A/N: I'm doing the thing! I'm writing for the OT3 (aka RivaMikaJean). I don't know, it just happened and it's going to be a multichapter. Holy shit, Idk, the plot just came to my head and I couldn't let it go. I swear I tried but I couldn't. You should like read this tbh. It isn't that bad.
Dance, Love, Dance Again
Chapter Title: Hate at First Sight
"My dancing classes start tomorrow." Jean declared, dropping his black bag on the couch and jumping to lie over it. His fingers ran over his hair, legs crossed. "Did you hear me?" He pulled himself up to peek from behind the couch over at his friend who was struggling to scrub the kitchen floor. "Levi…"
"Yes, I heard you." His friend shouted, shooting a glare at him. "Can't you fucking see I'm too busy to talk right now?" He fixed his gaze back at the floor, scrubbing it hard.
"Geez, okay." Jean shrugged and lied back down, eyes checking the clock on the wall. It was nearing midnight. "So,…how are things in the restaurant going?"
He heard his friend grumble at his question, "I swear to fucking god, I'm going to fire Eren—fucking useless shit…" Tha sharpness of Levi's voice matched the way he was scrubbing the floor, with both anger and rage.
"What did he do again?" Jean often had to listen to Levi's complaints about the issues he had with his restaurant. He didn't know Eren personally, but he had heard a lot about him to know him enough.
With a heavy sigh, Levi dropped the brush and got up, wiping his hands off with a towel. "He said he wants a month off because he needs to get things done for his wedding." He opened the faucet and brought an empty glass from the upper cabinet, to fill it up with some water, "He knows very well that I'm lacking workers, yet he wants to leave for a month."
"What did you tell him?" Jean sat up, removing his shoes and socks.
"I told him he could take his entire life off." Levi finished his glass of water then placed it down on the counter, pulling a chair to sit.
"See, Levi, that's exactly why you lack workers. You just…keep firing everyone." Jean shook his head, knowing how nervy Levi easily gets. Even if he didn't fire workers, they would eventually quit.
"He then said he could find someone to replace him temporarily until he's back. He'd better do." Levi attempted to speak in a calmer voice. However, freeing his tone from anger wouldn't free his mind from it too.
"That's good. I mean, I would help, but I'm busy…" Jean kicked his shoes off and tossed the socks into them before getting rid of his jacket.
"Yeah, yeah. You're already helping by staying away from my goddamned restaurant." Levi got up and walked to the couch, "Your dinner is in the microwave. Don't forget to clean up your shit. I swear I will burn your guitar till it ends up ashes in the trash can. Cleaning the restaurant alone kills all my energy." He nagged and walked to his bedroom, shutting the door closed.
"Hey! Where did you go? I wanted to talk to you about my dancing classes!" Jean sat up and jumped off the couch. "This is a big deal, Levi. I'm nervous and need some encouragement." Jean walked with big steps to Levi's bedroom and opened the door urgently to walk in and tell his friend about the mixture of excitement and nervousness he was going through, but all he got was a shirt thrown at his face, and his ass kicked out of the room.
"At least wait till I get dressed. You sound like a kid who can't stay a second without his mother." Levi yelled from behind the closed door.
"Hey! Don't talk like that! I do miss my mom." Jean warned with a pout. A shade of pink came across his cheeks, but it soon vanished when sensing the shirt was still covering his head, "Your shirt smells like cleaning products." Jean threw the shirt to the ground and crossed his legs and arms, sitting on the floor and facing Levi's door. "My mom is the one who always encouraged me to follow my dreams. She believed in me, and despite it being hard for her to be separated from me, she still agreed to let me leave, just for the sake of chasing after my dreams." As the happy features disappeared from Jean's face, a frown replaced them slightly at the memory of his mother, but he smiled anyway, "You know, I really wish she was here today. Tomorrow is a big day to me—it's a step closer to my dream. I'm sure she would have made my favorite plate, and congratulated me, hugged me and wished me the best of luck for tomorrow." With each word Jean said, more memories from the days when he still lived with his mother came to mind, drawing dumb smiles and an innocent glow in his eyes, a glow which formed a tear glistening and almost falling, the nostalgia towards the place he called home, which was far away from him in the present.
