I do not own Dirty Dancing.

Chapter Two

POV Johnny

Rules


"Got that, guys?" I asked the staff, clearly interrupting a lecture Max was giving the Waiters. I loved to make fun of the Waiters, almost as much as dancing. Here, they were the equivalents of Teacher's pets. Max had to have been giving them the annual talk about romancing the Daughters. I immensely enjoyed interrupting it. Probably a little more that I should. Scratch that, a lot more than I should

"Hey, hold it!" Max called, "Hold it!" I stopped. Max came over to me. Ooh, he looked pissed. I strained to keep myself from bursting into laughter

"Well, if it isn't the entertainment staff," He said bitterly. I knew Max wasn't terribly fond of me, but he didn't usually hate me. Not unless I felt like being a huge asshole, like now. I'd just caught him in a bad mood.

Max opened his mouth to continue. I got my own lecture, too. I knew the rules as well as anyone else did. Guests were off limits to me, and anyone who wasn't a Waiter. It's just that he was more worried about my breaking that rule than anyone else. Why, I couldn't imagine. I didn't like any of the guests, despite what Max and his band of Wait staff thought.

"Listen, wise ass, you've got your own rules. Dance with the Daughters," He said, "Teach them the Mambo, the Cha-Cha, anything they pay for. But that's it! That's where it ends!" Max shouted. Oh sure. Anything they pay for, and he meant anything, as long as it wasn't with one of the Daughters, because God forbid I meet someone I actually liked here. It was conveniently overlooked each time someone twice my age wanted more than dance lessons, but if that offer had come from anyone close to my age, I'd be out of here.

I looked away, clenching my jaw to keep from saying something in response, something that would probably get me fired. If I wanted to keep this job, I was going to have to bite my tongue, and keep my head down. It shouldn't have been a hard job, but it was. It was difficult to keep quiet when you had a 60 year old man shouting at you about rules, while you stood there holding your dry cleaning. "No funny business, no conversations, and keep your hands off!"

Max stalked back to his band of suck ups ready to continue his lecture. Rodriguez, one of the other Dancers, spoke up at my public grilling, "It's the same in all these places!" He complained, "Some ass in the woods, maybe, but no conversation!" Most of the staff laughed at his remarks. It earned a light smile from me, but not a laugh. It was a bit difficult to do that after what Max had just said. Besides, Rodriguez didn't really mean it. Everyone knew he and Maria were going out.

Max simply said, "Watch it, Rodriguez."

I started walking towards the other exit at the end of the dining hall, ready to forget this unfortunate rendezvous with Max. That was until Robbie, the asshole Waiter that broke Penny's heart, said smugly, "So, you think you can keep that straight, Johnny? What you can and can't lay your hands on?" His face cracked into a sickening smirk as he folded a napkin. Robbie loved that he was allowed to date the Daughters, and we weren't. But then, most of us didn't want to. Only Robbie held it above us nonetheless. I tried to refrain from pointing out that if they really knew how to dance, that meant almost every part of the body.

I sighed. What a dick. I was still mad at him for breaking Penny's heart. I wasn't going to beat him up, but I didn't need to smile at him and kiss his ass, either. I step towards him, leaning over the table where he was arranging flatware and china. "You just put your Pickle on everybody's plate, college boy, and leave the hard stuff to me," Intentionally, I knock over a few delicately folded napkins and some forks, and stalk off to get ready for the dancing tonight.


Penny and I met up before the performance, as usual. She was wearing her usual gold dancing heels, and a knee length pink dress that had laces in the back like a corset. "I hope we at least get to finish this time," She grumbled, brushing back a stand of golden blonde hair. At the last performance, Max had asked us to start dancing with other people before the song was over. Even before the choreographed parts were over. "And I wish he'd let us play some fun music. Not this stuffy old orchestral music,"

"Didn't the Rockettes dance to classical music?" I inquire. Penny and I had been in the same high school class, despite her being nearly a year younger than me, and as kids lived down the street from each other. Her Mother kicked her out right around the same time I started getting trained as an Instructor. I came here, and Penny went off to the Rockettes. She left them after two years and I got Max to offer her a job here.

"We got to have fun too," She grumbled.

I laugh as I take her hand and lead my friend out to the center of the floor. "Just be glad they don't make us Polka," I whisper gratefully, "God, that stuff makes my ears bleed," Penny laughed at my remark. As a general rule, I didn't think anything played on the accordion was music, much less something to dance to.

From the center of the floor, I signal to Tito, letting him know we were ready to start.

Penny twirled instantaneously on the first beat. We break, and she threw her weight into my shoulder. Penny spun again, faster than the eye could see. I tug her arms over our heads and dip her back.

As the melody started, Penny and I lead off with a swivel step, then into and underarm turn for the both of us. Together, we circled the space cleared for us, and in my arms, Penny gracefully turned. Simultaneously, we drop the frame and turn once while styling our arms. We each ran in a semi circle across the floor to met in the center, twirling again as we picked up our frame.

Penny does an underarm turn, and afterwards kicked high into the air while I dipped her, throwing my head back. Together we did a makeshift split, rising up on our toes. After a short spot turn, I twirl Penny twice. I turn once, then twice, and Penny and I sasheyed to they other end of the floor. She kicks, I follow, she straightened, I straightened, my movements a second behind her's.

In place, we go back to the basic steps, and after a beat twirl separately. Penny's foot swirled in the air before me. I toss my head back, feeling her hands on my shoulders.

Then, my friend exploited the flexibility she had as a Rockette, and put her calf up on my shoulder, going limp in my arms. I raise my arm parallel to her leg to hold her steady and drag her to another corner of the room. Penny sat up, and I let her leg fall, spinning her out, the last step before the lift.

Penny ran at me, pink dress swirling chaotically. She jumped, and my hands found her waist, holding her high, and then I bowed, holding her torso parallel to the floor, her leg making a sort of upside down four.

When I set her back down, I see Max Kellerman's insistently giving us the signal to quit showing off and start dancing with other people. Briskly, I adjust my blazer and grab the nearest woman from the crowd, in a white strapless gown.

Mildly, I wonder which poor girl Neil had suckered into dancing with him. I see Penny dancing across the room from me, and I briefly question how long I had to be here before I could get out of this accursed tie and away from all these snobs.


"This is stupid," I mutter to Penny as we stood at the back of the theater. I tug at my bowtie in discomfort. What on Earth could've possessed someone to invent one in the first place was a mystery to me. I wanted to get out of here and back to the staff quarters, where the really fun dancing was.

"Just shut up and watch," Penny hissed, "Maybe then we can get out of here faster," Up onstage, some curly haired girl lay inside a box, getting sawed in half. Judging the expression on her face, I'd say she was none too happy with her situation. I didn't know how Neil had gotten her to do this, by my guess was that this wasn't what she signed up for. The crowd laughed up at her, and I felt a brief sensation of pity for her. I remembered how much Penny had hated doing this last year.

The Magician grinned down at his victim, and in a gleeful tone, said, "This'll only hurt for a minute. You've got Blue Cross, right?" The Magician signaled, and together Stan and him separated the two halves of the box. "Is that good for you?" He questioned he as the crowd applauded, and her pox was put back together.

Soon the poor girl was let out of her box. Despite her clearly wanting to escape the stage due to such humiliation, She was made to stay as Stan ran off and brought back a white chicken with a pink ribbon tied at its neck. I knew what was going to happen, and I knew the girl did, if only because her mortified face had given it away. "And for being such a good sport, here you go," Revolted, the girl pulled away from the bird as the Comedian started cracking jokes, and almost ran offstage.

I pitied the girl, who I didn't think I'd ever see again.