"This way, Miss Fiori; He does not like to be kept waiting..."<br/><br/>Head whipping around at the woman's words, hair temporarily obstructing her vision, Tempest nodded, hastily following suit. Her heart pounding in her chest, a few short breaths tripping out over her lips, she told herself once again that she had nothing to worry about.<span style="font-style: italic">"It's just to get a feel for what you can do, and so you can get a feel for what we aim for,"</span>the director had told her.<span style="font-style: italic">"Nothing too difficult, I assure you. But, I've seen something in you, and I hope you'll consider my offer."</span><br/><br/>Granted, at the time she'd been too awestruck to say much. A few nods here and there with a slightly agape mouth was mainly what she'd offered in reply, shock having riddled her features and stolen her ability to speak. When her words had returned to her, he was long gone, only a business card remaining with the time and place they were to get better acquainted. Had she been alone, there would have been a moment of explicit joy leaving her, most likely in the form of a girlish squeak and some excited jumping.<br/><br/>But she wasn't.<br/><br/>So she didn't.<br/><br/>To be honest, Temp thought she was dreaming; That this would all be over when her landlord rudely banged on her door demanding rent. It was what she expected. Though, with each step she took further into the building, ultimately ending up on the side of the stage as the light's dimmed, her bag falling to the floor at her side...she couldn't keep the smile from pulling at the corners of her lips.<br/><br/>A smile that only further grew when the illuminated figure captured her attention completely.<span style="font-style: italic">It...It can't be...</span>Tempest thought to herself in sheer shock. Of course, she'd seen him perform on television, performances of legend. No move was ever done wrong, every extension to the letter. It was intimidating to see someone so perfect dancing a mere few feet away from her.<br/><br/>Though, something seemed...off. Granted, his moves were perfect, but there was no feeling. No connection. He moved as though he thought of every move as he did it. The music was playing, his body was moving, but his eyes were dead. It was like watching a robot dance: the moves were right, but there was nothing else.<span style="font-style: italic">Cameras did well to hide that, I suppose,</span>she thought idly to herself as the director's voice rang out and the lights came back up.<br/><br/>There is something to be said about meeting one's idol: Don't. They always end up crushing your vision of them. And, Athanase was no different. His Prima Donna act had her inwardly grimacing, her hackles rising as the dancer looked her way with so much contempt. Snippets of their conversation made it back to her, due to the acoustics of the stage, and it was one she almost wish she<span style="text-decoration: underline">hadn't</span>heard. To know that he thought her so beneath him that even merely watching was unimportant, she wanted to smack him.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Doesn't matter what he thinks; It's what the director thinks. He saw something in you, and wants you. He chose you. Just remember that, and you'll be golden.</span><br/><br/>Even her inner monologue had turned a bit snippy, but outwardly, she remained calm, composed. She felt Athanase's anger from her section of the stage, her brow raising and her lips pursing the slightest fraction as the term "welp" came across loud and clear. Who did he think he was? Simply because he was an amazing dancer didn't mean he had to be so inconsiderate to those around him.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Perhaps, if I'm lucky, we won't ever be performing on stage at the same time,</span>Tempest told herself, a glimmer of hope forming as she heard the director calling her over. Stopping just shy of the director, her eyes on his as the faintest of smiles graced his features, she nodded in greeting. Though, whatever residual smile she'd had on her face when entering the performance space soon disappeared at the look of pure hate she received from Athanase. It was a look that was met with one of pure disgust, an exasperated sigh tumbling out over her lips before forcing a smile on her features; a wholly sarcastic smile that resembled a "kill 'em with kindness" sort of sneer.<br/><br/>"I'd say the pleasure is all mine, but I'm sure this is going to be tenuous for us both," she replied to the director's words, though her eyes remained on Ath. "Not sure I can be of much help. Being that I'm merely a...What word did you use? ...Ah yes,<span style="font-style: italic">'welp'</span>...I didn't think we could teach robots to feel. Cold, heartless things, they are."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Athanase sneered, â€œNor can one teach an old cow to dance, yet here we areâ€¦â€ he said looking her over at bit. â€œWhatever natural talent you claim to have, I hope it is better than just some cheap pole act. This is professional dance, not some hoe down, square dance. No one will be tipping you hereâ€¦â€ he looked her over again and huffed, â€œDoubt anyone who would see you here would have anything smaller than a hundredâ€¦no dollar bills for you to shake what you were obviously not given.