"Well, mommy's boy," Levi who finished getting dressed, opened the door and stared down at his friend, "Get your ass to the kitchen and go have your dinner before I decide to feed it to the cats in the street." Levi's words felt like a kick aimed at all the sweet and warm memories Jean was remembering, and was also a reminder for him that he was so far away from home.
"Hmph!" Jean huffed and stood up, slowly getting himself back into present. He walked to the kitchen to check the microwave where Levi said his dinner was, and Levi followed him. When Jean got the first glimpse of his dinner, he paused, his eyes slowly widening, "Huh?" He was in disbelief. He could swear he saw his favorite dish in the microwave. "Y-You made that?"
"No. Your mom's ghost did. Of course I made it. Who the fuck do you think did?" Levi shrugged nonchalantly, watching Jean's reaction and hiding his pleased expression under his usual grumpy mask.
Jean wasn't imagining like he had thought, believing he was still stuck in the memories he was having a moment ago. It really was his favorite dish, and he turned around to look at Levi with teary eyes, "Can I hug you?" He said in a pleading tone.
"Good fucking night." Levi turned around, attempting to escape to his bedroom before things would get too emotional for him to handle, but before he'd get out of the kitchen, Jean quickly jumped to give his friend a strong hug from behind. The other struggled to push him away but he wouldn't let go, and they ended up falling to the ground, with Jean on top
"Asshole!" Levi cursed, slightly regretting ever thinking about being kind enough to surprise his friend.
"I love you!" Jean admitted, not anymore holding back his tears, and he sobbed into his friend's shoulder, thankful to him, for he at least brought back a tiny slice of his childhood to him.
"I just fucking changed my clothes." Levi sighed and glared at the ground, but his gaze softened slightly, and for a brief second, there was a smile on his lips. "Now, get off. That's enough." Jean still refused to move, and Levi had to kick him off and get up. "All I asked you to do is to eat your fucking dinner. How hard can that be?"
"Shut up. I'm having mixed emotions right now." Jean sat up, wiping the tears off with his sleeve, embarrassed but not too much. At this time, he didn't mind letting his friend see him cry.
"I thought you said you wanted to talk."
Once Jean heard that, he got up instantly, excited to tell his friend about his day. He took out his plate from the microwave and placed it on the table then sat down. Levi joined the boy, and pulled a chair to sit.
"So, how did things go?" Levi rested his cheek on his palm, gazing at his friend.
"I auditioned today and the judges got impressed. I was a bit nervous at first to hear their comments, but they complimented me and encouraged me so I was relieved. My name got added to the list of the participants. The classes start tomorrow. Well, from what I understood, they're going to pair us. There were too many participants, so I believe there's going to be a contest between the couples to ease the elimination. Now that's what's making me nervous. Working with a partner would make things quite harder. What if my relationship with my partner won't be good and we'll keep arguing?" Jean said with an anxious voice, looking down at his plate with almost no appetite to eat. He kept moving the fork in circles without touching the food.
"Yeah, you always fuck shit up with people. Maybe you should just quit." Levi mocked, leaning back against the chair and folding his arms.
"What? You're supposed to encourage me!" Jean frowned at his friend and dropped his fork on the table.
"I'm just kidding, idiot. Usually people get motivated when others try to put them down." He hoped it would work on him as well.
"I don't get motivated. I actually feel down!" Jean exclaimed.
"You'll do just fine. Don't worry. And then how hard could it be to deal with your partner? This isn't a dating competition. You're just going to dance, so don't feel too stressed about it." Levi was probably the last to talk about getting along with people.
"Yeah, you're right. I hope my partner will be easy going. I'll be done for good if it's someone like you. I'll probably quit immediately." He shivered at the thought.
"See, now, you're putting yourself down—what do you mean? I'm not easy going?" Levi raised a brow questioningly.
"Duh!"
"I think allowing you to live in the same house as me is a proof enough of how easy going I am with you." Levi had way too many conditions to share a house with someone, regarding their cleanliness and arrangement. He was too picky and careful about whom he'd spend his time with.
"You know what? Just forget it. I didn't say anything." Jean picked his fork again and began eating his dinner, "One day, I'm going to become famous, and when that day comes, you're going to beg for me to live with you again." Jean was now confident as he said, part of Levi's plan worked and he was glad.
"Oh? So you're planning on replacing me with money and fame? We'll see if they're going to be as good friends as I was. That's if you ever make it that far" Levi smirked and got up, walking back to his bedroom.
