i bet you look good on the dancefloor

Chapter 5: of teamwork & tresspassing

The evening - along with dance camp reviews - comes far too soon.

Lance barely manages to sneak in some warm up routines, stomach twisting with anxiety all the while. This is it - his great comeback, his chance to prove himself in Keith's eyes at least.

However, he didn't expect there to be more than three judges, two of them obviously being Shiro and Allura.

Lance bites at the dry skin around his fingernails as he stares at the professional-looking judges - two women he's never seen before, both seemingly in their forties, dressed in posh blazers and dark pencil skirts.

"I didn't think it'd be so serious," he mutters around his thumb and Pidge smacks the hand away. A good thing to happen, usually Lance tends to make his fingertips bleed first and only then stops his ministrations.

"You're at a dance camp located at the most extravagant dance school in the region. I don't know what you were expecting." Pidge shrugs and points out the rest of the street dance kids discreetly fixing their appearances, obviously floored by the intimidating ladies as well. Lance feels as though he's back at high school, ready to take the math test of a lifetime. Those ladies sure fit the 'strict teacher' image.

"Besides," they continue. "Everyone's just as uneasy. I personally think that you're going to do fine. This isn't your first rodeo," right as Pidge says it, Lance's phone buzzes with a new chat notification, Hunk's cheerful 'wish I was there, man, do your best!!!:)))' doing nothing to calm his frayed nerves.

Lance barely restrains himself from blowing a raspberry. "Yeah, but none of them were so..." He waves a hand in the general direction of Shiro and Allura who are busy entertaining the judges, both of them dressed as though they're ready for a grand ball. Allura's lilac dress nearly glows in the faded lights of the huge chandelier. "So fancy and high-class! It's like they're about to force me to freestyle to the hottest Tchaikovsky jams. I mean, sure, maybe Keith can do stuff like that with his complicated twirl-obsession and tip-toe torture experience, but I - "

"Lance, you're babbling."

"I am not babbling!" Lance babbles nervously, voice cracking and high-pitched. "I am most definitely not babbling, and never was, where'd you get that idea – "

What did his Pa say about situations like these? Breathe in and exhale for eight seconds? Four? How many? God, he doesn't know –

They stick around and check out the ballet kids' performances, only truly paying attention once it's Em's turn to shine. She does wonderfully and receives heated clapping from her fellow peers, the loudest being from the small group of girls she had befriended over the span of two days. Allura flashes her a bright smile when she bows and walks off the stage to rejoin her friends, undoing her tight bun immediately.

When it's time for the street dance competitions to start, Pidge nearly has to drag an unwilling Lance to the second floor western hall. Lance wants to claw at the walls and Pidge has to forcefully tug him away from every column he manages to latch onto, whining about quitting and going home all the while.

This whole thing was a huge mistake. He'd much rather be home right now - eating Ma's cooking and crying himself to sleep while desperately trying to math, burying himself under multiple notebooks in order to absorb at least some of their knowledge.

"Riling up Keith is one thing, Pidge, this is pretty damn big," Lance winces when they finally reach the huge double doors, and in one last attempt to save himself, the brunet desperately tries to latch onto the door frame. Some teens pass them by, shooting pitying looks at the tall boy. "I'm not exactly friends with high expectations!"