To Our Own Beat (Urban)

The Best Feeling on Earth

One Week Later

Ricky

                Today is the big day and I couldn’t be more nervous. I’m so tempted to just pull Reagan to the side right now and propose to her, forget about the dance proposal. But after all that hard work her dance class and students from my studio put in, I couldn’t possibly switch up the format now. Reagan was super nervous about performing in front of the famous choreographers but in my eyes she had nothing to worry. She was the best dancers I know and I’m not saying that because she’s my baby.

                As I sat with Rae’s family in the audience about thirty minutes before the program began, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I checked the caller ID and to my surprise I saw that it was Reagan calling.

“Wassup, babe?” I answered.

“Ewww I’m not your babe, this is Jewel.” Her friend spoke.

“My bad. Wassup, why are you calling me from Rae’s phone?” I asked her.

“I need you to come back stage right now. Reagan is in the midst of a panic attack.” She informed me.

“I’m coming right now.” I said as I hopped out my seat and ran out the side door and down the hallway and to the backstage. Reagan never really had a problem like this before so it really worried me. She was always calm, cool and collected before a performance.

                When I finally got to where Reagan was, I saw her sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying to control her breathing. I calmly walked over to her because I didn’t want to rile her up more than she already was. I squatted down next to her and looked at her.  When she finally recognized that it was me she looked relieved and crawled into my lap.

“What’s wrong baby?” I asked her softly.

“I’m nervous.” She said through her tears, her body shaking. Her words were choppy.

“Why are you nervous?” I asked her. She shrugged her shoulders.

                The only reason she was nervous was because of the choreographers that were out there. It included Anthony Burrell, Robin Antin and Laurieann Gibson. Anthony Burrell was one choreographer that she idolized.

“Look at me, Reagan.” I told her. She raised her head and looked at me. “If you want to be noticed by one of those choreographers out there then you need to go out there and kill it. Go out there and put your all into every leap, toe point and foot flex. You can do it baby. I know you can. Dance like it’s only me and you and the room.  Okay?” I encouraged her.

“Okay.” She nodded her head in response. I wiped the stray tears that were still on her face before I pecked her lips. Once she stood up, she pulled me in for a tight hug.

“One more kiss for good luck.” She said with a small smile before pulling face down so our lips could meet.

“I love you, baby. You’re gonna do just fine.” I told her.

“Thanks. I love you too.” She said with a bright smile before I heard her dance instructor call her for line up. She sprinted off to where she was supposed to be as I made my way to my seat.

                            When I settled back into my seat, my nerves started to kick in. Each passing performance placed me closer and closer to the performance that would help me seal the deal with the woman that I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.

                            Reagan did really well in her group performance and slayed her solo. She was graceful when she needed to be and awkward in her movements when the time called for it. She locked eyes with me throughout the whole performance and she killed it. I couldn’t help but give her a standing ovation. I was proud of my baby.

                            After her solo, my plan went into action. I rushed back stage as Reagan’s dance instructor, Ms. Janice, guided Reagan toward the audience, as if she were taking her to meet the choreographers. After getting Reagan settled, she ran back on the stage to announce us.

“Now we have a special performance from the dance class. No explanation is needed. It’s sure to explain itself.” She said with a smile. As I peeked from behind the curtains I could see that Reagan was a little pouty because she wasn’t included in the performance.

                           (Proposal in MM) As soon as the DJ hit play Bruno Mars’ Marry You blared through the speakers and the first set of dancers ran out and started the performance. When I made my way on stage and started dancing, I locked eyes with Reagan and her face lit up with amazement and confusion. The dance was filled with funny bits that all led up to two people from the dance crew running into the audience to bring Reagan on stage. They danced in a circle around her and when they pulled away I ran into view. I motioned for her to turn around to see the dancers wielding signs that asked the question, “Will you marry me?” When she turned back around to face me, I was down on one knee.

                            “Will you marry me, baby?” I asked her, my heart racing a mile a minute.

                            “Of course, Schmoopie!!!” she replied with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.

                            I slipped the ring on her finger and stood up. Reagan jumped on me before I could properly regain my balance and we fell flat, together. We couldn’t help but laugh.

                            “I love you so much, Schmoopie!” she said as she peppered my face with kisses.

                            “I love you too, baby.” I said with a chuckle, as everyone in the audience cheered, whistled and clapped. It was the best feeling on earth.

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Just a little update before the drama begins;-)

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