36 Questions: A Joanne Fanfiction

Question Eighteen:

What is your most terrible memory?

The Paso was still proving a struggle for the pair, it was Wednesday and they were still having a wobble. "I can't do it Di. I'm not manly enough!" He protested, after she had yet again, told him off for his posture. He was really struggling to feel as powerful as he needed to demonstrate and was blaming this on his smaller frame. As much as he knew it would get him nowhere, he couldn't help but compare himself to the other male dancers in the competition. Ranj's Paso was brilliant, and Charles just had the body for it. To be frank, Joe felt more like a child in the dance than the powerful matador he was supposed to be.

She sighed, exasperated. How many times would she have to tell him that he was strong enough for him to actually believe her? "Joe that's it."

He turned to her, alarmed. "What do you mean that's it? Are you giving up?"

She didn't smile, and instead turned him towards the mirror on the wall in front of them. "You're not getting this dance right because you can't do the moves, it's something else. It's not that you're not strong enough, it's that you don't believe that you're strong enough." She paused, taking in his expression, "am I right?"

He sighed in resignation. "You're right."

"Thank you. Right, we're not running this dance until you tell me what's up," she said, still looking at him through the mirror.

He refused to meet her eyes. "I don't feel like I'm the sort of person that the Paso Doble is suited for, look at me for goodness sake."

"I am looking at you. What am I supposed to be seeing that means you can't do this?" she asked innocently, slightly confused.

He became more agitated, raising his voice slightly. "Look at me. I've got the body of a twelve year old boy. No matter how hard I work I won't get the same body as Charles and I'm still so small, how am I supposed to command power when my legs are so thin? How can you expect me to take the lead role in this dance when I feel so small? You need to be an actual man to do this Dianne, not someone who looks like they've not even finished puberty. You deserve better than this." He said, running a hand through his too-long hair in frustration.

She took a step backwards in shock. She had known that Joe wasn't feeling as manly as he needed to, but she had no idea of the extent of his insecurities until now. She took a second to assess the situation. "Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror." She asked him softly, wanting to get to the root of the problem, rather than simply skim over it.

He took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking to his feet. Dianne had to strain in order to hear him but she didn't dare to ask him to speak any louder, having sensed that he was struggling to admit what he was saying. "I see a 27 year old that looks like he's not finished sixth form. I see out of proportionate body parts, an awkwardly long neck, spindly legs that look like that they could snap at any minute. I see hair that's too long, but I haven't cut it yet because I have no idea what to do with it. I see a guy dressed in clothes that are too big for him, who is clearly exhausted. I definitely don't see someone ready to be a matador for Saturday night in my reflection if that's what you're getting at." He finished, putting his head in his hands.

Quickly, she took him into her arms, letting him fall into them, and let go, letting all of his frustration out. After a couple minutes, he had appeared to calm down, so she gently took his hand in hers, and led him to face himself in the mirror once more. He wiped his face roughly, staring at his reflection in shame.

"Can I tell you what I see?" she asked gently, speaking softly.

"Alright." He said gruffly, his eyes blotchy.