"Yeah, we'll see." He challenged, his appetite back at full, and so was his determination.
The night passed with Jean making a call to his mother to inform her with the good news. Hearing her voice always brought him good luck—or so he believed, but he'd just love to hear her voice anyway. As the call ended, he was promised with a great sleep and a bright new day with new challenges. But not everyone's day started off great.
"…Why the hell are you telling me this now?" Disappointed, mad and furious, people in the street heard the voice of a girl sneaking through the open window of the apartment.
"Mikasa, please, calm down a bit." Apologetic, Eren said while sitting on the table, half done with his breakfast, "You seemed upset last night so I didn't want to bother you with it."
"Eren! It's too late to ask me this. I know I've never refused to do anything for you before, but I'm so sorry, no." Mikasa turned away from him and opened the fridge, scanning it with her eyes to find something edible.
"Mikasa, just listen to me, please." He begged.
"I said 'no', Eren. Do you understand how long I've been waiting for this day? Because you obviously don't, and I'm not going to waste this chance because you, sir, told your boss that I'm going to be your replacement without even asking if I wanted to or not." Angrily, she slammed the fridge's door closed.
"He said he would fire me. I didn't have a choice." He explained, but wasn't excusing himself.
"Why didn't you ask Armin instead? Why me?" Mikasa slammed the surface of the table, causing Eren to shudder.
"Armin is busy and you know that."
"Busy? And I'm not? Or did you think that I'm always at your service whenever you need me?" She straightened up and pushed her hair back, rolling her eyes in disbelief.
"Mikasa, now, come on. Try to understand. It's only for a month till I get things done for my wedding. This is going to be a tough month for me and Annie and I need a break from work to have enough time." Eren made an innocent face, and he could see a small change in Mikasa's expression.
"That's not my problem." But she didn't fall for it anyway.
"Annie is upset with me. She said that I'm not doing anything to help out and even asked me if I wasn't ready to get married. You know I love Annie so much, and she's probably feeling so stressed right now without my help. I have to be with her." Eren insisted still.
"I can't." But Mikasa was as stubborn as he was.
"Damn it, Mikasa." He growled.
"This month isn't only important to you, Eren. It's important to me too. This is something I've been waiting for for so long. I would have helped if you asked me earlier, but right now, I can't. You'd better find someone else to help you." She stated, nonchalantly.
"But, Mikasa, you know I don't trust someone in dealing with my boss except for you. He gets angry so easily if any of the workers mess up. You never mess up."
"Actually, now that I remembered, is your boss that asshole who made me pay for accidentally hitting the trash can with my car, and also forced me to pick up what fell from it and clean the floor?" Mikasa's death glare was back, and Eren gulped in reaction.
"Uh!..." He drove his gaze away from her, "N-No…Nah! Um…! Nah, it's not him."
"It's him, isn't it? That bastard who discounted your salary for three months because of my 'rude' attitude with him that day…"
"No."
"Yes. And that's another reason why I'm still going to refuse."
"Mikasa, please—just."
"No." She got up and took her handbag then walked to the door to leave. Eren stood up quickly and followed her in a hurry to stop her.
"Mikasa, wait. If you're not going to do it for me, then, at least, do it for my mother." He shouted, and only then she paused to listen to him, "She told us…that whenever one of us is in need, we'd better help each other. Please, I really need your help."
Eren's words brought silence right away, leaving the two standing there with nothing more to say, and Mikasa lowered her head at his words, her hair covering her eyes. She turned her head just slightly, before she continued to walk away. Eren at last gave up, and he watched her leaving with a frown before going back inside. He had tried his best to convince her and yet she refused to help him.
Jean, who was supposed to wake up early today, was still in deep sleep, hugging his pillow, and drooling over it. "Mhm, yes, mom. I love you too. Your food is the best…"
Levi was in the kitchen, making breakfast, he had been expecting Jean to wake up way earlier, but he noticed that his friend wasn't up yet. "…This fucking loser." Levi sighed and finally decided to walk to Jean's room and wake him up by himself. He opened the door and found him still asleep. "Get up. I thought this day was one step closer to your dream. Now, you're going to be miles away from it if you're late." Yet Jean kept on drowning in dreams. That was when Levi kicked him off the bed. "Get up."
