A/N: I'm not sure what to call this. Angst? Drama? Emotions? idk...words.
He looked at himself in the large wall mirror. He had been practicing this dance for the past hour, giving his all into each move. This dance had to be perfect. He was presenting along with four others a dance routine for his weekend class. He had to get the dance right by tomorrow. He just had to.
You can see the sheen of sweat on his skin from working so hard. But, something was wrong. He kept falling behind the beat. He forgot easy steps. He started tripping over his feet. He has to constantly start over because he kept messing up. It was frustrating, to say the least.
Jeff kept re-doing his pirouettes, determined to do a set without falling over or losing his balance. He knew he should be taking a break, but he had to get it right before he could. That's how stubborn he was. He wouldn't give up. He just needed to do one simple turn…
Once again, Jeff rose up onto the ball of his foot and spun, but he felt himself lose his balance and tilt. He panicked, falling over onto his knees. Angered by his failure, he pounded his fist onto the floor. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get this right? He sat back onto the floor and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He felt like crying, but he couldn't. He was too angry to do anything.
He heard a knock on the doorframe, and turned to see a certain dark-haired boy standing in the doorway.
"Hey," he called.
"How long were you standing there?" Jeff asked.
"Long enough to see you get frustrated with yourself," Nick took a few steps into the room, "Jeff, it's really, really late. What are you still doing here?"
"I have to get the dance moves perfected," Jeff stood up slowly, "They have to be right by tomorrow."
Nick sighed, "Jeff, I saw you do this routine a million times. Your moves are fine-"
"No, no they're not," Jeff shook his hands, prepping himself to dance again, "They're terrible, and they need to be fixed." He started to dance again, but began to stumble and trip over himself. Nick ran over and caught him, holding him up by his shoulders.
"Jeff, you're exhausted," Nick pointed out, "You've been running on no sleep because you were up studying last night. You had three tests today, and we had a very long Warbler rehearsal today. You should be ready to pass out by now."
"I can't, I have to get these moves right." Jeff tried to push his best friend off of him, but no such luck. Nick turned him around and guided him towards the door.
"Come on, we're going home," Nick stated, "You can't focus on dancing at all when you're this tired. Go get in the car, I'll get your dance bag."
"Nick, I have to practice," Jeff whined, even though his body was telling him he was completely exhausted.
"Jeff, you can't practice anymore. You don't have any energy left." Nick was right; Jeff was basically a zombie right now.
"Yes I can," he lied, "Let me just go over it one more time-"
"No, Jeff, we're going home." Nick hated using his firm voice with Jeff, but he wanted to make sure Jeff didn't fall asleep in the dance studio.
"Hey, you're not my mom." Jeff started raising his voice, frustrated once again, "I don't need you telling me what to do, okay? I can take care of myself! I don't need your help!" He walked away from Nick, standing in the middle of the studio trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't understand why his friend was so desperate to have him abandon his practicing. He needed it! He couldn't make these simple mistakes in front of his classmates tomorrow. They had to be perfect. He was an over-achiever like that. He couldn't make mistakes.
Nick stood behind him, placing his hand on his shoulder, "I just want to make sure you're okay, Jeff. You've been doing so much all day; I'm surprised that you're still standing." He turned him around so that he could face him.
Jeff's eyes had watered from frustration. He wishes he could just have the perfect moves so that he didn't have to deal with this need to practice constantly and be perfect.
"I'm just…I'm just trying to take care of you," Nick gave him a small smile, "because you don't always take care of yourself. I know, I shouldn't, because of course you can take care of yourself. But I care about you, Jeff. You're like a brother to me, and brothers don't leave each other to suffer. Or collapse in studios from exhaustion."
Jeff cracked a smile at that, and sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. I just hate making simple dance mistakes like this, and I just want them to be right."
"I know, "Nick replied, "but you can't function and correct mistakes on an hour of sleep."
"That's how long I slept last night?" Nick chuckled and nodded at Jeff's question. Jeff started swaying on the spot, sleep slowly overcoming him. Nick held him steady.
"Let's get you home. You'll need lots of sleep for your performance tomorrow." Jeff nodded sleepily, grabbed his dance bag, and walked out of the studio with Nick, turning the lights off.
As soon as they got back to their dorm room, Jeff collapsed onto the bed, not even bother changing into his pajamas before sleep took over. Jeff got to dance class early the next day, refreshed and well-rested. Needless to say, his dance moves were perfect. All he needed was a little rest, and a helping hand from his best friend Nick.