Author's note: I watched Step Up 3 2 days ago and I HEART MOOSE AND CAMILLE. Do they have a couple name? Coose? Haha. But I wrote this cause I was bored and I hope I didn't go out of character. Review so I know!
This chapter is dedicated to all the people in the same situation as M/C out there. (: You know who you are and so this story is for you. Enjoy!
She doesn't belong.
She feels this, as acutely as she feels beads of sweat trail down her face, clinging to her neck and staining her top. She feels it even as she looks around the room, at the neon coloured dancers who pack the room, whirling and popping to the beat. She knows it even from the confidence the other dancers affect; the way their bodies move so instinctively to the music, the smiles that take over their faces when they do so that suggests that this is where they belong. She thinks this, even as she watches them dance together in a group, him in the centre of all of them, each move coming as naturally as it were for him to breathe.
What is she doing here?
Her name is the first indication of that misfit: a girl with a name like Camille sounds like she should be sitting at home, playing piano and dancing in a well- lit studio with clean, waxed floor and satin pink shoes. Instead here she is, in the basement room of a carnival, with broken, un- cleaned machines all around her, wearing scuffed sneakers and dancing with a crew. And she loves how she is, and can break out of the stereotype of her name. Yet, just watching them, the crew, she thinks sadly to herself- you know they were born to dance, even as Luke always says. Not her. Even though she herself longs to possess half the talent and the gift that these dancers have, she knows she will never. Maybe that's why she stopped dancing. Because she knew, that she could never make it.
Her eyes fall idly over the crowd of dancers to pick out the curly mop of hair that is her best friend. He looks thoroughly unaware of everything, and from the look in his eyes, she knows he is far, far away right now, lost in dance. As always she cannot stop the admiration, the amazement that always wells up in her- at how unbelievably talented he is. And how much she loves him.
It occurs to her then that perhaps the reason why she stopped dancing was because she couldn't stop watching him. That she watched him more than she danced herself.
She tugs at her knot of hair, frustrated. This is her best friend. The boy who she scraped her knees with, the one whom she built a tree house with in second grade, the boy who stood up for her when she was being bullied by the popular girls for not wearing a dress to school. She's known him practically her whole life. Since when did things get complicated?
She is so lost in thought that she doesn't even see him come up and settle himself beside her on the floor. "Hey."
She starts then, looking into the stubble-filled, kind face of their leader, Luke. She's barely talked to him, except for that brief introduction that Moose gave when they'd first met the MSA crew. The way Moose pulled her close to him, his arm around her in that typical Moose fashion and proudly introduced her as his best friend in the whole wide world- and it's a pretty damn big world out there. The way she'd elbowed him in response, cheeks flushing slightly in automatic reaction to how nice it was when he pulled her so close, and how amazingly her small frame always seemed to fit his perfectly. And of course, Luke's raised eyebrow that Moose seemed to miss, and had made her flush even more. Thankfully, they'd started to dance after that, and so, every flush on her face could be explained away. That was the only time she'd talked to him.
"Hey." She tries to cover up her nervousness at being caught so off guard by Luke. "Why aren't you joining them?" As always her eyes stray to where everyone is watching Jacob dance and she can't help but be taken in by the hard hitting moves, the way his body just responds to the beat that for an instant there, she forgets that she is sitting beside Luke and that he is watching her.
"Hmmm," The sound of his voice snaps her back to him. "That's odd."
She feels a silent uh-oh creep all over her body, from the way he is watching her thoughtfully, scrutinizing her almost- and she is struck by how he can see things others can't even without his camera. "What's odd?"
He smiles then, leaning back to prop himself up with his arms, tilting his chin up at her in a silent challenge. "Great dancers don't watch other people- they do the dancing." His eyes catch hers. "They are the ones who get watched." His eyes drift away meaningfully to the crowd on the other side of the room and she bites her lips and looks away.
Luke, their leader, just said she was a great dancer. She, Camille Gage. She tries to wrap this around her mind even as he continues. "So Miss Gage, I think it's time for you to be watched."
His next words cause an even greater surge of surprise and fear even to well up in her- what can he mean by that? "Show us what you have. Even if they don't, I'll watch you. And you'll know that you are good."
The instinctive no is on her lips and she holds out her hands before her to say no but Luke simply shakes his head and in his eyes is a silent challenge she knows she can't refuse. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of her wants to take that challenge, wipe the floor with it, and prove to herself that it's possible that she can, she is a good dancer.
And so she stands.
He has been watching them from the corner of his eye and his puzzlement grows when he sees her stand, Luke still sitting by her. She stands, stretches- and he is struck by her petite frame, as he has been lately when he watches her dance. He watches as she places her feet apart slightly and addresses Luke whose reply causes twin surges of puzzlement and strangely hurt, to rise up in him. What in the world is Luke saying to her? Why is he even there? If he didn't know that Luke was crazy over Natalie, he might have suspected something. He, Moose is Camille's best friend. He should be over there, not Luke.