As Jean hit the rigid surface of the floor, he woke up shocked, confused and unsure of what just happened, till he had a glimpse of Levi walking out and his eyes drifted swiftly to his alarm clock. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm going to be late." Jean got up quickly and ran to his closet, clothes flying here and there as he stood, unsure of what to wear.
Levi was serving breakfast for his friend when Jean finally walked out of his room, pulling his pants up with his hands and taking a seat at the table.
"Don't forget to wash your face and brush your hair and teeth. Jesus, you look like a mess." Levi addressed him, leaning his hand on the table and sipping his tea.
"A hot mess…" Jean smirked and winked.
Levi furrowed his eyebrows then sighed, "Shut up. They're going to kick you out thinking you're some kind of beggar."
"Oh come on. I'm already so nervous. Can't you try to cheer me up a bit?" Jean dropped the fork, feeling somewhat discouraged.
"Eat fast so you won't be late."
"You know what? Fuck you." Jean glared and picked his fork again to eat.
"Oh, shame on me, I was going to drive you." Levi placed his empty cup on the table and walked out of the kitchen.
"Wait, what? For real?" Jean's eyes followed his friend, smiling at him.
"Just hurry up. I'll go get the car ready." Levi reached a hand to the car keys then walked to the door.
"Can I hug you again, pretty please?"
"Do it and I'll kick your ass and make you fly all the way to the studio."
"Well, it'll be worth it."
"Jean, no!"
A few minutes later, the two were finally sitting in the car, and Levi began the drive to the studio. Jean decided to bring his breakfast with him since he was in a rush. "By the way, thanks for last night's dinner. It was so good—not exactly the same way my mom makes it, but still was so good."
"Didn't your mom teach you to not talk with a full mouth."
"What are you making for dinner tonight?"
"Are the classes going to take till the evening?" Levi gazed quickly at Jean and looked back at the road.
"No, but I might stay for extra hours…" He swallowed and answered.
"I don't know if I can make dinner. But, if you want, you can come to the restaurant and have dinner there." Levi offered a suggestion to his friend.
"For free?"
"…No, you'll have to pay double the price." He sneered, and Jean chuckled.
"Can you come to pick me up?"
"If I'm not too busy, I might. It won't hurt you to take a taxi. Eren is probably not coming today, and I doubt he'd find someone to replace him. This is going to be a tough day." Levi let out a deep sigh, tired just by thinking about how the day would be.
"Ah! Right, I almost forgot about that. It's fine then, I'll take a taxi. I'll get my car back by next week. I can wait." As Jean spoke, Levi got a phone call which cut off their talk.
Levi pulled his cell from his pocket and checked the screen, it was Eren calling, and he answered it while mumbling curses, "Eren…" His voice was harsh.
"Uh! S-Sir…I've spoken to my sister about—well…taking my place in the restaurant for this month and…she said she'll think about it. She's a bit busy today and probably will arrive late. I-I sadly can't come today."
"Let me get this right, you lied to me, Eren, didn't you?"
"No, sir, I didn't. I would never dare to, sir."
"And then who's your sister? I don't recall you having a sister."
"She—She isn't my real sister, just a…kind of…"
"Oh, hold on. Is it that fucking brat who hit the trash can and scattered garbage all over my restaurant's entrance? Because if it's her, I don't want her anywhere near my goddamned restaurant. You hear that? I'd hire a dog but never, ever, think about hiring her. She'll make a mess of my restaurant and only make people leave with no coming back. She's as useless as you, shithead."
"Sir, you don't know Mikasa at all. Don't judge her by your first meeting. She's actually so…I mean, kind of nice—r than that. She's so responsible and so organized and will help so much in the restaurant. Trust me."
"No is a No, Eren. I said I don't want her. You either get your ass back to work today, or consider yourself fired." Levi hung up and tossed his cell back into his pocket.
"What is it now?" Jean wondered.
"I'll fucking murder Eren."
The drive took about half an hour before Levi finally parked the car near the sidewalk as Jean stepped out of it. They took a moment to stare at the studio before Jean leaned down to talk to his friend.
"Won't you come in?" Jean asked.
"No, I have to go to the restaurant now."
"Ah! I see."
"Good luck."
"Well, the competition isn't starting yet." But that still wasn't keeping him from being nervous. Levi noticed it in his tone.
"I meant with your partner." He clarified and watched Jean's color turning to yellow.
