Dash Dancing Novels & Stories

29. It's not as if there's anything better to do. When a blinking light is the highlight of the entertainment... 933... 934... 935... Christ! Am I so reduced that I can reach 1,000 without even realising I was getting there? Think of something else... What? Something good... A good memory... Mitch... When I first knew you... ... She dances for me... Kicking off her heels, in her bare feet, she dances. She wears a dress in teal-green silk, which rustles and whispers as she moves. And her long hair is a cloud of red around her as she sways and shimmies to the music, her green eyes shining.

she says with a shy smile, handing me the bag. “Thank you, Dasha,” I say warmly, appreciating her sweet gesture. While we wait for Nanny Lori, Dasha pulls out her iPhone XR with a glittery pink case, flipping through a colorful app. Suddenly, she bursts into song, “Baby Shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo!” Her small feet tap against the pavement as she starts dancing, waving her arms enthusiastically. I blink in surprise, watching her carefree moves. “What’s that?” I ask, tilting my head.

She’s on the edge of her seat, worried about the match. The mascot appears on the court followed by the cheerleaders who position themselves to prepare a dance number. Halsey can see Daisy and Lydia in the center, basking in the glory. “One!” Daisy counts. “Two! Three!” The music booms through the speakers and the cheerleaders begin to dance. Everyone cheers for them. Lydia somersaults through the court and performs the perfect split to conclude the routine, enjoying the attention. Halsey’s mind isn’t into it and she’s only nervous about the match.

I didn't expect him to say that at all. "How?" My voice suddenly became small. Valentin smiled deviously and I knew immediately that I had entered a tiny pickle. "You will dance for me, my personal dancer." He said, his deep voice lingering with amusement and and bit of anticipation. "Your mate and your dancer?" I asked and scoffed shaking my head in disbelief. "It's like dancing for the devil." "Whatever you say noisemaker," Valentin chuckled deeply. His chuckle made my heart skip several beats and I almost winced in pain.

I know he was taken aback, my dance is very different from my previous dancing performance. Giselle is a tragic romance ballet. Instead of showing anger and showcasing the feeling of being betrayed by someone you love the most, I will just show pain... the pain of being left behind despite everything that I did- everything that Giselle did. I want to portray a Giselle who shows the meaning of true love. I am dancing as if I am in pain, I am dancing full of sadness, I am dancing as if I was a broken-hearted woman who lost herself in too much pain. I tiptoe and turn around. I count inside my head memorizing each step that I made.

"I'm so excited. My brother told me you're the best in Abuja. He said you used to dance in Lagos. He said you were famous. I've been so worried about the first dance—I don't want to step on my husband's feet. I'm a terrible dancer, really. Everyone says so. I have two left feet. I'm completely hopeless." Zara blinked. She had not expected this. This girl was nothing like Dante. She was sunshine and light and complete, joyful chaos. "I'm sure you're not hopeless," Zara said carefully. "Everyone has rhythm. It's just a matter of finding it." "See?" Amara turned to Dante, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching them. "I told you she'd be nice. Most people are so mean about my dancing."

he teased, earning chuckles from the others as they playfully punched each other. With a bemused shake of my head, I muttered under my breath, "I will never understand boys." Nevertheless, I complied, hastily taking my place in the formation, eager to embark on this new journey. Liam resumed his role as leader, rallying the group with a decisive call. "Okay, guys, from the top. And, Ashley, just follow anything Derek does," he instructed, his words accompanied by a sly wink from Derek, setting the tone for what promised to be an exciting adventure in the world of dance. The music began to play once more, its pulsating rhythm enveloping the room. As Liam counted down, the group sprang into ac

“Dance?” “Yes,” I say, gaining confidence. “I’m a dancer. It’s something I’m very good at.” Very, very good at, actually. But it’s not good to blow one’s own trumpet. Better to take him by surprise. He nods, considering. “Interesting. What kind of dance?” “One that helps people relieve stress,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I dress in very skimpy clothes and dance for exclusive audiences.” “Like a stripper?” “Not exactly. It may seem that way, but it’s another category of dancing,” I explain.

But the reality of her situation soon returned, and she quickly washed, determined not to linger. When she stepped out, she saw the dress laid out for her. It was a deep crimson, made of soft, flowing fabric that felt luxurious against her skin. She put it on, her fingers trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. She was dressing up for the man who had imprisoned her, and the thought made her sick.

"I’m Victoria Dean. I apologize for meeting you all under these circumstances. “But as a dancer, I want to show you that the most powerful performances don’t need elaborate embellishments. This dance has a real name. It’s called, the Unyielding Rose in the Rain.” I slipped off my coat, revealing a tattered red gown beneath it, and the white bandage wrapped around my ankle. "A rose blooming in the rain, who could ever bend its beauty?" Rising onto the tips of my toes, I leaped into the rain, the night sky embracing me like a vast, open stage.