Dance Academy favourite snippet: answer to Angie’s question…

Angie wrote to me asking: ”do you know what episode the quote “we will never be mates” is from? i can’t seem to find it!”

Here it is:

s2e25 sammy mates 1s2e25 sammy mates 2s2e25 sammy mates 3s2e25 sammy mates 4s2e25 sammy mates 5

series 2 episode 25, when they all have a flash back related to Sammy, and Christian remembers meeting him during audition week. It is near the end, just before Christian speaks at the beach memorial…

 

Thank you so much for your question, Angie, I’m thrilled that you have asked!

Advertisements

Dance Academy Series 1 Episode 8

s1e8 Hayley1s1e8 Hayley2s1e8 Hayley3s1e8 Hayley4

Dance Academy Series 1 Episode 8.

I love the reluctant friendship between these two, especially after what we learn in Series 2 Episode 25 ‘You and me? We will never be mates.’ And see where they got in the end.

And I LOVE Sammy’s sassy come back!

Go Sammy!

 

Dance Academy fanfiction – Closing the Gap – Chapter 5 – Lies

Previously on Dance Academy: Christian may have  been reluctant but he still went for his interview. Afterwards his feet led him to the Samuel Lieberman Memorial studio. Zach, shocked by Christian’s admission that he will not accept the job offer he received, tuck the contract in his trousers and walks off with it.

Lies

I tidy and busy myself till it got dark out. Surely all the interviews are done by now. Everyone knows their fate. And I know mine.

A sharp pull tugs at my stomach. Maybe I should have told them so at the interview. What if Ben could get the place now that I was going to say no to mine? My throat and chest tighten. So much for growing up. Once again I had thought of myself. Me, me and only me.

The wide studio with all its building stuff suddenly becomes claustrophobic, alien, as if it has recognised me for the fake that I am. Me? A teacher?

I freak out a bit, turning into the space desperately looking for something to focus on to still my mind. Where the heck is Zach? He’s been gone for ages. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t very well leave the place open: it would be hollowed out by morning.

I go to get my phone but that’s a daft move. I don’t have Zach’s number. We may have been pally pally all day but it had been a thin and ephemeral as appearances.

I tighten my fists, close my eyes and take some forced breaths. Then I throw a glance at my surroundings again. The floor is clear, the tools are all put away, there is no longer any wires hanging in weird places. There’s nothing left for me to do.

So I rummage through my bag. Nothing to eat. Nothing to drink. I’d rushed out with nothing but some crumpled bits of paper, a chewing gum wrapper, a few battered biros and a mess of crumbs lining the bottom of my rucksack. I fish out the sheets of notepad paper, smooth one and perch on the tool box. Plan. I will plan.

———————————————————————-

Nearly two sheets are filled by the time Zach comes back. By that point I’m not even sure whether I am more angry or relieved. But I have a choice, and that’s not always the case, far from it. Controlling my emotions has never been my forte. I usually act then think and it doesn’t serve me well. For once I have a conscious choice, I might as well make the right one.

‘I’m glad you’re back. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, I couldn’t leave this place all opened up.’

‘Sorry, Christian, I got cornered. But next time you can just go whenever you want, the release is there,’ he points at a button at waist level, ‘and the door is self locking. Just don’t leave anything behind you might need again later.’

‘Okay.’

‘What’s that?’ he asks, pointing at my scrawled up papers.

‘Plans.’

‘For?’

I check his curious expression and seethe at my own stupid assumptions. Who am I to make plans? This is not my place! I clear my throat. ‘Erm, for here, recommendations, really.’

His eyes turn piercing, as if they are rummaging through my brain. Then they soften into casual glancing. ‘Cool, show me.’ He hadn’t been quick enough, the pretence is all ruined by his unguarded first reaction.

He comes to squat beside me, but good luck to him if he thinks he might decipher my handwriting. I go down the most important and urgent points. ‘The barre needs to go into storage. You can’t have it just sitting there. The kids will sit on it, dangle from it, use it as a launch pad, and it hasn’t been designed for stuff like that. I don’t know how insurance works, but I bet they don’t cover for that kind of ”accidental” use.’

Zach laughs. ‘Okay, what next?’

‘I don’t see any music system as yet, and that’s good. You’ll need to have something covered, you know, so that the kids have only access to a slit thing for CD and a dock for MP3s and phones, with stuck on wires if needs be, nothing removable, unless you want it to walk out with the first users.’

‘Wow, I would have never thought of that. You don’t have much trust in your future pupils, do you?’

‘I know where I come-‘ and then his words hit me. ‘My pupils?’

‘What? You expect to teach somewhere else than here? With no qualifications, no one will have you.’ Suddenly the happy banter falls flat and his face grows red around the edges. ‘I mean, I don’t know what your plans are,  I just thought… Well, I’m not even sure if it would be possible, I hope it might be but…’

I focus all my attention on him, my eyes probably as thin as slits by now.

Zach looks at me uneasily, then he rattles his throat. ‘I mean, they’re going to need teachers here, or at least coaches. But that might not be what you want.’ He grumbles some more, getting up and fetching his jacket. ‘I need to close this place before my wife gets into a flap already. Maybe if you give me your list I can have a look at it tonight.’

I stare at the papers in my hand. ‘Or maybe I’ll bring it back tomorrow and run through it with you, I doubt you could read it anyway.’

Zach nods. ‘Fair. Tomorrow, eight o’clock before my first class?’

Apart from going to see Tara, what else would I have to do but pack my things tomorrow? ‘Yep, can do.’

Zach seems far away, lost in thought. I’m not sure he heard me. Eventually, he looks up again. ‘Fine, then we can run through your recommendations.’

