
Alex, Leon, and Geradon entered. “Good morning!” Alex beelined for the coffee maker, grunting pleased at finding a full carafe.
“Good morning, Butler,” Matadon said.
Aaron got the feeling that Matadon was seeing to Aaron having time with Dawdon, and he appreciated it. “Are you going to the Natural Beauties today?” Aaron asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Matadon mumbled, apparently having forgotten that. He rose and grabbed the coffee, walking around the breakfast bar and topping people off.
“We plan to,” Geradon said.
“Are you?” Dawdon asked.
“I think it’s important,” Aaron said.
“You spend a lot of time there, too, right?” Geradon said.
“What value would I be able to bring?” Matadon asked.
“There’s someone who wants to learn ballet,” Aaron said.
“We seriously need to get going,” Dawdon said. “Our lead is at the other end of the House.” He leaned over, pulled Aaron in, and give him a kiss. “I’ll text you,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” Aaron grinned goofily.
“See ya!” the two called out as they hurried from the kitchen.
Matadon grinned into his coffee mug.
The breakfast project commenced, and Aaron helped out.
By ten thirty, Aaron and Matadon arrived at the studio with Guard Lady Artidin. They were both in their dance clothes already, and they’d chatted about the choreography on their way there because Aaron wanted those power moves to have a central spot. Not that he’d be able to teach it for a while because he had to learn it first, and he obviously couldn’t get a Lord to be a teacher there, considering Matadon would soon get a proper assignment to add value to the House’s Cu’Boka.
“Oh, gods.” Matadon squeezed his eyes shut, but he was grinning.
“Roughly the same, then, yet I seriously haven’t danced in heel since forever and never anything like that.” Matadon pointed to Aaron’s bag. He’d brought a few pairs, so he picked them out and handed a black pair to Matadon, who squinted at them, yet he tried one on. “If my feet swell from this, we need a bigger size.” He zipped up the boot and put on the other one.
“Yeah.” Aaron pointed to the end wall where they were neatly lined up in a rack. He put on the white boots and got up to join Matadon.
“Anything with hips.” Aaron turned to face the mirror, and Matadon joined him, lining up and looking curious. “I like how they accentuates my long legs.” Aaron took a pose he’d learned brought him positive attention on the stage.
“Well, it’s obvious where you got those from.” Matadon took the same pose, testing out the right tilt of hips and sway of the back. Looking at them side by side and in the mirror, Aaron noticed that they resembled each other a lot. But not their facial features.
It prompted an idea, so Aaron went to stand right next to him, still looking at their reflection.
“What?” Matadon stood straight next to Aaron.
“Well, he can, but it’s not with the fluidity and confidence you bring.” Matadon grabbed Aaron’s shoulders and turned them both so that he stood behind Aaron. They looked at each other from the side. Matadon stepped closer, guiding Aaron’s arms up in front, giving them a better view.
Aaron did, noticing they didn’t have a lot of synchronization work ahead of them to pull off a twin dance. He felt increasingly excited.
The door opened, and the dance team entered, chatting.
Dammit. Aaron’s mind was completely wrapped up in his and Matadon’s idea. He smiled because they’d found something to work on together, though. They had something to bond over. He’d never had that with Dan. Now he knew why, and he felt less afraid that Matadon would find it easy to dump him, considering he’d never been apart of his life.
“A Lord?” Miguel asked.
Freydon grinned, looking happy on Aaron’s behalf that they’d found a commonality to build upon.
“Cool!” the dance team said.
“Not in those.” She pointed to the stilettos.
“I like you already, young lady.” Matadon had enough balance to take the boots off while standing.
Aaron grinned and looked at his team. Other than Daniel, it had been a completely human and non-dosing team. He hoped they wouldn’t mind a feeding Cubus among them.
They trained until one o’clock, having fun with bringing in a new one to learn Bao’s cultural dancing. As alluded to, Matadon was a festive guy, and he laughed a lot—especially at his own mistakes. He caught salsa pretty quickly, and he and Miguel danced well together.
Dawdon and Geradon arrived about thirty minutes before the training ended, and they sat on the floor at one end and watched as the team counted out the choreography to no music.
As per usual, the dance team ended up sitting on the floor and talked about the day.
“Round of feedback,” Aaron said.
“Genes are easy here,” Miguel said. “I vote for the Lord to be on the team.” His hand shot up. The others followed.
“So, next time, we’re going to learn the bboy part?” Miguel asked.
“I think we’ll try to come up with something for then, right?” Aaron looked at Matadon.
“What’s the difference between the three?” Miguel asked.
Aaron thought the slow part looked ridiculous, but the full speed added the fluidity that made it look coordinated. Adding a mental beat, it looked like dancing, and not someone having a seizure on all fours. Bboying was so not Aaron’s style, but he’d never limit his repertoire.
Apparently, training wasn’t over. The team found spots and slowly counted out what they remembered. Aaron joined in, and Matadon walked around, watching, patiently correcting, and going over the rhythm and moves with everybody individually. He was a pretty good teacher.
“I see what you mean about strength needed here.” Aaron certainly felt muscles strain and burn from holding his own weight and shifting it like that.
They crawled back to the circle and Aaron’s phone, and the others joined them. They plotted in two more trainings that week and three dance classes and training days the following week.
“I’ll work on a playlist for the bboy choreography,” Matadon said.
“Work with Bao. She’s our music wiz,” Aaron said.
“Why?” Bao asked.
Aaron smiled, happy they’d found a team member who took it seriously. They’d started out fifteen. Now they were six because the rest of them kept prioritizing other plans. The ones left scheduled dancing rigorously—even practiced between classes. Aaron had wondered whether he was too anal retentive as a trainer, but he’d decided that he was allowed to be as the one running a dance studio. He was supposed to be the driven one, pushing students a bit toward excellence.
The students left, and Aaron smiled at Dawdon and Geradon, who joined Aaron, Matadon, and Freydon. Dawdon sat close to Aaron and leaned in for a kiss. He then handed Aaron an envelope.
Matadon put them out next to each other on the floor in front of him and stared at them. The marketing one seemed so professional it didn’t hold a lot of personality, but Aaron liked it because he thought it caught a good side of him. The other two held way more, and the candid was of Aaron and Daniel being goofy teens, sitting on the floor and snickering immaturely at a stupid idea that Aaron had since forgotten the details of.
Again, Matadon stroked Aaron’s face on the photo, smiling. Aaron thought it was a sweet gesture.
“Did we settle on something?” Freydon asked.
“I still think we need the t-shirts with the street cut Daniel made,” Aaron said.
They left the dance studio and headed for provision, shopped clothes, got the frames, and Matadon ordered a massage bench, promising he’d take good care of the dance team.
Aaron felt ridiculously happy and looked forward to new training. Now he just wished Daniel would stream the recital.Politico had a great article on a woman named Rachel Bitecofer whose radical theory of why people get elected is that, contrary to accepted wisdom of there being a stable base of voters with about 20% swing voters who the politicians compete over, but that people are motivated by negative partisanship and what changes between elections is who decides to turn out and what motivates them to so. The reason that Obama swept the White House and the Democrats took Congress was because of all of the negative partisanship that had built up towards George W. Bush. She speculates that Trump won in 2016 largely because Democrats didn’t believe Trump could win, but also weren’t sufficiently motivated to vote for Hillary because, well, it’s Hillary Clinton. This apathy caused a lot of non-Trump voters to stay home.

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