THE SECRETS WE KEEP.

- JUST NOT READY FOR THIS (PART 3).

hey everybody, i'm guessing this a little bit of a shock to have an update! but i basically pulled an all-nighter and rewrote this whole chapter, i will probably go have a sleep now but hopefully you all enjoy it and appreciate the hard work gone into it! stay safe🤍

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JOES POV:
My pants of exhaustion filled the uncomfortable silence between us, the icy refreshing liquid sliding down my dry throat, the chill soothing my aching joints that had been hit by the effect of these brutal final few hours of training. "I-I need a minute Joe.. please" With that departing line, she stormed through those huge double doors, back into the outside world for peace from my continuous failures. Throughout the whole routine Dianne's facial expressions were blank as a piece of paper, it was near impossible to read her. But the walk away full of shame, head in hands, and the storming from me, just proved that her patience had now run thin and was hanging on by a single thread.

By a Wednesday the expectation would typically be that I have grasped the choreography by now, especially since it was not the first time attempting it, it should just be a revision over what we already know. The only explanation I could master up for my struggles was Dianne's extra lenient behaviour on me. This caring side of her character was something to be eternally grateful for, though in my case, my best results come when she plunges me in the deep end head first, not allowing me the time to dip my toes in one at a time. These past couple days I have been on a rollercoaster of a high, including this morning with the complete and utter bliss it brought, feeling like nothing could take me off this enjoyable ride. However this belief was truly wrong, for what I did not know was that, waiting backstage for me was the Paso Doble, geering up to pounce the moment we stepped through the training room doors.

Standing here in the silence I had brought amongst myself, this empty room full of the memories of my lack of success, I could physically feel the irritation building up at this dances difficulty and how much of a hard toll it had taken on my level of concentration, or should I say lack there of. However these crucial few minutes, that would typically be spent browsing through my Instagram feed trying to keep caught up with my friends busy schedules, I was determined to productively use to improve not only my frame but my stance.
But the moment I faced my reflection, the mirror shot back an image that was unexpected. My shoulders were instinctively slouched, leading my head to hung low to my feet. This paralleled representation of a scrawny twig-legged roof thatcher was the complete opposite of this strong matador that I was supposed to be portraying. Repeatedly my mind resumed its replay of the disappointed look on Dianne's face, a direct shot to my heart seeing the frustration and anger hidden behind her eyes. And the worst part? Now I could understand this envy.

During those few moments of complete insecurity, I hadn't even noticed Dianne make her reappearance, not a word spoken between us, just the blasting of vocal notes throughout the room, making me jump out of my skin. These sounds brought out the dancer side to myself, a side that prior to this competition nobody would have ever known it's existence. That professional did not waste another second to stand in their starting position, watching Dianne swish the imaginary skirt along behind her while she circled my awkward stance, ahead of her latching onto my frame. It truly felt that this break from the training room had brought back a sense of calm to Dianne, for now as mistake after mistake passed us by, her physical display of anger was now kept under control. In all honestly this run could have been our best one yet, but all I could see when my eyes brushed past our interlocked figures in the mirror was how this dreadful Paso highlighted each aspect of my outer appearance I was growing to despise.
With my mind preoccupied with more self-destruct, my right arm deviated from the choreography without command, this mistake being the one to break down her previous tranquil approach. Knowing my mistake almost immediately, I took many steps back from her, letting out a loud scream of frustration into my palms.