His tone is so tight, just like mine had been the first time I had tried to lie to my mum. I had wanted to go to the skate park but it had been already dark. So I told her I had to do homework with one of my mates. She’d seen right through me.

I’d got better with time.

Clearly Zach had had no practice. He is lying, that’s for sure, but what about?

I take my time to get my bag, carefully folding the paper back in, and observe him as he types into his phone. My stomach hardens again. He doesn’t want me here then, not really. All the rest, it’s been lip service. I have no training, I would not teach. He’s right. Who in their right mind would hire me?

‘See ya,’ I say as I head for the door.

‘Hey, Christian, can we swap numbers please, just in case?’

I stare for longer than is polite, then I mumble my number to him. My phone beeps. He’s sent me a text straight away.

‘Now you’ve got mine.’ He hitches his satchel over his shoulder and leads the way out, letting the door slide shut behind us. ‘Tomorrow, eight o’clock. I’m looking forward to it.’ Then he walks away towards the car park.

And I just stand there like a dumbfounded fool.

Series 2 Episode 7- A Choreographed Life

One of my favourite episode, so many emotions!

From super hot kiss…

s2e7 kiss

to Tara getting freaked out by Miss Raine and Christian getting it all wrong and hurt/defensive….

s2e7 paused

to Tara being brave and reaching out to him… so sweet.

s2e7 skipping

But she can’t help it, can she, she has to dig a ‘things need to be perfect’ hole, doesn’t she?

s2e7 flick

And of course, she relies on reason, but sometimes emotions are just to deep, too tough. Poor Tara has a lot to learn.

s2e7 fight

Christian warned her to leave him in peace lest he said something he might regret… But did Tara listen and respected that… oh, no…

s2e7 change

There, he said it.

What an horrendous roller-coaster… they both have so much to learn before they can make this relationship work!

Dance Academy fanfiction – Closing the Gap – Chapter 4 – Memorial

(Based on Series 3 Episode 13)

Previously on Dance Academy – Bridging the Gap: Christian did what he had to do. He got ready, of sorts, turned up for interview and went through the motions, but he is no clearer to what he has to do now…

Memorial

I may have been erring like a lost soul but it only takes to pass by the Memorial Studio for me to know exactly where I was going, and what I’m going to do.

Zach is there, alone, surrounded by plastic wrappings, tape, screws and the bottom half of a barre. The whole place is a mess, with sectioned off areas, tarpaulins and scaffoldings. And yet it’s so inviting, it’s where I want to be. The certitude takes hold of me and dissipates the frustration and the anger that had been churning in my stomach. And I feel lighter. For once I feel right.

‘You’re not gonna get the kids you want with ballet barres.’

Zach looks up and his face becomes alight with excitement, like I’m family, the prodigal son.

‘So?’ He shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hand still on the frame, but his arms stick out. ‘Come on, I wasn’t even that worked up on my own interview day.’

I put my bag down to prepare myself. ‘They changed it to the afternoon.’ The lie comes out so smooth he doesn’t even think it could be untrue. I’m that good at deception.

‘Grab the other end,’ he says.

I take hold of it and lift. ‘Does that make it official, you running the centre?’

The barre slides in its frame with a satisfying and easy click.

‘I told my wife to blame you.’ Zach screws the knob in to secure it. ‘How I’m going to fit it in with everything else, I do not know.’

But I do. He won’t have to do it all, not by himself anyway. ‘It’s worth it. At least it’s gonna be, if you – if you start the kids with hip hop and drip feed them ballet later.’

Zach snorts. ‘You know I wouldn’t recognise a pop from a lock, let alone those armchairs things that you do.’

If only I knew what those armchairs-things-that-I-do are supposed to be, but then he strikes a pause and I have to summon all the respect I hold for the man not to burst out laughing.

So we bust some moves. He learns fast. Of course he does, years of classical training does that to you. You only have to look once to memorise and for your body to translate what it sees into movements.

His attempt on the floor is decent, but it’s amazing how even in a free moving art form as hip hop there are still rules, dictated by physics, not snobs, but rules all the same.

‘That was good, but keep your feet underneath your bum at all times.’

I get a kick out of demonstrating his moves the way they should be done, or at least how I like them done. I have become the teacher. The role reversal is so smooth, so comfortable. This man is strength and humility all wrapped into one.

I end my sequence with a back flip. Zach is duly impressed, but jokes about his back and we get back to work. I lose myself in the simplicity of picking up the mess, tidying cables, sweeping the floors.

‘Christian, you’ve got to go.’

‘It’s cool.’

‘Trust me, this is not an appointment you can be late for.’

Trust. He has earned it, time and again. I will trust him from now on. So I turn round, fetch the folder from my bag and hand it to him. His reaction is priceless.

‘You’re kidding, right?’

I shake my head. No I am not kidding, and I won’t be kidding either when I’ll tell him I don’t want it. It’s his, he got me there. But it’s not my path.

Zach moves faster than I expected. I’m stuck in a bear hug before I can say a word. ‘I told you, didn’t I?’

‘I want you to keep it.’

‘Well, I can’t, it’s a contract, you’ve got to sign it.’

I shake my head again. After the shrugs, this is becoming my signature move for the day.

‘Ah no. No no no no, you’re not walking away, alright, not this time.’ Zach is coming towards me again. But I stand still.

‘I wanna-‘, I am so sure of myself, and yet the words catch in my throat. ‘I wanna work here. I want to teach.’

‘So do ten years in the company then be a teacher.’

Of course what he says makes sense, everyone would say that, everyone. But I’m not everyone, I never was. Here’s the head shake again. ‘I finally know what I want to do, I want to start doing it.’

And that must be compelling enough. Yes, he sighs and looks at me as if I’m mad, but then he just takes one more deep breath, tucks the contract at the back of his shorts, hands me my broom again and leaves with an armful of crates.