"Oh, yeah, about that, fuck, I almost forgot about it."
"Try to not act like a loser."
"I'm not a loser."
As the two were talking, another car passed by Levi's, and, due to its speed, splashed some water at his car by accident before parking in front of him. It was way to get Levi's day started.
"What the—why are people so fucking retarded—I'm going to teach this bastard a lesson." And right when Levi was about to step out of the car, Jean stopped him.
"Wait. Dude, you don't wanna cause problems in here. What if they ban me from participating, thinking I was with you." Jean warned.
"This asshole showered my car with mud. I fucking cleaned it last night." Levi would forgive anything but dirtying something he worked hard on cleaning.
"Levi, you clean your car every night. What's the point of getting mad now? Please, just—calm down."
"Fine." He grumbled, not satisfied yet but not wanting to disappoint his friend.
As for the driver of the other car, which happened to be Mikasa, talking to her friend on phone, "Yes, Sasha, that is the address. Try to get there as quick as you can. Tell him exactly what I said. Try not to mess around like you usually do. You won't be pleased by the outcome for sure. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay? Yes, thank you. Bye." Mikasa put the phone back in her handbag before she stepped out of the car and walked straight ahead to the studio.
"I'll see you later." Jean waved at his friend before walking his way inside as well. Levi nodded and waited till Jean was gone before taking off with his car. But as he was still holding a grudge against the car driver who splashed mud at his car, Levi decided to take revenge. He looked around, making sure no one was looking at him, Levi moved to the other seat, enough to get near the car, before aiming a fist at the wing mirror, breaking its glass. He then quickly got back to the driver seat, shaking his hand for it was hurt, but he shrugged it off and continued his way out of sight.
As all the participants arrived, they all gathered in the main hall, where the stage was. The dance instructors were standing in line, and the manager ahead of them.
"Hello and welcome to the Wings of Freedom's studio, participants. My name is Erwin Smith, the manager. As you walked in, you've been asked to pick a paper from the boxes. Each paper had a number written on it. You're probably wondering about the purpose behind that. Allow me to explain how things are going to work. You have been informed that, in order to participate, each one of you will be paired up with someone else. To make things as fair as possible, and instead of having dance instructors pairing you, we decided to make a game. The owner of each number, will be paired up with the person who have the same number as them, easy as that. Each couple will have a dance instructor, and we pretty much did the same. Your dance instructor is going to be the one holding the same number as you. Now, without any further longing, I'll start calling you by the numbers you have. When I do call you, please, step to the stage with your partner, and stand behind your dance instructor." The manager explained, giving the participants a couple of seconds to talk before anyone got called.
"This is so random…"
"Random but fair."
"I wonder who my partner will be."
"Number One!" The manager called, and the parting began. Each couple stepping to the stage and joining their dance instructor, and with each call, Jean's heartbeats were going faster, his eyes scanning the people around him who hadn't been paired up with anyone yet, thinking how things would go with each one of them, until he was finally called to the stage.
"Number forty-seven."
Jean gulped, clenched his fists, and stepped nervously forward to the stage. First look at his dance instructor and he wasn't that impressed. It was a woman, wearing glasses and putting her hair in a ponytail. She looked so weird, and the large smirk she had across the face was freaking him out. He already felt failure calling for him, but not until he turned around and saw his partner coming, a tall, gorgeous girl, with a short dark hair and a sexy look. He held his breath in surprise, stood frozen as she passed by him. His heart skipped a beat when she took her place behind him. She had a delicate scent. He was starting to wonder how he survived all this long without smelling it.
While Jean was keeping himself busy figuring out a way to get his relationship with his partner to work, the time flew by fast and all the pairs were lined up on the stage.
"Now that you have met your partners and dance instructors, I'll leave it up to them to explain the rest. Follow your dance instructor to your practice room. Good luck." With that being said, Erwin smiled at the participants then turned around and left.
It was silent for a moment before the dance instructors began guiding the participants to the practice rooms. As for Jean, he watched everyone leaving until suddenly his instructor turned around to look at him.
"Hello, my lovelies. Oh my god, I'm so excited about teaching you. You look so adorable. Stand next to each other so I can look at you properly." She pulled Mikasa closer then took her time staring at the two. "Perfect, you two are such a perfect couple. Oh my god, I'm so happy! Aren't you happy?"
