Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. Enough said.
Thanks you to all my reviewers – I didn't think anyone would really be interested in this story, but I guess I was wrong, which makes me very happy. And just a little clarification, I know that Tea's dream is to study dance in New York City, but at the time I was writing, London sounded a little more appealing : )
"No, no, no!" Camille Dupree, one of Livingston's most qualified dance instructors, spoke angrily. "It is all wrong. Every. Single. Last. Bit. This is not dancing! Where is the rhythm? Tell me; is this class utterly incapable of following the music? How do you all expect to make something of yourself when you are careless, messy, and altogether lazy? Why do you all even call yourselves dancers? I certainly cannot see the talent! Livingston is supposed to be prestigious and yet you all were admitted. Bah! Hear me! You must worker harder. You must push yourself to your limits – and then push yourself further. Set new limits. Or fail. That's the way it works in the world of dance."
As Camille emphatically gave her speech, the student dancers in the room tittered uncomfortably. Up until this day they had believed that they were extremely talented and now suddenly they were being told just how amateur they were. The thing that bothered the students immensely was that this was the first dance class they ever had at Livingston; they were completely new to the expectations of the school, and yet that seemed irrelevant. It was as if they were supposed to be completely adjusted already, but that was far from the case.
"You there -" Camille pointed with a slender finger as she arched her perfectly shaped right eyebrow, "girl in the front with the short brown hair."
Tea looked around to see who else she could be pointing at, but she realized that Ms. Dupree was in fact pointing at her. "Um . . . me?" She squeaked out tensely; of all the things in the world that Tea couldn't stand, right at the top of the list was being singled out in a room full of her peers – especially being singled out when she was the focus of someone's anger or annoyance.
"No not you. No, you see, I was talking about the girl with the blonde hair on your right or perhaps the redhead on your left." she said as Tea stood twitching her fingers, her face burning with embarrassment at Camille's biting sarcasm. "Now that we have that little misunderstanding cleared up, tell me, Ms.?"
"Tea Gardner." Tea interjected.
"Good. Tell me, Ms. Gardner, why are you at Livingston? Why do you deserve to be here when you obviously cannot dance?"
"I-I . . . I'm here because . . . because I love to dance."
"Oh very smooth, Ms. Gardner." Camille said with a venomous laugh. "You have just succeeded in giving me the most banal, asinine and cliché answer there is to my question. Of course, I know that you love to dance, otherwise you'd just be a fool to be here at a school for dance."
"I'm sorry . . . it's just that . . ."
"Excuses, excuses, Ms. Gardner – I won't tolerate them."
"Of course, Ms. Dupree," Tea said quietly as tears of frustration started to form in her eyes, causing her throat to close up and her voice to become hoarse.
Hearing Tea's voice, Camille turned back around to face her. "No tears are allowed, Ms. Gardner. You will feel worse pain than my comments to you; I can guarantee this. You may dance some night on stage and you will be in pain. Your feet may bleed into your shoes, but you will not stop. You will dance through the pain, unless you decide now to go back to your home and give up this dream of yours. Is that what you want?"
"No." Tea said, closing her eyes and pressing her lips together in an attempt to grasp some form of strength.
"All right then; let me give you a piece of advice. If you want to make it in this world where competition will creep into every aspect of your life, then you better toughen up. If you cry at my comments, you will crumble when you face auditions where the judge will rip you to shreds. They will criticize you and they will make you feel worthless, but you cannot cry because if you do, you will never succeed. You will wallow in self-pity and self-pity leads to inaction. And you know that inaction is failure. So, there will be no more tears ever again. Understood?"
"Right. No tears. I understand." Gritting her teeth, Tea squared her jaw and lifted her head. Tears were for the weak. She did not give up her life in Domino City to be told she would fail; she came to London to make something of herself and she'd be damned if she came all this way for nothing.
"Good." Camille brusquely turned away and faced the rest of the class again. Clapping her hands twice she called, "Now. Let's dance this time."
