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                                                                                       3 months later...


"TJ, I'm just going to fail dance, give up," Cyrus sighed exasperated, he had about as much coordination as a pair of socks in a washing machine. 

TJ knew the one and only way to get Cyrus to let loose and dance. It was embarrassing, but it had always worked when they were younger. He loaded up the song on his phone and pressed the play button.

'Get your sparkle on' blasted through his vast room, and he began jumping up and down, fists flying into the air. Cyrus looked at the broad, tall stereotypical jock energetically dancing to a Barbie song and having the time of his life. So after a hysterical fit of laughter, he joined his closest companion.

They spent that evening dancing to the "Shrek" soundtrack, Disney classics and of course: more Barbie (although they'd never admit it to another living soul). Cyrus felt weightless, every word he said to others felt carefully measured and calculated but with TJ, he could do the sprinkler to the Barbie soundtrack in his dinosaur pyjama bottoms with no judgement. 

Later that night, they realised that they had unfinished assignments due for the next day and pulled an all-nighter writing history essays in identical scrawly penmanship with disjointed sentences, they'd fix it in the morning, they reasoned.




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