â€</span><br/><br/>"An old cow dancing on a pole?" she retorted, eyes flashing. "Darling, if I were working on a pole, I'd still earn more than you do doing your robotic moves. Tell me, do you need a little oil in your joints? Looking a bit stiff." Stepping in front of him, only to turn around, whipping her hair in the process, she addressed the director. "Clearly he's too much of a prima donna to get out of his own way and change. How do you expect us to work together?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The death glare he gave to the back of her head was enough to make the director lock eyes with him to silence the retort he knew was coming. â€œI expect you to learn from him how to dance and for him to learn from you to relax his control a bit. The how that is going to occur, well if you two have to spend every waking hour together I donâ€™t care. The show opens in a month and in a monthâ€™s time I want you two on this stage practically soul mates or you are both through. Understand?â€  he waited till he got a nod from them both before he left them to talk. <br/><br/>When the director was out of ear shot Athanase was quick to say the retort he had been stopped from saying by the director, â€œOnly reason you would make such money, would be your whole bang for a buck, revolving door policy. I am sure you have had more experience with things being stiff than I have.â€</span><br/><br/>The director's words were definitely hitting her hard, the real possibility of her being over so quickly one she wasn't going to easily overlook. However, his snide remark behind her back had her stepping back, hard, on his foot, crushing her heel into his arch with a happy smile. She kept it there for a moment before turning back around, an innocent smile on her features. "Oh, I'm sorry...I half expected your ego to save your clodhopper from my step. Surprised it wasn't inflated enough to work that way."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The grimace that he gave her was more from her attitude than the actual pain she had caused him; he would just have to feed a little more tonight to repair the damage she had done. â€œLook first you need to get that chip off of your little back water shoulder,â€ he stepped into her space intentionally, â€œSecondly, you are in my house now and while we are forced to work together you will do what I say when I say it. I refuse to allow you to embarrass me on stage with your sloppy ill-trained body. I worked my entire life for this, it is my life now and your ass is not going to ruin it. Understand?â€</span><br/><br/>"First off, I'm not from some back water hick town," Tempest shot back, eyes narrowing, stepping all the more into his space, so her chest brushed against his own. Her body was taut, tense as she stepped toe to toe with him. "Secondly, while this may be what you think is<span style="font-style: italic">your</span>house, I won't hesitate to make you look a fool and get you out of a job, so how about you get your head out of your ass and come to terms with the fact that your stage is no longer yours alone. Understand?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">Smirking he leaned down so that their noses were nearly touching, â€œLetâ€™s see if you can back up all that talk. Tomorrow night, be here at sun down. I am going to show you what it takes to play in this houseâ€ he winked at her turned to leave.</span><br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Show me what it takes</span>," she repeated, her words wholly mocking of his own as she watched him leave. "...Couldn't show me the broadside of a barn when you can't see past the end of your nose."<br/><br/>Tempest didn't stop him, almost hoping he'd trip on his ego on the way out. Though, when he did finally leave, the silence wrapping around her in a blanket, she took a moment to actually enjoy the stage. Now that his condescending presence wasn't taking away the actual enjoyment of being on such a stage, rather than a crowded, gyrating floor.<br/><br/>Wandering back to her bag, she took out her iPod, slipping the buds into her ears as she let the music fill her. The movements were small at first; A toe sliding across the surface of the floor before she removed her shoes; An arm extending to create beautiful lines. But, as each movement occurred, they grew in size. It was as if the music was speaking through her, telling the story of heartache, of love, of life. Pirouettes and plies, leaps and turns. Nothing overly formal as her training was nonexistent, but wholly reminiscent of the dance she'd watched him perform only moments prior. Deconstructed, passionate. Only those looking for the movements would have noted the resemblance.<br/><br/>As the song drew to a close, she stopped in the middle of the stage, lowering to the floor as if someone deflated her. It was like a death, the death of a dancer in the midst of a lonely stage. She remained there for a moment, even after the music had ended, chest heaving, eyes closed. A small smile slowly pulled at the corners of her lips before rising to her feet and meandering back to the side of the stage to scoop up her belongings.<br/><br/>"...Show me what it takes..." Tempest repeated again as she left the stage completely, making her way toward the exit. "We'll see who shows whom a thing or two."