Watching her students, Camille took great notice of their form and ability. She herself was a world renowned dancer of both ballet and modern dance, and over the years she had developed the skill for determining who had what it took to be a dancer – who had the drive and characteristics necessary to be successful in the world. Scanning the room, she mentally smiled at a svelte girl with black hair and an equally trim blonde who were dancing to the music better than the other girls, with the exception of Tea.
Tea was something completely different. From the moment she'd walked into the class Camille had known that she could be better than great. Tea could be 'it', which was why she had chosen to pick on the girl in class. She could see that the girl had the ability, but she just needed to toughen up. Ms. Gardner, in Camille's mind, needed to lose some of her innocence and become more sophisticated and secular. She needed to get a look about her that had edge and then, she just may become something; she just may take the dance world by storm and intoxicate and intrigue them all. But frankly, the only way Camille knew how to give Tea this look was by toughening her up was with harsh comments and then by instilling a few drops of self-doubt into her that would force her to work harder and be better.
Tipping her head slightly and narrowing her eyes Camille suddenly called out, "You there. Redhead. Second row. Stand by the wall. Brunette. Third row. By the wall as well." And thus in this way, Camille forced the less talented students to watch the more talented until only the three girls who had captured her attention remained: Tea, the raven-haired girl, Liya, and the blonde, Collette.
Tea furrowed her brow as she concentrated on the dance steps she'd been forced to learn only an hour and a half earlier. And while Tea usually could pick up choreography fairly easily, today her mind was overwhelmed . . . with Livingston, homesickness, and after Camille's comments, self doubt. Slowly, Tea's mind slipped away from thinking about the dance and to thoughts about Domino City. She began to remember last Christmas when she'd invited Joey, Tristan, and Yugi to her house for a holiday get together, complete with great food, great movies, and great music. But most of all, Tea remembered how at one point during that evening, she'd slipped to her bedroom to get the presents for her friends out of her closet. She remembered how when she'd gotten up off the floor with the wrapped boxes in tow, she'd turned around to find Yami (who she had yet, at the time, to become comfortable around), not Yugi, standing in the doorway, looking at her quietly and contemplatively.
"Yami . . . hi."
"Tea." Yami said affably with a brief nod of the head.
"So . . . what are you doing here?"
"Joey and Tristan thought that you might need a hand getting their presents -"
"But they were too lazy to get them themselves, right?" Tea asked laughingly.
"No – they seemed rather immersed in something on the television."
"Oh. Um –"
"Here, allow me to help you." Yami gestured with his hands for her to give him the boxes.
"Oh – right. Thanks." Handing him a couple of the presents, Tea's hand brushed Yami's for a split second. Automatically she lifted her gaze to his and her eyes widened as she saw him steadily looking at her while showing no signs of discomfort. Jerking her eyes away, she looked out her bedroom window and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw an escape from this awkward moment. "Look Yami – the first snow of this winter - and on Christmas, at that. Isn't it beautiful?"
"It is." Yami said simply as he leaned closer to Tea to get a better look out the window.
"Hey ya guys – where's my present? I've been waiting forever!" Joey called from the living room.
"If you're in such a rush to get your present, why don't you get off your lazy ass and get it yourself?" Tristan muttered in an irritated tone.
"Ahhhhh, just shut it, Tristan." Joey threw back.
"We'd better get out there before they kill each other," Tea said, laughing nervously.
"I suppose you are correct," Yami said as he motioned for Tea to leave the room before him. As she walked to the door, she felt Yami's hand lightly rest on her lower back as he guided her courteously from the room. Shivering slightly she-
Jerking away from her too pleasant memory of Yami, Tea focused again on her dancing, but when she lifted her eyes, she was met with the gaze of Ms. Dupree who was watching her with steely narrowed eyes. The intense look shook Tea immensely and in a panic, she realized that she had forgotten the last part of the dance. Horrified, Tea's steps became less sure and she began to shake uncontrollably. With her mind in distress, she stumbled and felt her ankle turn, causing a wave of pain to shoot up her leg and making her face contort in a grimace of pain.
