Rayyan Ryder greeted the sunrise from the big window of his apartment, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. The exact same way he had greeted every single sunrise for the past month. Lately, he had been living off of four hours of sleep a night, and lots of caffeine, trying to squeeze in as much practice as possible. His livelihood depended on perfection, and he required more time dancing than sleeping to achieve that.
His thumb twitched around on the keyboard of the phone, writing out a message to the fellow members of his dance class that the time had been pushed back, so they had a few extra hours to themselves this morning. What he didn’t include was that the instructor had just walked out of his studio, and needed time to go home, shower, change, etc. Many of the girls had been trying to get at the man since the class had started a few weeks ago, and he didn’t have the heart to tell them they didn’t have a chance.
Once the mass message was sent, he threw back the last bit of his coffee, and set the cup down on the windowsill. He switched playlists on his phone, letting the bouncy pop music give way to dramatic contemporary. The sound was turned down so that he could just barely hear it, so as not to disturb his neighbors. He took a moment to let his body find the beat of the music, swaying back and forth, walking in circles, stretching his arms and pointing his toes.
But once he felt it, that familiar tug in the pit of his stomach, he was off. That compulsion to leap, lunge, fall, twirl, reach, bend, move. There was nothing in the material world that could stop him from following the siren’s call of a good song. His feet grew minds of their own, and his arms took matters into their own hands. On his exterior, he was all business, serious face and clean lines. Internally, he was a child, laughing and grinning and throwing himself about carelessly.
He went through a few artists, James Blake, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, Sleeping at Last, Madilyn Bailey, each with a few tracks on his (current) favorites playlist. When his legs ached, and his chest burned, and his vision swam from too many spins he shut the music off, and hopped in the shower.
He didn’t stay in his apartment much longer. He couldn’t bear it, no amount of dancing indoors would satisfy him. He needed sunshine and fresh air, interaction, life. He dressed, grabbed his duffel bag, and practically ran out the door.
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