder. I've also noticed as of late that Dawson has been very emotional lately, and I couldn't figure out why. Every jab I took at him, whether it was in class or just out of fun, he'd either get angry, or run out in tears.
Today, he decided to sit out, and when I looked over at him, he seemed to be very ill-struck. Not in the sense of vomiting, but in the sense he got news that he was just so shocked to comprehend. Walking over to him, I sat down on the floor in front of him, grabbing his left leg and massaging his calf. "Something wrong, Dawson?" I asked, looking up at him.
"No, not at all," he said, his voice a few octaves higher than usual. I knew pressing the subject would only make matters worse, so I nodded and continued massaging his calf. I looked at his face and studied him for a long moment, and as if someone had just broke his heart, he started crying. He threw himself at me and sobbed into my neck, his arms wrapping around me.
I looked up at Fiona, who mouthed, 'What's wrong?'
I shrugged as my arms wound around Dawson before mouthing, 'I don't know. He's been like this for a while now.
I was beginning to worry a lot, and I really wish I knew what was going on with him. Little did I know, this was going to affect both of us in a very, very big way. Something that neither of us ever thought was possible.