“I think I screwed up.” Jensen said as he jumped up to sit on the counter in the bakery. Danneel hit him as she tried to get him to move off her work space.
“Jensen, I’m trying to work here. If you’re going to bitch and moan, at least do it while you make and tray up cookie batter. I’m on a schedule, and you sitting there on my bench top, while I’m trying to use it, is not helping.” Danneel said as she sat a bag of flour on the bench next to Jensen.
Jensen reluctantly slipped off the bench, and produced a huge takeaway cup of coffee for his childhood friend. She let out a smile and a sigh of relief as she swallowed the coffee, her gaze sweeping over him the way it always does. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just for something out of the ordinary. When she was satisfied that everything was ok, she took her eyes off him and looked at the list of cookies, cakes and pastries that still needed to be made.
Jensen, appearing to read her mind, grabbed a chocolate gnash stained apron, and tied it around his waist. It wouldn’t stop his t-shirt from getting dirty, but at least his jeans wouldn’t be ruined. He and his friends knew better than to wear anything ‘decent’ to the bakery/coffee shop when Danni was there.
He pulled a mixing bowl towards him, along with the bag of flour, and a smaller bag of cocoa. As he measured the ingredients and placed them in the mixing bowl, he could feel Danni watching him as she made a batch of mud cake mix.
They worked in silence until Danni couldn’t stand it anymore. “Ok, what did you screw up? You’ve only been back in school for less than a week, and you still have your job and your apartment. I’m drawing a blank here Jen.”
Jensen cackled. “Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.” It was true. They had made a batch of mud cake mix, and the cakes were in the ovens, the chocolate cookies Jensen had made were cooked and cooling on the racks, and Danni was making pastries while Jensen made custard.
“Ha ha. I know you didn’t come here just to help me cook Jensen. You already have a job. So, spit it out.”
Jensen sighed as he finished the custard and put the bowl aside for Danni to use later. “There’s this kid, and I met him last week. In the dance studio.”
“Ok.” Danni said slowly. “I’m not seeing a problem yet.”
“I told him his dancing was nothing overly special.” Jensen looked down at his hands. “Ouch” he yelled when he felt Danni hit him on the head with a wooden spoon, thankfully clean, hard. “What was that for?!”
“Why would you tell this guy that his dancing was nothing special? You’re an idiot!” Danni said before she started to pour the custard into the tart cases.
“I didn’t mean to be cruel or hurt his feelings or anything, but I was telling the truth. He’s a ballet dancer, majoring in dance, and Jeff’s going to tear him apart. He’s got no passion, no reason to dance. It’s like he does it because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.”
Danni turned to look at him after she put the custard tarts into the oven to finish cooking. “I’m sure you thought you were doing him a favour, especially if you think Jeff’s going to be so hard on him, but I bet he didn’t see it that way.”
Jensen shook his head slowly. “No. He ran out on me and every time I’ve even caught a glimpse of him this last week, he’s practically run in the opposite direction. What do I do Danni?” Jensen lowered his head to rest in his hands
Danni threw her arms around him in a hug, careful not to get pastry mixture all over him. “Let him come to you. He will. Eventually.”
Jensen could just nod his head and hope she was right and that he would get the chance to explain to Jared what he meant.
“Jared, can I speak to you a moment?” Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Jared’s dance instructor called out to him as he finished his stretches.
Jared nodded his goodbyes to his fellow students and made his way over to Jeff; sure that he was going to be told he was very, very good. It was what all his other teachers had said, and he was used to playing humble. “What’s up Jeff?”
“Why are you dancing Jared?” Jeff asked his student as he sat on a bench along a wall. He motioned for Jared to sit, and he sat on the floor and continued to stretch out his legs. His hamstrings were really tight lately.
“What do you mean Jeff?” Jared asked confused. He was expecting praise, not questions.
“Just what I said. Why do you dance? What makes you dance?” Jeff leaned his elbows on his thighs, and sat watching as his student pondered the question.
“I’ve always danced. I always wanted too. Ever since my little sister started. I was 7 when Megan had her first dance lesson, and I’ve been dancing ever since.”
“But what makes you dance? Do you do it out of love? Or pleasure? A way to stroke your ego? A way to vent your emotions?”