"I think it's too early to say whether we'll make a perfect couple or not. We don't even know each other's names." Mikasa rolled her eyes, wondering whether the dance instructor was being serious. She hoped not.
"Oh! That's right. I'm so sorry. My name is Hanji Zoe, and I'm going to be your dance instructor." She fixed her glasses, and when Jean was about to introduce himself, she cut him off, "Let's get started now, shall we? Follow me, dears!" She began walking ahead of the two, and Mikasa followed her immediately.
Jean paused for a moment, looking at them, inhaling sharply, "This is going to be tough." He sighed then ran after the two.
"And who the fuck are you?" Levi asked in an angry tone, his eyebrows furrowing at the girl in front of him.
"I'm Sasha, a friend of Eren's." The girl introduced herself with a big grin, not minding the glares Levi was aiming at her—or trying not to mind them.
"Okay. And where the fuck is Eren? I told him to come and get back to work." Levi was still surprised Eren dared not to come to work, despite making it clear for him that he'd lose his job.
"He's actually in the airport right now, going to see his fiancée. Don't worry, sir. I'll do my best." Sasha saluted him and hoped he would get convinced to hire her-mostly because the smell of food was inviting her more than the owner of the restaurant himself-.
"That little shit actually did it."
"Except, I can't stay till night, sir. I'm going to help here till around 3 pm maximum. Mikasa should be here by then." She added.
"And who the fuck is that too?" Levi raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"The girl who's supposed to work here in Eren's stead. You know, Eren told you about her, didn't he?"
"That—He told me about her and I made it clear enough that I do not want her to work in my restaurant. You go get Eren right now." He ordered and slammed his hand on the counter.
"I can't, sir. It's too late." She bowed her head apologetically.
"Fuck this shit."
"Sir, maybe you should give her a chance? It won't hurt." Concerned by the noise they were making, another girl, working in the restaurant, approached the two and spoke calmly, trying to sort things out. "How do you know she isn't going to do better than Eren?"
"Petra, stay out of this." Levi aimed at her to leave.
"…" She huffed and walked back into the kitchen.
Levi looked back at Sasha, reconsidering things in his head before saying, "Fine, you can work here. Your friend better arrive in time. Now get your ass in the kitchen, Petra shall tell you how things work here."
"Yes, sir!"
Meanwhile, Jean and Mikasa were getting slightly to learn more about their dance instructor as she spoke more to them, "I've been teaching dance for years now and I can tell who's talented just by the first look. My thoughts on you two are that you both are so talented. You're going to win the competition without doubts, and keep this in mind. When you'll be holding the prize you're going to remember my words and say 'She was right'." Pretty much they knew they'd fail.
"…Yeah, before we go any further in this fantasy, how about you actually see what we can do?" Impatient to start, Mikasa suggested. They had wasted so much time hearing the dance instructor saying the same thing over and over without even getting to practice.
"Right, that's a good idea! Okay, let me get the radio working."
Hanji walked a few step away from the two, giving the opportunity for Jean to get to know his partner. He breathed, looked at her from the corner of his eye, and almost changed his mind, feeling frustrated by looking at her. "Uh! My name is Jean. It's nice to work with you."
Mikasa looked up at him with a sharp gaze, uninterested. He gulped and held his hand out for her and he was so glad when she held it for a handshake.
"Yeah, we'll see how nice it will turn out."
"Which one of you wants to go first?" Hanji asked.
"I can go first. Which song am I going to dance to?" Mikasa stepped forward, barely leaving a space for Jean to talk.
Hanji smiled and shook her head at Mikasa's question before answering, "I don't think letting you know which song you'll be dancing to would be a wise thing. A real dancer will learn the music as it plays, and create their own moves along with it. It's not a matter of control. The song does not control you, and you don't control it either. It's a matter of fusion between the dancer and the music. Set your body free, and unleash your imagination." With that being said, Hanji pressed the play button.
The music began playing, and the two tried to focus on listening to it. It seemed familiar for both of them.
"Oh, wait I know this one…" Jean exclaimed.
"Up All Night…" Mikasa guessed.
"…By Owl City." Jean added in confirmation.
Mikasa stood calm, getting the rhythm right before making any move.
Hanji frowned before addressing her, "Don't! Just move along with it."
