Who's Boss? (A Les Twins Fan Fic)

Chapter 1: Kaida

January 4th, 2008

Nadiya watched him, his body moved with such fluidity and speed... it was beyond comprehensible. The young street dancer was hypnotic, enthralling, captivating and unparalleled to any other dancer that she'd ever seen. His tall, lanky but toned muscular frame gripped the audience.

How could he move like that?

Being a dancer herself and a person thoroughly in tune with the world of urban and street culture, Nadiya was truly impressed. He jerked and popped his body precisely to the French zouk beat and every time he did so, a unified roar of ferocious screams spread amongst the crowd, absolutely mesmerised. His style was fresh, inexplicably suave and perhaps, most impressively, reminiscent of old school hip hop. The crowd thrived on the abundance of grace and energy that the young man was manifesting. He was like an art mural; vibrant and inviting and anyone who passed it was simply drawn to its masterful technique.

He had them well under his spell, and as though he was made of boneless liquid, he bent and dropped his back to the ground. With little strain or effort, he swiftly picked himself up again without the support of anything else. No hands. Nothing. It was as if he could contort his body with seemingly little effort; driving the crowd completely insane! It was worth wondering: Where exactly did this man's centre of gravity actually lie?

Far too immersed to even fathom the thought, Nadiya felt electric. Her surroundings burst with energy and hype, and the once tranquil Parisian streets suddenly erupted with life. The large pavement was now hosting a parade of people who were all eager to become part of the spectacle. Adrenaline had kicked in and it rippled throughout every part of her body; her heart pumped rapidly in her chest and her energy levels were at an ultimate high - any inhibition or reservation that she'd felt before would simply have to wait.

The fast paced African drum beats were tantalising, it invited, almost dared her to break away from the crowd and join the young man. Besides, it would be unlike Nadiya to pass an opportunity to show-off or to share (and to perhaps steal) the limelight of another person who was currently receiving all the glory.

She was a sharp contrast from her sister, Sakiya, who was a fierce, aggressive and compelling dancer when she was on stage. But that was merely a persona. Any attention given besides the standard screams and applause she received as a performer, left Sakiya exposed and scampering to her sister for comfort. Whilst all of the glitz and glamour that dancing entailed was nice, Sakiya still valued the moments of serenity where she could unwind and indulge in her solitude. Nadiya, however, kept her fiery image within close proximity. She carried it wherever she went; on the streets, against other competitors. Her vehement demeanour especially came to surface during dance battles and in times where her enthusiasm proved too large to contain - this was definitely one of those times. It's how she adopted the nickname 'Kaida' which in English, translates into 'Little Dragon' - a name the people of her hometown in Japan had given her as a way to describe her boisterous stage presence and warrior-like beauty. In its more literal sense, Sakiya and Nadiya were short in stature and sported a frame just barely reaching 5'3, but what they lacked in height was definitely compensated for in their unique production arrangements that are flamboyant, evermore elegant and remain unmatched.

Back home, the girls were familiar with the Japanese aesthetics of dance but here in Paris, Nadiya ached to see how the French did it. She was so inundated with exhilaration and excitement, it would be moments before she assumed her alter-ego as Kaida and showed everyone why, exactly, she'd been given the name, Little Dragon.

The exotic, bass-thumping, hip-shaking ensuing beats melded into a sensual, rhythm and blues, zouk melody. It was as though a wave of immensely invigorating merit had crashed over Nadiya and obliterated any element of self-inhibition. She was no longer in control and so, in a swift and flamboyant motion, Nadiya entered the circle. The young man had transitioned with the music but stopped when he'd realised he wasn't the only one receiving the crowd's acclamation, and with that, he directed his attention to the girl who was currently dominating the dance space. He studied her intently. Nadiya was seductive, rolling her body sensually to the smooth mellow beats before becoming progressively more fervorous in her movements all while executing each step with such refinement and skill. She was a ballerina turned rebel whose vivacious performance had clearly resonated well with the crowd. They howled and hollered phrases of admiration in unison, "woooo, oui! Get it girl!" Their bellowing words of praise was sparking friendly tension between Nadiya and the street dancer alike. She was getting even more hyped up and evidently, so was the young man.

She hadn't been like his previous competitors who felt they had something to prove against him. No, she was simply having fun and frankly, she looked amazing doing so. Still, he'd never let another person frolic around as though they were better than him simply because they were a woman. The way he saw it, all of his opponents were equal and stood the same chance of defeat regardless if they were male or female, fat or skinny - but despite his innate tendency to crush his opponents confidence at the first drop of the beat - they weren't in a battle and she wasn't his competitor. Instead, he moved towards Nadiya and swayed his hips with hers; allowing the music to combine them into one entity. He was towering over her, yet he was astonished at how well she was able to keep pace with him and manoeuvre her petite body. Her lioness-like features and obnoxious facial expressions created the illusion that she was much bigger than she actually was; evoking all kinds of excitement within the exotic dancer.

Although Nadiya didn't understand French, she could tell by the singers sensual whining in between verses that the suggestive lyrics alluded to passionate love-making and copulation and with a beautiful French man grinding behind her, she couldn't resist letting her guard down and with it, any sense of modesty or apprehension - had there not been an audience, the two would've done more than just dirty dance.

It was nearing midnight and the dimly lit street lamps were providing them with all the intimacy that an otherwise fully day-lit pavement couldn't. Oh what a sight to behold. The sky was an endless gradient of deep navy blues covered by a blanket of a billion luminous stars. Despite the obvious shift in the cool climate, the body heat being exchanged between Nadiya and the exotic street dancer was enough for on-looking spectators to break into a cold sweat; prompting them to fan themselves down. Before breaking away from Nadiya, he whispered in her ear,

"Tu es belle... You're beautiful," and in the most dexterous fashion he separated his body from hers and introduced himself as, Lau.

A dark figure soon emerged from behind him and Nadiya took that as her cue to retreat back to her original position as one of the spectators. She was smiling like an idiot who had just experienced the most magical night of her life - it was the most magical night of her life. She continued to watch as another man replicated Lau's exact moves in close to perfect sync - as if he were his shadow. The young man not only mirrored his moves but also his appearance; his frame stretching just a few inches past six feet, draped in an oversized hoodie paired with equally baggy jeans, caramel complexion; indicating a trace of African ancestry and an Afro both wild and untamed. Twins.

Nadiya stood there, dumbfounded. Her night had been taking the most unexpected turns.