Jared looked confused. “I dance because I dance. Because I always have done. When others were playing baseball I was dancing. When my friends were going on sports camps over the summer I was dancing. It’s all I’ve ever done. Why?”
“Jared, you have no reason to dance, and it shows through your performance. There’s no fire in your moves, they’re just moves.”
“Now you sound like Jensen.” Jared muttered under his breath.
“Jensen Ackles?” Jeff asked in surprise. “Yeah, he’s great, a brilliant dancer, so much fire in him, and so much presence on stage. But he dances because he wants to, because he loves it, because he doesn’t know how not to. Pity I couldn’t get him to actually train properly. Decided to go and get himself a sports science and physical therapy degree and ‘put together the dancers I pull apart’. His words, not mine.” Jeff said with a chuckle at Jared’s look of horror.
“He doesn’t know a thing about dancing. He’s got no training, no technique.” Jared muttered, talking to the floor.
“Jared.” Jeff waited until Jared looked at him. “Technique doesn’t make a dancer. Talent and passion, they make a dancer. Hell, they make anything. Talk to him. He might be able to help you out.”
Jeff stood up and waited until Jared had done the same, handing him a business card.
Specialising in Jazz, Hip Hop, and Contemporary.
“What’s this?” Jared asked.
“My wife’s business card. Go and see her. Take a few dance lessons that aren’t graded. Those classes that are a bit of fun. See if we can find that spark that made you want to start dancing all those years ago.” Jeff turned and walked towards the door. “Oh, and Jared. No ballet or I will fail you on principle.” Jeff walked out the open door, leaving a very confused, and dumbstruck student standing in the, now empty, studio.
“Do you think I’m a bad dancer?” Jared asked Chad as he flopped backwards onto his bed, Sam Ferris’ business card held lightly between his fingers.
“Huh?” Chad asked eloquently, pulling his head from a textbook on his lap.
Jared sighed. “My dance teacher told me I was a bad dancer.”
Chad closed his textbook, careful to slip his pen inside to mark his page. “Did he say that or is that what you’re interpreting it as?”
Jared just looked at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be my friend and just tell me my dancer teacher’s an ass?”
“Fine! Your dance teacher’s an ass. And so’s my football coach for making me have strength and conditioning practice at 5 in the morning. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “I hate that you’re smarter than people give you credit for.”
“Hey!” Chad yelled in indignation. “I can smoke pot and drink booze as well as the next guy.”
“Yes, but the next guy probably isn’t studying pre-med.” Chad looked thoughtful for a second before grinning. “Anyway... do you think I’m a bad dancer?”
“Jared... I’ve never seen you dance. What exactly did your dance teacher say to make you think you’re a bad dancer?”
“He said I have no passion and then gave me this.” He tossed the card to Chad who plucked it out of the air. “He told me to find some other form of dance, and to do something that will ignite my passion. Whatever the fuck that means.”
Chad shrugged as he turned on the TV and Xbox, grabbing 2 controllers. He tossed one at Jared, before sitting on his bed and starting up the game. Jared just looked at the controller, then at the game. “What the hell is this?”
Chad just stared at him. “Please tell me you know what Madden is. Please?” Jared shook his head, shame making his cheeks turn pink. Chad turned the game off before throwing the controller on his bed. He made his way to Jared’s bed, throwing himself next to his roommate. “I think this is what he means Jared. You know basically nothing about anything unless it’s about dance. Ballet in particular. I’ve never even heard you mention any other sport. Or movies you like. Or any interest other than dance.”
Jared sighed in embarrassment. “I don’t really have any other interests other than dance. It’s all I’ve ever done. And to have Jeff tell me that my dancing isn’t special... I just... I don’t really know what to do about that.”
“So takes Jeff’s advice. Take a dance class for fun. Do something that’s not what you would usually do. Take a salsa class, or street dancing class.”
“Be like Jensen you mean?”
“The guy from last week?” Jared nodded. “Maybe you need to talk to him. Ask him about why he dances, what he does for fun.”
Jared sighed. “Ok. Tomorrow I’ll go and apologise. Then I’ll ask him for his help.”
Chad grinned. “Good. Today though, we’ll start on your non dance education. Lesson one. Xbox!”
Jared could only smile at his friends’ enthusiasm.
- Where I Am:home
- How I Feel: creative
- What I'm Listening To:You Make Me Feel - Cobra Starship