[VicFuentes] Dance, If It Moves You

Six.

“How very little can be done under the spirit of fear.” – Florence Nightingale

Third Person.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, the guys told her that it was a good idea, which she should simply think about it as a way of helping out friends, but they're not her friends, she barely knows them, it’s not like that at all. Helping out friends would be watching Ken while Mitch took Jolie out for a date, or listening to Austin complain about Crissy ruining his friendships, that’s what she did for her friends, practical things, things that didn’t involve getting herself into uncomfortable situations; it just wasn’t how she worked, ever, it scares her, she’s not okay with doing things that she’s not used to doing.

Combing her fingers through her hair, realizing that she should have probably tied her hair back in a ponytail, she sighs as the person beside her tells her that she only has thirty seconds before she goes on stage. It’s not that she doesn’t want to help Vic, deep down she knows that she does, there’s just something about him that makes her heart skip a beat and her stomach constrict with bliss, she hates it, she wants it to go away, but she couldn’t say no to his request if she tried. Mark thinks she should just let things happen, that she should stop trying to plan everything, to map everything out, it’s not healthy he tells her, but she doesn’t listen, that’s what she does; it’s what she always did, think things through until all the thinking made it sound horrible.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” She whispers, but no one hears her, not over the music, and she’s not even sure if she actually said anything out loud, or if she just thought it and assumed her voice gave her thoughts a life. From behind, she feels someone place his hand on her shoulder, giving her a light shove, and the only people brave enough to do that are the guys in the band, no one else would ever attempt that; not that she’s violent, she’s not, she hates confrontation, but she hates contact, she’s not much of a hugger either, when fans want to hug her, she prefers short hugs, people touching her makes her uncomfortable, but she doesn’t really know why.

Vic places his hands on the microphone, turning his head to the right, locking eyes with the girl gripping onto the microphone, her knuckles turning white with fear, but she has nothing to fear. No matter what, no matter how ridiculous it sounds, no matter how scary it is, Vic knows that he would never give her a reason to have fears, that he would do anything to sooth her from whatever is bothering her. Glancing back at the crowd, biting down on his lower lip, thinking about how amazing it will be; she doesn’t get how amazing she is, the guys in her band, mostly Brian, they were telling him about how she doesn’t like touring and how she comes off differently than how she really is, to give her time to warm up to them, but Vic doesn’t care about her warming up to the other guys.

He keeps telling himself that he shouldn’t feel this way, that whatever he’s feeling he needs to push down and pretend isn't there, but there’s something about her, and she has to feel it to, it can’t be unrequited, there’s no way that’s possible.

“She sits up high surrounded by the sun. One million branches and she loves every one "Mom and dad, did you search for me? I've been up here for so long I'm going crazy." The sun went down; we ended up on the ground. I heard the train shake the windows; you screamed over the sound. And as we own this night, I'll put your body to the test with mine. This love was out of control. Three, two one, where did it go?” It comes out of his mouth so effortlessly; he was made for this, with the crowd screaming the lyrics with him as he sang them, up on stage.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Alana combs her fingers through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them and walking out on stage. People start screaming, throwing their hands in the air in excitement; they rarely see Alana in the front of the stage, anywhere really, besides outside, she always stays after the show, walks around, that’s what people know her for, the people who stay late to meet the bands anyway, they're the ones who think she’s sweet, the others don’t really think that.

Extending his hand out to the side, Vic opens his hand, his fingers reaching for hers, and Alana looks at him with wide eyes, confused, not knowing what to do, he didn’t tell her about this before. Knitting her eyebrows together, she walks over to him, pushing his hand away once she steps in front of his arm, not wanting people to see, and he sighs softly as he continues to sing.  “Now, don't be crazy. Yes, now, of course you can't sit here. Big deal, but I guess you're official. I know I'm excited because I know what it's like to feel. Burned down. It gets you down. We've all been there sometimes. But, tonight I'll make you feel beautiful once again. And as the sun went down, we ended up on the ground. I heard the train shake the windows; you screamed over the sound. And as we own this night, I'll put your body to the test with mine. This love was out of control. Three, two one, where did it go? If I were you, I'd put that away. See, you're just wasting, thinking about the past again. Darling you'll be okay. She said,”

"If you were me, you'd do the same. Cause I can't take anymore. I'll draw the shades and close the door. Because everything's not alright and I would rather.” Opening her eyes, Alana smiles softly, turning her head to look at Vic, noticing the smile on his face, and he slides his arm across her waist, catching her off guard, but she can’t deny the feeling of pure bliss at his contact.

“And as the sun went down we ended up on the ground. I heard the train shake the windows; you screamed over the sound. And as we own this night, I'll put your body to the test with mine. This love was out of control. Tell me where did it go?”

&/

Alana Johnson’s Point of View

John said that if I didn’t go with Vic to get hot chocolate at the Dunkin Donuts next to the venue, he would embarrass me; I don’t know what that means, it makes no sense to me, but then Kyle explained that John would tell all the embarrassing stories about me that he knows. I didn’t need him to threaten me, for some reason I found myself wanting to go with Vic, it’s weird, it feels weird, and I'm not ready for this, Katharine isn't ready for this. She isn't at the point where she starts asking me questions about her dad, she’s so curious about the world, there are so many questions that she wants answers to, but she hasn’t asked about him yet, and I'm dreading the day she does.

There’s no easy way to tell my daughter that as soon as I took the pregnancy test he was gone.

“Don’t worry about it, Alana. I can pay for it.” Shaking his head, Vic turns his head and smiles softly at me, pulling a ten dollar bill from his wallet and handing it to the cashier. Biting down on my lower lip, not wanting him to pay, being able to pay, I don’t know, that’s always been an issue of mine, when the guy thinks that he has to pay, I can pay, I make money, I'm not the girl who waits for the guy to offer to pay. Opening my mouth to protest, I shut it when he raises an eyebrow, closing his wallet and shoving it back into the back pocket of his jeans, taking the money from the cashier’s hand and dumping it into the tip jar. “It’s a hot chocolate. It’s not like I'm paying for a lobster dinner.”

Laughing softly, I shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say, I'm terrible at this, conversation, I barely know him, I don’t know what to talk about, what to say, I'm not good at this, and it just pushes people away. I don’t mean to, I don’t want to push people away, it just happens, I'm not extremely friendly, and I don’t pretend to be, people take it wrong. “Thank you, Vic. I'm paying next time though.”

Rolling his eyes, he walks over to the area where we’re supposed to wait for our drinks, the awkward silence lingering over us, and I feel like it’s all my fault. It’s always my fault. I hate this. Even if I wanted to date, I couldn’t, because this happens, and the guys always stop trying. “Hey, why did you tell me that you can’t sing? You were amazing, Alana. People loved you.”

“Oh, I, just, I only sing to my daughter.” Oh fuck.