Pulse of Purpose

Bridge

The man exclaims: "This was a mess! If you cannot hold up to our standards, I am afraid I will have to kick you out of here."

I froze. The thought of going back onto the street was dizzying. Losing what I got after already such a short amount of time.

"I had faith in your capabilities once I saw your first performance. It seems though you will need a lot more guidance than I initially expected," he continued, his voice passionate but dismissive. It seemed as if the man viewed me as just another failed experiment of his.

"I will be training you for the following months and if you fail to perform on the next dance in 6 days, then it seems my faith was misplaced and you will suffer according consequences."

I could only nod, my face moving on its own, showing its clear will to survive, no matter my thoughts or excuses. Cause that is all that my thoughts seem to be at this moment.

"Your training starts tomorrow at 6am at the dance studio. You should rest," he directs me to my bedroom, before leaving.

I enter the unsurprisingly surprisingly huge room, equipped with a king-size bed and a plethora of furniture and decorations. But its grand scale only amplifies the terror of losing it all. As I lay down in bed, I notice a book at the nightstand next to me titled "History of the Unknown Entities" In an effort to calm myself down I flip through it.

The book is about how the modern dance-performance and rating systems came to be as well as listing significant performers. Suddenly a realization hits me: The man from before is Dominique Russo. He who will be teaching me tomorrow has years of experience, occasionally even reaching scores as high as 480 with his choreographies. Though his ratings have declined in recent years.

My heart is beating faster and I do not no if it is due to the excitement of being taught by such a veteran or the fear of his harsh judgment on my next dance. I guess the best I can do for now is take as much knowledge from his training as possible and give it my all in 6 days. I would just wish that not as much was at stake for me.

I set my alarm for the next morning, ready to fall asleep, but every time I am about to enter dreamland the thought of failure pokes me awake like a needle.

Beep Beep Beep

I jump awake, every inch of my body craving to fall back into bed. I turn the alarm of and m body almost automatically lays down again, but I stop it. Today is my chance to learn from an expert after all. I beat on fighting against my body, trying to pull me back into the bed. The fight ends with me reaching the shower and washing away my weariness, rendering me the clear victor.

The shower is almost the size of a full room itself. It is equipped with a variety of buttons and configurations all doing different things, but there is no time for that. Ok, maybe there is time for one. I opt for a button labeled as "Fog Shower" which activates nozzles from the ceiling that spray water in the shower creating a refreshing mist. After finishing I hurry to the dining room.

Along the way I encounter some staff, who following my offer happily join me for the incredible breakfast the chef prepared. Back in the bedroom I get dressed for training, of course with my red scarf and then head towards the dance studio, which I reach with some wrong turns and a little help from the staff. At 6:06am I enter.

Mr. Russo looks up from his watch and greets me: "Hello. I hope you rested well. To commence our training, I will show you breathing techniques you can use before and during your dances."

"Ok," I nod in anticipation.

"Beforehand, you should remove your scarf for the duration of practice. It will only hinder you."