Chapter Two

He watched the dancers, all filing out in groups of threes in a triangular pattern, twirling gracefully through the air like hummingbrids just as they landed on the wooden floor with a soundless twitter of their feet. It was as if they were made to sing in the air, they were made to fly, not root themselves to the ground like stones to dirt. He sat against the wall of mirrors with eyes wide open, mouth formed in a gentle O as he saw them all line up for the final canon, the final declaration of who they were as human beings, before they bowed in semi-circular formation, and he imagined the lights, the spotlights, as they dimmed down one by one, before settling on the one girl in the middle.

Her lithe form twirled, one foot tucking under her other, her face downturned, as if afraid to look out over the make-believe audience, and he sighed when he saw her stop, and bow. Everyone clapped, and he did too, even though he knew they wouldn't hear him. He would always clap, just for them, because he knew that even if they didn't hear him, at least he would be happy to imagine that they'd turn to him, and say Well, thanks, thank you for acknowledging what I've done. He watched Blake as he clapped too, a smile on his face. He was pleased.

"Well, Andie, I hope there's been an improvement on last week's routine. Care to show us?" Blake turned his attention to Andie, the girl, he noticed from yesterday, who had been laughing as Chase joked with her. Robert smiled, laughing to himself, as he saw Andie take centre stage, her eyes rolling to the heavens above as the music started up, a graceful and sweeping orchestral piece that definitely was not her style.

He loved Andie, he liked the way she moved, the way she rebelled against the Director, and held her ground. She couldn't be swayed easily, and that earned Robert's respect.

Silently, he got up and stood beside her, his invisible form against her very real one, and just as Andie reached into a swerve that defied everything Blake had been trying to teach her this past week, Robert reached inside himself and started to pop and twirl against her. He swerved away from her body as she got to close, but he freestyled as well as her, and enjoyed it even moreso when everyone began to secretly smile against Blake's frown.

Feel the music, let it carry you to that place where you cannot be touched,

he softly whispered against his lips, and he breathed in as he closed his eyes, letting the classical piece touch upon something more upbeat, a remix of what could have been playing over the speakers. He wondered if Andie heard what he did, and supposed she probably did: where else would that jerky hip movement to the right have come from if he had been planning on going straight to the left?

Blake cut the music off with a sharp click on his tongue. Andie stopped straightaway, and Robert felt a tip of annoyance in his laboured breath as he watched Blake with studied eyes. The guy loved his routine, his step by step, but truth be told, while that was pretty and sparkly to look at, free-styling and the feeling it brought to an audience, to a nation, to the world, was more important, and involved a lot more than previously learned material.

You had to feel it in order for it to let it take you away. You had to understand the music owned you just as much as you owned it, and without that common knowledge, it was useless to even try perfecting those plain twirls in ballet, or those head spins in hip-hop. Music was useless, unless you knew how to speak to it, and let it speak to you.

He gripped his hands, as Blake gave out to her, spoke down to her, but still she couldn't be swerved, and Robert smiled, knowing it would take a lot more than that in order for her to be taken down.

He sat down against the mirror again and waited until she sat back down, a smirk on her face. She crossed her legs, and Robert smiled, before he moved his hand toward the speakers, and on came a remix, the crooning voice of Fancy Footwork blaring out jokingly against the sudden giggle of the students who sat on the floor. Andie looked around her, surprised, as the speakers weren't blaring anything like it beforehand.

Blake turned to the Player, staring at it with a look of horror on his face, and Robert continued to laugh, until the door to the dance hall opened, and in walked that girl from yesterday. Her hair flew out around her like a curtain, as she stopped running, nearly tripping over her own feet as she came to a full stop in front of the entire class. Her face had the class giggling again, and Andie smiled to her, waving a hand. Robert watched her, as he pulled his knees up and let the Fancy Footwork come to a fast halt, the music dying as suddenly as it had begun.

"You're late, Camille," Blake noted, the first to speak among the speechless crowd, and Camille nodded wordlessly, before she stuck a hand into the pile of books she carried, and walked over to him.

