Emma let out a kick, dress swirling around her. Neal swooped under just in time, catching her leg over his shoulder before turning her in a quick spin. She was careful to keep her toe on the ground.
The audience is cheering.
She doesn't want it to stop.
When it finally does, she kicks her legs straight out as her partner lifts her by the hips. With surprising strength and agility, she flips herself over his head, landing gracefully behind him.
They're back to back when they bow.
When Emma exits the stage with Neal, she's greeted by a bear hug in red sequins. Ruby, a friend in the dance company, is squealing between hugs.
"Oh my God! You were fantastic! That flip was great!" She looks at Emma, then goes and hugs Neal. She hits him in the stomach.
"Good ab-work man," She says. Neal blushes. Emma doesn't mind though. She knows Ruby wouldn't try to steal her boyfriend. She has Victor.
The tall blond man is a little odd, in Emma's opinion. He gave her a 'body in the basement' kind of vibe. But Ruby likes him, and that's all she cares about.
The announcer begins to call Ruby and Victor up for their performance, a hip hop number that required Ruby in 7 inch heels, and a dress as short as what she usually wears.
So naturally, Ruby's in her element.
"Good luck," Emma whispers as the two make their way onstage.
Neal is pulling her hand to the dressing rooms, smiling all the way.
"Emma! You were great! Dad's gonna love this,"
Because Neal was the son of Robert Gold, Emma's dance company's owner, he had been in advanced classes since he could walk. His mother, Milah, was a dancer, but had died when he was born.
When Emma had come to the dance company at nineteen, Neal had immediately fallen in love with her. Therefor, she was in all his classes. Until they finally started going out.
All of that was about to change.
While in the dressing room, someone knocked on the door.
Emma answered it, still in her dress.
It's Mr. Gold.
"Yes," She says.
"Excellent performance tonight . I'm so proud of you working with my son. But plans have slightly changed." He doesn't look happy about it, but Emma doesn't ask him what it is. Gold is a dangerous man.
"We both know you're an excellent dancer, better than Neal." He continues, Emma nodding.
"So as of today, you are being switched partners. You will no longer work with my son, but with Killian Jones. Neal will work with Regina."
With that, he walked away, leaving Emma speechless and wondering who the hell Killian Jones is.
Emma talked to Neal about it. She was unsure of how he'd take it, but he seems fine.
"As for Killian Jones, I have no idea who he is." Is all Neal can give her for an answer. Emma sighed, and leaned back against her boyfriends shoulder, starting a new episode of The Walking Dead.
Emma dreams of dancing zombies that night.
In the morning, Neal's already gone.
"Have to practice early for the show," is his response to Emma asking where he's going.
Oh yeah. The show.
It's an internal contest the company has every year, basically it's 'So You Think You Can Dance.' Eventually they'd move on to other dance companies, competing to be top school in the country.
It's really a popularity contest.
But Emma's nervous about her partner.
And incredibly excited about this new stranger.
Emma ends up being late. She rushes into the building, saying hello to the nice secretary, Belle, before deciding to 'screw it and take the stairs.'
She almost crashes into her partner entering the practice room.
"Oh my gosh! Sorry! I was running late and all these goddamn taxi drivers can't freaking slow down and before you know it there's a whole damn accident and it just seems like God hates me today-" Emma stopped when she realized who she was speaking to.
It was the guy.
The freaking Picture Guy.
The guy who took pictures.
Of her.
Not in a creepy way, oh hell no. But whenever she went to the park, he would be there, and they'd talk. He'd snap a couple pictures, turn the camera on her. But he never let her see them. Emma didn't even know his name. She'd given him hers, but he hadn't returned the favor. He'd said, "Well, I'll need an excuse to take a picture of you next time. My name for a picture of you."
He said that every time.
So, Emma just conceded to calling him Picture Guy. He would've been pretty good in pictures too. He was damn hot. Black hair that stuck out at odd angles like he had just gotten out of bed. Blue eyes that you had to stare at for hours to see the whole spectrum of colors.
She was staring at those eyes right now.
"You!? What the hell- you never told me...you ass!" She finally went with, completely pissed off and mad at him. He tried to protest, but was interrupted by Gold.
"You two know each other?" He asked, looking between the two of them.
Picture Guy started to speak, but a very angry blonde cut him off.
"No. I just see him at Starbucks all the time. So, whatever-his-name-is is gonna be my partner?" Emma said.
"Yes, it appears so. Unless that's a problem…?" Gold half asked, half demanded.
"No, we'll be fine." Picture Guy said. He turned to Emma. "I'm Killian. Killian Jones. It's a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to us dancing together."
Emma gave him a cold hard stare. The tension was tangible.
"Go fuck yourself, Picture Guy. With a cactus. And while you're at it, stick it where the sun shines you antagonist prick." She flipped him off, dumped her dance bag on the floor, and stalked off to the other end of the room to stretch.
"Is she always like this?" Killian asked Gold, who was looking between the two of them amusedly.
"This is her being nice," replied the older man.
"Good luck," he said, before leaving Killian with Emma.
Here darlings! I hope you like it!