He catches himself- what's wrong with him? Jealousy is so third grade and he should have learned better from his time with Sophie, the queen of jealousy. And being Moose, he tries to ignore that weird stab of jealousy, and more importantly why he feels it, even as he wanders slowly to their corner of the room.
Her eyes are closed and she is tapping her foot in rhythm to the new beat that is pulsing. He can practically see her body itching to move to it, but yet she stays as she is, as if everything is running through her head and is coming to a climax…
Her eyes snap open.
She steps out, arms cutting through the air and she fan kicks. She spins and she jumps. She moves and shakes and somewhere inside her, she knows- she is dancing. Really dancing. She is vaguely aware that everyone is standing around her now, watching her, cheering her on but their whoops and clapping seem very, very far away. She is lost in her own world, in her own moves, in the melody that her body is making now.
He cannot take his eyes off her.
She always used to say how he was born to dance, but so was she. She just hides it so much better, and he wonders how you can be best friends with someone your whole life and yet not see so much about them. She is electric. She is breath taking in dance.
Vaguely he hears one of the Santiago twins say to him, "Man, your girlfriend can dance!" He knows what should come next, that whole spiel about how no, they are just best friends. Have been their whole lives and therefore she is his girl SPACE friend. Yet he cannot take his attention off her. Perhaps such explanations don't matter right now. Even if they did he can't bring himself to say so.
"Yeah," He murmurs. "She can dance."
Ignoring the looks that his response has generated from the others around him, he steps out, breaking her perfect reverie. Briefly he wonders if he should jump in there, he doesn't want to take her spotlight, but he is relieved from that thought when her face splits in a grin. This isn't the first time they have danced together, but somehow, it's different. It's so much more unrestrained, free, and amazing. He joins her and they mirror each other's move with a telepathy that comes from years of being best friends. They slide together, step, jump and they are flawless. They make melody together.
And it's only when the song sputters to a close that the rest of the crew erupt in cheers and whoops, Luke in the background smiling knowingly to himself and clapping for the both of them. He looks at her, his best friend, sweaty, out of breath- yet she has never been more beautiful to him and he pulls her in tightly and he can hear her laughter through his chest and it sparks off his own laughter- that pure joy that comes from dancing released.
They are walking back to the dorm later, after practice has ended, talking animatedly about their new routine. She seems different somehow to him. More free, more animated, more… alive. He watches as she spontaneously breaks out into a few steps on the pavement, ignoring the bewildered looks from a gentleman walking by. How she doesn't even notice that and just breaks out into laughter.
She has never been so happy.
She knows what it is like now. To dance. After so many years when she just dismissed dance as a high-school thing, it is still there. Inside of her. Waiting to be unleashed. She recalls remnants of that feeling she had when she danced and the thought itself makes her want to dance again and again and again. It is beautiful. It is her. She knows now, that she can dance. And that she is a good dancer. She silently thanks Luke, for teaching her that lesson that she so badly needed.
"So," She looks up at him, "What happened between you and Luke before your," Here he pauses to mimic some of her moves this afternoon and she laughs in response. "Tell me!"
So she does. From her doubts to how Luke told her she was a great dancer. And strangely, Moose is silent when she talks. Unusually so and as she finishes her story, she looks up at him, wondering if somehow this is bothering him and if so why would it. She frowns. "What's wrong?"
He shakes his head. There are so many thoughts running through his mind; how could she think that she isn't a good dancer? How could Luke see that? Why didn't he see that? God, he's a shitty best friend. But before he can try to catch any one of those threads of his thought, he looks up and sees they're back at the dorm already.
"M? What's wrong?"
He looks down at her, smiling then, shaking his head offhandedly. "Nothing."
She shrugs her shoulders then carelessly, "Okay then, this is me. See you tomorrow."
She starts to walk into the building and he watches and suddenly, as if seized by some crazy impulse, he calls, "Cam!"
She turns around and there he is, that mop of crazy hair that she knows and loves, his cap on slightly askew, hands jammed into his pockets, looking straight at her. "You are a great dancer. Believe it."
And just those words that hold such a wealth of sincerity and meaning tip her over. She runs slightly, colliding with him in a huge hug. And she knows now that maybe, this time, he will watch her, even as she has always been watching him. And together they will dance. And they will be amazing together. That thought makes her tighten her arms around him.
He is so proud of her. His best friend… and yet not quite his best friend either. And quickly, almost before he can regret it, he pushes back a part of her hair and kisses her on the corner of her forehead. It is whisper quick, light and insubstantial but it is a kiss nonetheless, she feels it and her whole body jolts awake. He pulls away then, gives her a crooked smile and a two finger salute and walks away, embarrassed almost- but yet, somehow he has that weird feeling it was meant to happen, provoking a smile out of him.
And she too, turns around to walk back into the dorm, a smile on her face and a hand touching that spot on her forehead gently.
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