"I had to go to the dentist," she explained, giving the note to him. She fidgeted with her hands as she placed her books and bag down at the end of the classroom, only a few feet away from where Robert sat staring at her. He nestled back down into a comfortable position. He didn't know she danced.

"Are you ready to perform, then? Please say you wont disappoint me, after Andie the rebel decided to strike a freestyle my poor brain will never forget," Blake dramatically said, fishing his eyes on Andie, who smiled sweetly back at him. Robert sniggered. This would be interesting.

"Um, yeah, I think so," Camille blubbered, her hands still fidgeting as she clasped them to her chest. She turned to face the mirror wall, and Robert sat forward, allowing a few strands of unruly curls to slip forward and block his vision. She couldn't see him, but he, oh how he wanted to see her.

The music bounced into life, classical again, and he fought the nerve to roll his eyes when he saw Blake smile triumphantly at the fact that the Player was working perfectly again. Camille closed her eyes, and began a strict routine, her body allowing it to go where it should, performing twirls and her feet flying gracefully to the sky as she turned through the air. It was all thought out, all perfect and in sync. It was, Robert thought, something Blake would be proud of. The music swelled in sound, building and building, and Camille flowed with it all, allowing it to overtake and fill her, until her body swayed on the spot, hands suddenly flying out from where they should have stayed, and her hair came out from where it should have stayed, behind her head.

Suddenly, the music began a drum roll, completely out of sync with the music. She turned, coming closer and closer to Robert, and he tried to jerk back, to fall in behind the mirror, like he always seemingly used to. But it was no use. For some reason, his usually see-through body wouldn't let him. She swerved and swerved, her body bouncing to the rhythm, her fingers flying out as she jumped, pulling her whole body outward, she pushed back her head, before she collapsed right at his feet, right in front of the mirror, her whole body slumped against the floor as the music suddenly died out.

Her body shuddered as she suddenly tried to sit up, shaking from the feeling he saw her so suddenly put into it, and cautiously, without warning, Robert stepped forward, until he was right over her. He couldn't touch her, she wouldn't feel it, and chances were, he wouldn't feel it either, but he wanted to see her, as close as he could, and when she looked up to the mirror, her eyes travelled straightaway to him, to where he sat beside her.

She squeeled, jumping backward, her heart thudding in her mouth as she breathed fast. She stared at him, and Robert stared back, a hand out as if to touch her. For just that blissful second, he thought he was real. He thought she could see him, as clear as day. She stared at him, and continued to stare at him, even as he brushed a hand through his hair, awkwardly embarrassed, and unknowing as to what to say.

He opened his mouth to say something, and lost his voice as the chatter of the class grew. He wanted to swelter out of her line of vision, make it out that she had only seen her own shadow or something, but this one time, his body betrayed him, and stayed put. So, he tried again, he spoke, his voice low, scared, hoping, wishing, needing for this to be real.

"Can you see me?"

She breathed out, a strand of hair flying in front of her face just as Blake came up to stand beside her, and offer her a hand to sit up. She took it without looking away from him, and continued to watch him as she stepped up onto the wooden floor. Blake was saying something, but they both couldn't hear it, they were so intent on staring each other into a set of tiny, million fragments.

"Yes," she breathed, soft, low, and sweet, her voice like honey. Robert couldn't believe it, he genuinely couldn't believe it. His hands shivered from where they were placed by his sides, as he stayed sitting on the floor, where she once was. He opened his mouth, unsure as to what to say, before he felt a smile tug on his lips, the first one he'd ever truly had in what felt like... years? His heart sang with joy, and the full blast of his smile, shy and sweet, shone through, just as he shrugged, and he stood up.

He could feel himself fading now, feel her still watching him as she walked away. He was still smiling, and he looked down to the ground, hands in pockets, feeling the best he ever had in months. Finally, for the first time in his afterlife, for the first time ever, he felt like he was someone. He felt noticed.

He felt real.