Tugger winced as he felt a shudder of soreness pass through his thighs as he lowered himself into the seat next to his brother. After the dance class, Tugger had decided that his brother was a good influence on his life and invited Munkustrap to get lunch with him and Bomb.

"My thighs are killing me." He grunted.

"Rough night?" Bomb ask, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Tugger elected to roll his eyes at her instead of answering the question.

"I remember how I felt after my first day of dance." Munk said sympathetically. "I'm surprised you're walking."

"Have to get places somehow." Tugger grumbled.

"And you still want to come again next week?" Munk laughed.

"Obviously."

"Dance class?" Bomb cut in incredulously. "I thought you gave up that stupid idea."

"Turns out it wasn't a stupid idea." Tugger told her. "You failed to so much as get me a glance of Mistoffelees with your apparently not stupid idea, but following Munk to dance class got me the pleasure of meeting the guy in person and getting told my ass is crooked by the man himself."

"He was subbing Vick's class last week." Munk explained quickly upon seeing Bomb's confusion. "Tugger's hip position wasn't great so he had to straighten him out."

"Tugger I know you're trying to live a healthier life or something, but I really think you're wasting your time with this guy." Bomb began with exasperation. "He's never going to give you the time of day. I can set you up with someone if you're looking for something a little, uh, different from your usual, but this Mistoffelees guy is a lost cause. Every time Dem tries to say hi when she sees him with his sister he ignores her, doesn't even acknowledge her existence. He'll do the same to you."

"I don't know about that." Munkustrap cut in. "I saw him across the street from when I was going to class the other day and he waved back at me when I waved. He can't be that asocial. I've only really met him once and he acknowledges my existence."

"See?" Tugger felt himself puff up at his brother's support. "I do have a chance!"

"Munkustrap don't encourage him!"

"Even if you're right and he can't get through to Misto, Tugs will at least have a new hobby to keep him out of trouble if he keeps coming with me to dance." Munkustrap shrugged.

"It's not just a way to talk to Misto." Tugger pointed out. "It's important brotherly bonding time."

Munkustrap laugh and patted him on the back. Maybe there was something more to this than getting Munk's help to get Mistoffelees. Maybe it was nice not have spent most of the weekend nursing hangovers like he usually did, maybe it was healthier. But the underlying cause of his choices remained the fact that he couldn't get Mistoffelees out of his head.

Despite the front of determined persistence Tugger had put on around Bomb and Munk, Tugger was starting to get frustrated. He had gone to the dance class and gotten Misto to talk to him, but apart from waiting until the next class to try talking again, Tugger couldn't think of anything else he could do to progress things. He felt impatient. He felt restless. Nothing he usually did had the same savor. Playing guitar felt boring, and when he tried to write a song there was no inspiration to be found. He jumped from activity to activity, but nothing could distract him from Misto. Eventually, his apartment began to feel suffocating so he left to wander the campus.

The first place he ended up was the dance building. There didn't seem to be many people around, so he wandered into an empty studio and tried to remember something from the dance class. His results were mediocre to poor. Tugger gave up, and decided to stretch. Maybe the burn in his limbs would distract him. But hardly a minute had passed when some dance students showed up and told Tugger they had the studio booked and he had to leave. His stomach growled loudly as he brushed past them, and he heard a faint giggle as he left. Tugger hadn't even realized he was hungry.

Not thinking too much, he walked towards the closest cafe. More interested in filling the void in his stomach than savoring the food, he ordered in a daze and sat himself down in a corner. Just when he was considering going back to his apartment to eat whatever was in his fridge instead of waiting for his food to come, he noticed a familiar, black-haired head facing away from him just one table over.

"Misto?" Tugger blurted out before he could think of a smoother introduction. He immediately prepared for the embarrassment of the person not being Misto. He wished he had walked around to confirm it actually was him before shouting it out- but just as he was bracing himself for a wave of awkwardness, the person turned and he was met with the face he had been longing for all day.

"Oh, uh, hi." Misto replied. Tugger was pleased to see the initial confusion in his eyes flicker into recognition.

"So uh," Tugger began, mentally cursing himself for his tongue-tiedness. He had been so focused on figuring out how to get Misto to talk to him that he hadn't actually thought about what he would say. "How's your day?"

"Oh, you know." Misto shrugged, glancing down at the half-finished sandwitch on the plate in front of him. "Just, uh, eating."

"Yeah, same." Tugger nodded. "I uh, tried to practice some things from your class earlier." Tugger said awkwardly. Misto's eyes seemed to brighten with what Tugger hoped was interest. "I was in the dance building and a studio was open so I just gave it a try. Couldn't remember much of it though, it's all pretty new to me."

"We'll see how you do in class next time then." Misto said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Don't get your expectations too high." Tugger said quickly. "I'm still the most beginner of beginners." He paused, to take a breath. "Maybe you could give me a private lesson some time to help me catch up." Tugger hoped it wasn't too forward.

"Maybe." Misto said. Tugger let out the breath he had been holding. "I have to go. See you around."