- DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT DANCING.

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sorry for the late update everybody but i hope you like this filler chapter!


JOES POV:
Pens should fiddle between historians fingers, blank pages should forecast the black ink, for this week could go down in the books as the most stressful, yet eventful, week of my lifetime - and we were only a few hours in. Quickstep had been decided in our favour, and not one term in the entirety of a dictionary could portray the elation that moment brung. It had been, since the very beginning, the one I had been hoping to never hear slip off Dianne's tongue prior to this milestone point, internally appealing to all above for it to be ours to receive. Endless weeks situated in a clauditorium, shoving all others out of the way to not allow this rare opportunity of a front row seat to pass, admiring the professionals and male celebs scurrying feet along the dance floor, their arms adopting the aching ballroom hold while making it all look so effortless. Instantly, this dance lured me into all of its desirable aspects - the boys classical attire of coat and tails, the girls choice of elegant ballgowns creating wave effects with each direction change, the accompanying tracks that deliver that vintage 50s feel. However, not all of this was its typical fairytale, it involved a lot of patience with time and practise to understand these visibly simple yet technical steps.

The usual Monday progression at the midday point would consist of the initial choreography run-throughs completed, just leaving the task of retaining the knowledge in preparation for Saturday. This specific system worked exact to the studiousness nature we possessed, in exception to this week where all feels shifted two steps backwards. One attempt after another a small part would sock a punch to knock us off our high pedestals, down to the low points of giving up crossing your mind. On one occasion, I would be at fault in the example of rushing into a hold with no further consideration to the correct footing, my partners balance lost, sending her tumbling into a heap on the floorboards. On a rare chance, the spinner would point to Dianne in the example of her wrong arm raised to slam against the skin of my cheeks. These struggles directly related to the difficulty this technical dance arose, but inside only I understand the distant relation that was occurring. The insane pressures throughout to reach this point were heavy enough on the mind, but now we have made it, nothing is stopping. There is always that lingering reminder that no matter what I do, there is a necessary requirement of making people proud - Dianne, my fans and even myself included in the list. Besides this, primarily it was my Nan, who's legacy lives in the Tower Ballroom and I'm the lucky reciprocant to carry on the tradition.

"Right..", Dianne's slightly deafening exclaimation intercepted into the self-pity wallowing occurring in my head, preventing a near plunge down a rabbit hole of extreme conclusions. The click-clacking of her dance shoes heel against the hardwood disturbed our momentary separation silence, a precaution to relieve the impending stress beginning to overtake all rationality. "Let's just finish the routine okay?", I bobbed my head in response to the assertiveness proclaimed, immediately arising onto both feet and jogging the short distance into the middle of the floor. Her once relaxed facial features dropped into a sag before the heat rose to high levels, her knitted eyebrows and forehead linings a physical display of the bubbling rage to the white markings apparent on my pathway. "Sorry Di..", was all able to flow out of my dried-up mouth in the shame, mentally equipping myself for a storm out in response, however to my shock all remained collected within the vacinty. With a light shake of the head, almost brushing off my actions, her hands took hold of my own to guide my body through the choreography at a much slower pace. Despite all her attempts at assistance, it was crystal clear - the Quickstep is not fit for Joe Sugg.

"Remember, this is the only time we have to do this, so let's make it our best." As the music deepened into a lower tempo, the surrounding environments atmosphere adjusted itself; less embodying the detached state of our relationship, but more the romantic moments we could only wish to return to. Her free hand cupped my chin, manouvering my heads position upwards before off to the left while my hand was guided along the resting cup of her shoulder blade. Once our bodies had been molded, her arms lengthened out to sneak around the nape of my neck, permitting myself to revel in the warmth of touch pressed up against my own. The close proximity considered, it would have natural to lock eyes in a been only natural to lock our eyes in a heartfelt gaping, resembling the iconic movie scenes of the main characters inevitable kiss.

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