Waltz

part one

 The sounds of the studio echo throughout the building the moment Mason steps inside the doors. Gripping his dance bag a little tighter in his hand the boy kindly smiles at the woman seated at the desk in the lobby - her strawberry blonde hair is pulled into a tight knot that she pulls down to fix the pieces that have shaken loose throughout the day - she vocalizes a quiet hello before continuing to type away at her computer; the sound of her false nails clacking against the keys is pleasing to the boy's ears. Hurrying through the halls Mason can hear the sounds of the studio growing louder, since he was six years old he has been walking through these corridors nearly every day, at this point he could get to the practice area in his sleep. Ten years, Mason thinks, can't believe it's been that long.

Pushing through the doors at the end of a long hall Mason finds himself once again in the male's changing room - this room runs parallel to the studio area and instantly eradicates any ounce of sleepiness that is coursing through his veins. This week at school has been a flurry of exams, study halls and stress but as soon as he walks through those doors all of that will be long forgotten, melted away.

Quickly untying the laces on his sneakers and slipping them off his feet the boy shuffles out of his sweatpants that he had worn all day, changing into the casual practice clothes he's been wearing for months. With all the time dedicated to dancing Mason has never yet had the chance at a first job, therefore, saving money for things like more clothes can take months of earning allowance when he can spare the time to complete his chores. Mason's parents understand the importance of ballroom dancing and for the most part they pay for everything he needs - trousers, dress shirts, suspenders, new shoes every few months, dance bags, lessons etc. - but they also believe in the importance of responsibility, of working hard to earn his own money. Thankfully they've never pushed the job issue too harshly as they know it would be near impossible to keep up his National Champion title while slinging burgers at some fast food restaurant for ungrateful teenagers. And so he wears his hard earned practice outfit with a smile. Sitting down on a bench Mason digs through his duffle bag to find his ballroom shoes, slipping them onto his feet and taking the time to carefully lace them the correct way. His shoes are mostly solid black with a strip of white that runs from the side of his ankle to bottom of the laces, the raised heel clicks against the floor as he stands and walks his bag over to a locker.

After depositing all his belongings - including his cell phone, set to vibrate - Mason begins the short journey to the ballroom. The large set of double doors that lead to the studio are glass and framed with beautiful, light colored hardwood; he can see the dancers beginning practice with their preset stretching exercises as he approaches. Pushing through the doors the boy greets his fellow classmates and instructor, Mr. Burkley, before lessons officially begin the teenagers chat and laugh while helping one another when needed with their stretching exercises. The time flies by in what seems like only an instant, before he knows it Mason has his arms positioned and ready to practice his solo Waltz. The joyous sound of the tapping shoes against the hardwood flooring all around him instantly fills him with a euphoric, rushing feeling of joy; like he's finally home after a long day.

Last year Mason and his partner, Anna, were titled National Champions after months upon months of hard work. The moment their team number was called is one Mason knows he'll never forget, the smile on his face was so wide it had his cheeks aching; he was crying a lot more than he'd like to admit as well. It was nearly impossible not to take off in a sprint to the first place podium. His arm linked with Anna's, Mason stole sharp inhales of breath so quick that his pounding heart started to ache in his chest. After what seemed like an eternity the couple reached their spot on the podium and stood proud, backs straight and chests puffed out. The light glinted off Anna's yellow sequined dress in a way that reflected onto her face, making her glow more than she already was. Swiping the back of his hand across each cheek in an attempt to stop the endlessly flowing tears Mason couldn't help but laugh in disbelief, he and Anna had been partners for three years and strived to get here from the beginning of their partnership and they had done it. After all the hours spent in the studio they could stand proud knowing that in that moment, they were the best ballroom dancers the world had to see. Using his fingers to comb the brunette hair away from his watery eyes he couldn't help himself any longer, leaning forward he wrapped Anna in a tight embrace, whispering something into her ear he never thought he'd get to say, "We're National Champions!"