Hearing Hanji's words, Mikasa decided to give it a shot. She relaxed, and let her body move with the rhythm. Her moves were slow, steps unbalanced for a couple of seconds. She seemed lost for a short time, as if she was still focusing on learning the rhythm, but once it got intense, her moves became more confidant. Smoothly moving around with vehement steps, her hips rocked fluently. It was perfection but not quite. Her moves weren't flawless, but she was too talented to make them obvious. Hanji still noticed them, though.
"Alright, now, it's your partner's turn." Hanji cut off Mikasa's performance before the song ended, and Mikasa stepped aside to let more space for Jean. It was rather different to watch him dance, unique and fascinating. His steps were so even, heavy but fast, easily spinning and swaying. He moved so simply, like a free bird, spreading its wings in the air and flying so generously. His long arms' movements matched both the rhythm and the lyrics, his broad shoulders quivering almost unnoticeably. Hanji was impressed, and Mikasa wasn't much happy with Hanji's reaction.
Before the song would end, Hanji paused the music and rushed to the boy, hugging him, "Yes, yes!" She screamed rather excitedly, "You represent the meaning behind our studio's name! You are the symbol of this place! The Wings of Freedom! I am so amazed and in love with your movements! My god!"
"Uh!" Embarrassed, Jean blushed madly, freezing in his place until his instructor pulled away from him, and he could finally breathe.
"I can see your future, boy. Fame is waiting for you—."
"Excuse me, but…what about me?" Mikasa asked, not amused by standing aside and watching Jean get all the credits.
Hanji turned her gaze back to Mikasa. Fixing her glasses, she said, "Oh, you, yes, well, your performance wasn't bad. I think you practice more than actually dance. That's why you were a bit shaky at first and couldn't get a clear image of the moves you wanted to perform. You were still trying to figure out the rhythm, while I asked you to move along with it. Don't learn it. Feel it, listen to it. Your partner performed a great example of what I was talking about. What's your name again, dear?"
"Jean, Jean Kirschtein."
"Yes, Jean, my dear!"
She wasn't jealous, or was she? She couldn't be jealous of him. Mikasa was talented and she knew that. She was a great dancer and wouldn't let a simple comment made by an obviously-unprofessional dance instructor put her down. But it was too late. Her blood was boiling, and even after leaving the studio she was still raging. She got in her car and got ready to leave, till she noticed the glass of the wing mirror broken.
"What the fuck is this?" Mikasa looked around, but there was no one acting in a suspicious way to blame for. "You gotta be fucking kidding me. This is unbelievable." Mikasa closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. It was one of those days again, bad luck days.
"Mikasa this man is so scary—I can't." As Mikasa was driving, she decided to make a call to her friend in the restaurant and see whether things were going alright, but she ended up rambling about how bad her day was.
"I mean, how could she? It's normal for me to be a bit shaky at first because I was the one who started. That wasn't even shaky. He had so much time to learn the rhythm already and figure out the best way to dance to it. I'm so mad."
"He keeps yelling at the customers. I mean what the hell?"
"I disliked this pairing up idea since the beginning and now I hate it, and it's only the first day. Fuck this shit. I don't like being compared to people."
"Mikasa, I'm scared."
"And some asshole broke the glass of my car's wing mirror. This day can't get any worse. I swear to fucking god, I'm about to murder someone."
"I wanna go home!"
"Sasha, for god's sake, stop whining. I'm almost there."
The call ended, and Sasha stood next to Petra, both watching Levi in horror, dragging a customer out of the restaurant after beating him up.
"Next time, if the food of my restaurant isn't good enough for your majesty, then stay the fuck away. Go back to your wife and ask her to cook for you." Levi kicked the customer out and stood up outside, watching him as he struggled to walk to his car, and once he left, Levi was about to go back inside, when he heard the sound of the trash can hitting the ground. He turned around to see another car parking in front of the restaurant, which happened to bump into the trash can, "Who the hell is this fucker, now?" With clenched fists, Levi walked straight ahead to the car, only to see Mikasa stepping out of it to his own surprise.
"Oh, shoot!" Mikasa looked down at the mess she made, and looked up to meet Levi's eyes, cold and narrowed.
"You!" He gritted his teeth.
Mikasa folded her arms against her chest, returning the glares back at him. There they met again, just the same way in their first meeting. Just when they both thought their day couldn't get any worse.
TBC
A/N: Thanks for reading. A review would be so much appreciated.