Gripping her leg, Tea listened in shame as she heard Camille say curtly, "Gardner. Wall. Now."
"Do you think she's happy?" Yugi asked one night.
"In time, I suppose she will be." Yami replied meditatively.
"What do you mean by 'in time'?"
"Yugi, you must understand that Tea is far from home. It will take time for her to adjust."
"I guess you're right . . . but I still don't understand why she hasn't called anyone more than twice in the two weeks that she's been gone. Do you think she's already forgotten us?"
Shaking his head slightly, Yami simply said, "Do not worry yourself too much; I am certain that Tea has not forgotten anyone." Internally however, Yami questioned the truth in his response. He, like Yugi, could not help but wonder why Tea had not kept in touch better, especially when she so emphatically had declared she would. Try as he might, Yami simply could not brush her broken contact off as a result of being busy. Something was wrong.
"What's wrong now?" Mai sighed as she felt her aggravation flare up.
"What makes ya think something's wrong?" Joey countered, his tone dejected.
"Fine then. You want to be a child. I get it," she said in exasperation.
"Right – glad to hear that you're finally letting up on me. Let's just play the game, okay?"
"Mmhmm," Mai agreed shortly.
Looking down at her Duel Monsters deck of cards, her eyes narrowed as she pondered the next move to make in her game against Joey. Smiling broadly, her eyes lit up and she declared, "Get ready to lose, Wheeler." With those words she played a Harpie Lady card and then revealed her face down card, which allowed her to play two other Harpies. Before Joey could find a way to counteract, Mai had already depleted him of his life points and he'd lost.
"Well, who's the loser now? It's not me, that's for sure!" Mai laughed, but the musical sound faded as she watched Joey get up from the table and move to the window in the kitchen, his form hunched over and tired looking. Laying her cards aside, Mai stood up and went to stand next to him. "Okay, Wheeler – spill."
"I'm not in the mood for this now, Mai."
"Look, Joey, I'm fed up with your attitude. You stand around moping and acting sorry for yourself and it is pathetic! Get a grip!"
"You just don't get it Mai. To you everything is so simple. Win. Lose. Black. White. Do you even know what it's like to feel? You're so obsessed with yourself and what's good for you that you just can't see what's going on. People can't work the way you want them too every moment of their life! You got it?"
Mai's mouth fell open slightly as Joey's words entered her ears. She couldn't help but feel slapped in the face; here she was trying to help him buck up and he was telling her that she was obsessed with herself. How dare he . . .
Mai felt her hurt give way to anger. No one spoke to her that way – no matter what the situation. Narrowing her eyes, she retaliated, "You've got some nerve, Joey; I'll give you that. But you know what? How dare you go off on me. I'm trying to help you out here. I'm trying to give you a chance to quit being so tough so that you can tell someone what the hell has been up with you for the past three months. But you know how you repay me? You tell me that I'm up on some high-horse and am unsympathetic to you! So you know what? I'm done, Wheeler. I tried, and now I'm done trying. I'm leaving. And maybe when I'm gone, you'll get off of your high-horse and stop blaming your problems on every other person but yourself."
"Mai, wait-" Joey started, but it was too late. Mai had already walked out of the house, slamming the door tersely as she left.
Rubbing his hair, Joey shrugged off her departure and turned to go to the living room to watch some T.V. On his way out of the kitchen, he stopped short when he saw Serenity leaning against the doorframe, her brows furrowed in concern.
"Joey, you really should go apologize to Mai," she said quietly.
"Why should I apologize to her? She's the one who went off on me. If anything, she should come over here to apologize," Joey said, working himself into a frenzied state. "She's the one who was rude. She's the one who needs to get a grip . . . she had some nerve telling me that I was on a high-horse, telling me that I needed to get a grip. She pretty much called me selfish. Hmph."
"Joey?"
"What is it now, Serenity?"
"This is about Tea . . . isn't it?"
Lifting his gaze to hers, he simply retorted, "Do you even need to ask?"
