DWTS 100 Prompt Challenge!

How Cliche

// I felt this would make more sense between a teacher and a partner, so I selected Jordan and Lindsay to withstand this...storm (how cliche). Enjoy! //

The two sat in the studio, backs facing one another. A thunderstorm raged outside as the only sounds filling the room were their angry breaths. How cliche. Lindsay's eyes scanned the blank wall in the studio, while Jordan's eyes were glued to the photo of the two hung on the wall. The photo that the producers had put there. The one on the brick wall.

"I don't understand this, Lindsay, I'm sorry!" Jordan shook his head and brought his arms up for a moment.

"Look, you just go on the accents." She showed him the steps and counts once more.

"I understand that, but I can't count the music itself." It was obvious that he was trying not to completely snap on her.

"What do you mean you can't count the music itself?"

"I mean exactly what I said!" He was still trying so hard. But it was late. It had been a long day. They were both frustrated. And when it was late, both parties were frustrated, and this whole thing was down to the wire, in terms of time management, things would be said that weren't meant.

The only sound to break the silence was Lindsay sniffing. She wasn't one to cry when frustrated, but this had really gotten to her. Even though she needed someone to be there for her, she didn't dare turn around. She kept her eyes on the wall as her entire body shook with silent sobs. Jordan was stone faced, looking at this wall. It was only when her sniffing had gotten to be a little more often than Jordan liked, he just glanced over his shoulder at the girl. Only for a split second did his heart hurt for her. The real Jordan, deep down, wanted nothing more than to hug her and kiss her forehead and dry her tears, but the Jordan in this moment was too worked up over a few words to even consider doing any of that.

"You can't have been on a Broadway show for a year and a half and not be able to count six-eighths time." Lindsay sassed.

"You can't be considered a teacher if you don't help your students when they're confused on something." He snapped in the same tone.

And that was that. That's how they got here. Thunder cracked, shaking the foundation of the building ever so slightly. Lindsay jumped, Jordan didn't. Lindsay didn't know how to feel. She was staring at this blank wall, contemplating if driving through a thunderstorm would be worth it. The thought of a cab ride home ran through her head as well, she'd definitely rather get stuck in a cab, in the middle of a storm, than be in this tense situation. On the other hand, Jordan was family, but maybe this whole thing had driven a wedge between the family and friends line. Jordan's eyes still remained fixated on that image. They were unstoppable; and still are. They had just run into a bump in the road as family; as friends. He knew they could get over this, he just didn't know when they would. Lindsay sniffed a few more times, a few of those sniffles were followed by short fits of coughing from her crying. At that, Jordan stood up and left the studio, with no words being exchanged between either dancer. He came back moments later with a bottle of water from the mini fridge in the hallway. Jordan sat it down by Lindsay's leg. Her fixed gaze faltered for a moment and landed on the bottle. She looked behind herself at her partner, who was sitting just like he had been, like nothing happened. Lindsay slowly turned all the way around and slid herself closer to Jordan. She carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I'm sorry." Lindsay spoke softly. Jordan jumped at this, but found a sense of relief in it as well.

"Don't be." Jordan said, still facing the bricks. "We're both just under pressure and this is all a sign of the wear and tear." He sighed and turned around, comfortably adjusting Lindsay's arms as he did so. Right as he turned around, he froze. He saw Lindsay's red eyes and smudged mascara. He saw her hair and how the part had been messily switched to the other side of her head, something he knew was a result of her nervous fingers having nothing else to fidget with. He saw her cheeks and the tear stains. He saw her nose and really realized how often she was sniffling. He had done all of this to her. Jordan mouthed an 'oh my gosh' and ran his thumb under the blonde's eyes. "I am so sorry." They both sat there for a moment, breathing in the damage they had obviously done to one another. Lindsay felt guilty about Jordan's hand beginning to bleed; something else that was an indirect fault on the other party. She knew when he was stressed or angry he just dug his nails into his palm, and this night had done it for him, all the way to the point he had drawn blood.

"I didn't mean any of that, I'm sorry." Lindsay repeated herself.

"I didn't either. I'm sorry for snapping. I'm sorry for swallowing every feeling, until I snap. I'm just sorry." In that second, they both had things to rightfully be sorry for, but they had apologized and even shared a tight hug to make up for it. And right as they did, the storm seemed to calm to a gentle stop. How cliche.