He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course Natsu would find a way to sneak off to the audience, when he should be behind stage still. For such a noisy guy, he could be stealthy when he wanted. Unfortunately.

As he made his way towards the platform, a voice floated out over the club. The audience quieted marginally as the emcee announced the night's events and the first contestant. The man stumbled a bit when he tried to introduce Gray, and he smirked. He hadn't given them a name. Not one that could be read, at least.

It was written in a demon language and alphabet. Not that anyone would ever know, but its translation was-

"ICE PRINCE!" Someone hollered from the audience. His smirk fell into a slack jawed look of disbelief.

No fucking way. Gray narrowed his eyes at the culprit. Natsu. The flaming bastard was going to get a foot up his ass after Gray won this stupid competition.

The emcee laughed a little, and asked if that was okay with"I fucking hate you. You know that, don't you flame brain?"

"Yeah yeah, shut your mouth popsicle dick. And put your fucking pants on."

"What's the point? In a few minutes I'm going to be on stage and have to take them off again anyway." Gray's words slipped through harshly clenched teeth as he tugged his pants back on anyway. His shirt and boots were long gone, location unknown.

"Look, I didn't realize it was a strip dancing competition. Calm your ass, snowflake. Not like it'll be difficult for you anyway." Natsu retorted.

"I don't see why you even had to enter us in a dancing competition in the first place."

"'Cuz I want to win it?"

Gray shook his head and closed his mouth over an exasperated sigh. Stupid fucking dragon slayers and their stupid fucking need to compete in everything. It was completely Natsu's fault that they were currently in a line behind the stage of a gay club.

He couldn't remember the name of the town they were in, but he knew the moment they walked in for the job that it was a place with a booming nightlife.

Not that he was adverse to that. Gray had been in his fair share of dimly lit clubs, sweat slicked skin roiling in a sea of pulsing lights, pounding bass, and clouds of lust. Nearly every job he went on, if it took him close enough to a large enough town. So, yeah. Maybe more than his fair share.

It wasn't that he enjoyed the club atmosphere, or that he was looking for a lay. Not that he never got propositioned, and he wasn't proud to admit that on a few occasions he'd accepted. No, his visits to the clubs scattered across Fiore generally had only one purpose.

To dance.

He was a mage. He fought, drank, took on dangerous jobs for piles of jewels, and defended what he believed in. He loved his life. But he longed for the rhythm and movement that filled his home before Deliora's attack. Longed for the music that filled Ur's home and spurred him and Lyon to dance with her nightly, bodies spinning and laughter floating on the air.

He longed to dance and lose himself in the rhythms that could transcend languages, distances, life and death. In the northern countries, it had been life. It had been the bridge between being and not, and it had been all of his people, all of him.

It was everything, to find a place within those waves of sounds and simply be. He was thrown into the music that Fiore lacked, and it hurt.

It was an ache that permeated everything, every part of Gray and his life. The ache of missing a part of yourself. He knew that he could talk to the guild, seek out Vijeeter, perhaps dance with him. But it was merely a taste of what he needed, would only soothe the pain long enough for it to come back twice as strong.

Gray simply lived with the culture and the people that was lacking something so important to him. And yeah, maybe it made him a bit of an asshole sometimes. But he couldn't help it. Letting the guild know, and allowing them to pity him and misunderstand, was not an option. But he needed it, even the littlest bit, to survive.

So he sought out the places he would not be recognized in the throng of flesh that moved to the beat. He buried himself in the warm, writhing bodies of the masses, multicolored beneath flashing lights and moving as one to a song easier felt than heard. It was different than what he wanted, what he needed. But it was enough.

He could lose himself for hours in the movement and too-loud music, could simply be. Gray kept that to himself, that sense of being and falling apart and becoming whole all at once as the music flowed through him and out in dance. As far as he could remember, he'd never once let another guild member truly see him dance. Hell, no one who even knew his name had seen him dance since Ur had cast Iced Shell.

But that was about to change.

Thanks to the dumbassery of the pink-haired pyro who had drug him off to a pole and strip dancing contest in a gay bar. Natsu had likely not read any part of the sign outside other than the word 'competition'.

Gray sighed, irritated at the flaming piece of shit he called his partner and at himself, for being excited. For being happy, feeling… relieved that one of his guildmates would finally know about this side of him.

He rubbed at his eyes, ignoring Natsu's excited humming and general restlessness in the line directly behind him. He would do this. Too late to back out now, anyway.

As a voice called out to the first in line to please step forward, Gray steeled himself and pushed through the curtains and onto the stage.

It was a simple enough setup. Black paint covered the wooden floors, scuffed by no doubt hundreds of feet, music stands, and God knew what else.

In the center of the stage, but towards the front, there was a slightly raised metal platform. On it stood a single, shining pole. It was situated close enough to the audience that if he sat with his back against the pole, his feet would touch the edge of the platform, and if he laid flat on his back his feet would be completely off the stage.

The lights weren't yet on above the stage. Gray could still see into the audience. Where a pink head was smirking at him.

him. He gave a curt nod.

"Alright, then, Ice Prince. What earned you that name?"

Gray was pissed enough, might as well put that emotion to good use. He felt his magic building up and up inside of him, until finally-

"Ice make: WAVE!" He let it all go with a shout, watching proudly at the open mouthed stares he got from the audience. His ice rolled away from him, towards the edge of the stage, and folded back on itself.

With a snap of his fingers, it shattered and fell to coat the stage in sparkling diamonds.

"That… was certainly… Alright! Ice Prince! Are you ready?" The emcee did not wait for an answer. The lights flashed on blindingly above him, and he stepped onto the crushed, shimmering carpet of ice that surrounded him.

A moment later, a familiar song began to shake the air around him. And Gray began to move.