*~*~*
Now That I Can Dance
*~*~*
Chapter Two
The Dancing People
Baby
I don't know how this happened, but somehow I ended up dancing with Max's grandson. And dancing with Neil is about as fun as getting the proverbial root canal.
This is really my problem. I can never say no, and now here I am dancing with a boy who enjoys talking about hotel management more than anything else. The dance floor is covered in shades of gray, mediocre dancers maneuvering clumsily through the Mamba. And the worst part?
I'm one of them.
Just another doctor's daughter in the Kellerman's bubble, waiting for my life to begin. Dancing with a waiter who was somehow thrust upon me, because I'm the good girl and I can't refuse. I feel a little like I'm outgrowing my role as the daddy's girl. I want to see what's outside, to see for myself whether I like it or not instead of just being told.
And suddenly two beautiful creatures run to the center of the room and begin to dance. You can tell just looking at them that they don't belong at Kellerman's; everyone else retreats to give them space to dance. And dance they do.
The woman is blond and limber, dancing as if this is the last dance before the world ends. She is wearing a backless pink dress, the kind of dress I would draw on a fairy princess when I was little. And the man, the man in black. He looks familiar. Of course! He's the man I saw last night at the main house. Who would have thought he could dance like that? Who would have thought he could do anything like that? (More precisely, how can I make the world a better place if I look down so much on people less educated than me, people I consider myself to be better than? How can I make the world a better place if I only help people because I pity them?)
They move to the music as if that is their purpose in life. They blend together, and the rest of the world melts away for them, for me. I can't take my eyes off them-never has anything looked so pure, so true.
"Who are they?" I ask dumbly, unable to look at Neil, even.
"Oh, them. They're the dancing people," he says flatly, "they're here to keep the guests happy."
And I cannot believe he is saying such a thing, but then, that is how I think too. They are the dancing people. We are not, we are better, we are in the Kellerman's bubble.
Something happened; they part, get other partners. It is over. These beautiful people who can do something better than I can ever hope to do anything are gone. Now they are the staff, never a part of the Kellerman's bubble, but still obligated to abide by its rules. But for a brief second, they were gods.
Now That I Can Dance
*~*~*
Chapter Two
The Dancing People
Baby
I don't know how this happened, but somehow I ended up dancing with Max's grandson. And dancing with Neil is about as fun as getting the proverbial root canal.
This is really my problem. I can never say no, and now here I am dancing with a boy who enjoys talking about hotel management more than anything else. The dance floor is covered in shades of gray, mediocre dancers maneuvering clumsily through the Mamba. And the worst part?
I'm one of them.
Just another doctor's daughter in the Kellerman's bubble, waiting for my life to begin. Dancing with a waiter who was somehow thrust upon me, because I'm the good girl and I can't refuse. I feel a little like I'm outgrowing my role as the daddy's girl. I want to see what's outside, to see for myself whether I like it or not instead of just being told.
And suddenly two beautiful creatures run to the center of the room and begin to dance. You can tell just looking at them that they don't belong at Kellerman's; everyone else retreats to give them space to dance. And dance they do.
The woman is blond and limber, dancing as if this is the last dance before the world ends. She is wearing a backless pink dress, the kind of dress I would draw on a fairy princess when I was little. And the man, the man in black. He looks familiar. Of course! He's the man I saw last night at the main house. Who would have thought he could dance like that? Who would have thought he could do anything like that? (More precisely, how can I make the world a better place if I look down so much on people less educated than me, people I consider myself to be better than? How can I make the world a better place if I only help people because I pity them?)
They move to the music as if that is their purpose in life. They blend together, and the rest of the world melts away for them, for me. I can't take my eyes off them-never has anything looked so pure, so true.
"Who are they?" I ask dumbly, unable to look at Neil, even.
"Oh, them. They're the dancing people," he says flatly, "they're here to keep the guests happy."
And I cannot believe he is saying such a thing, but then, that is how I think too. They are the dancing people. We are not, we are better, we are in the Kellerman's bubble.
Something happened; they part, get other partners. It is over. These beautiful people who can do something better than I can ever hope to do anything are gone. Now they are the staff, never a part of the Kellerman's bubble, but still obligated to abide by its rules. But for a brief second, they were gods.