The Dance Floor

The Dance Floor

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


A troupe of dancers have one final rehearsal at an abandoned school. their dance is graceful, glorious, but it is inevitably to be ruined by spiked sangria. contains elements from 'climax' (2018) by gaspar noé.


A troupe of dancers have one final rehearsal at an abandoned school. their dance is graceful, glorious, but it is inevitably to be ruined by spiked sangria. contains elements from 'climax' (2018) by gaspar noé.

Chapter1 (v.1) - 1

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 21, 2019

Reads: 101

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 21, 2019



The Dance Floor – by QDesjardin
contains elements from Gaspar Noe's 'Climax'


Once, a troupe of young dancers decide to rehearse in a lonesome school. A last rehearsal, for the ultimate dance routine. The school, in a secluded forest, is just entering the first stages of dilapidation – no one to look after it, yet clean enough that no advance tidying-up is necessary.

The troupe is tightly knit. Twenty or so dancers who only express the love of their bodies, the music, the rhythm, the heat of motion; in other words, life. They're from all walks of places, whether it's the circus, or street artists, or just someone wanting to hop in for a good time. Each dances the way they prefer, but in conjunction with one another, it becomes gorgeous – merely being in their presence sends trembles through the soul.

Let's follow one of them for now.

Azad. He is still fresh from high school, his hair in a bun, and his spirits dainty with excitement. He hastily chows down on his mom's spaghetti, meatballs, tomato sauce.

"Azad? Why are you eating so fast?" his mom goes, while his little brother is preoccupied playing on the phone.

Cause. There's an important rehearsal, and I gotta get there early to help set the tables up."

"YES I KILLED ONE!" his brother goes, his Fortnite character having blasted an enemy in the face.

He still has some sauce on his mouth afterwards when he rubs his brother's hair, saying farewell.

"Azad! Please be careful! And I don't want you staying out too late-" (It's the weekend, who cares.)

Azad skateboards on his way to his friend Kevin, who actually knows how to drive and has a used Mustang already. In his knapsack are some" vinyls for the DJ to play. Some Heatwave, Cerrone, and goodly hits of the 70s. Then some more modern hits, like Sad! and Bank Account. The kind of enlivening music he loves personally.

When they drive, the air is suffused with mist, which the mustang's headlights pierce through with a fierce intensity.

"In 150m, turn right," the GPS voice goes.

"I swear, this school's right in the midst of nowhere," Kevin goes – he's not part of the troupe, but he enjoys just chilling with Azad, and that's plenty enough reason. "What the hell is Tania thinking? The perfect spot for a disaster if anything goes wrong – believe me, I've been to one of those parties. People just piss themselves shitless. If it turns out to be a horrorshow, I'm just gonna drag your ass out and it's back to home, meng!"

"You worry too much Kevin.. everything's gonna be all good.." Azad goes. "Trust me!"


Santa Maria's Catholic Academy once housed and disciplined some grade school kids in its heyday. A two-story building, and the parking lot is packed with some cars, a trailer, a decorated van (Azad knows that is Amarna's). Only a few lampposts provide illumination, so it looks like an orange purgatory, the barren trees in the distance being black silhouettes against the hazy abyss.

"Oh baby, let's go, let's dance!" Azad goes, feeling the chill of the air on his bare arms and wanting nothing more than to be inside the school.

The school's halls seem hypnotizing from the candles placed on the ground to light the way – for these venues, the dance troupe doesn't have electricity so they just manage with a portable electric generator.

The candles lead to the gym.

In the gym, the dancers, brightly lit by the stage lights. One of them is tap dancing, while another is by a table, setting up the cups and drinks. An incredibly warm and lush atmosphere, fuelled by the bodies in this room.

"AZAD! Finally, you came!" That is DJ Daddy, his baritone voice, approaching Azad from the turntables. "Have you brought your tunes?"

"Ja, I did."

The vinyls are in their sleeves, and as DJ Daddy inspects the repretoire, he grins noticably at seeing Giorgio Moroder and his Mario-moustache. "Purrfect!"

It looks like everything is just super chill for now; nobody's really dancing seriously as Tania (the troupe leader) hasn't made her appearance yet. While Kevin just finds a chair and sits with his phone, Azad goes over to the drink tables, looks at what is there – the bowl is filled with something darkly red, with slices of fruit in it. What is that?

"You want to try out the Sangria?" It's Amarna. "I helped made it.. make it? Sorry.. my English isn't perfect.." She is visibly blushing.

"Sure! What's Sangria?"

"A drink from my country. Pour some wine, chop up some oranges and melon, and as you're mixing it, add some brandy too – or in this case, vodka! Mi favourite."

She has a naturally enlivening way of explaining things, and a really nice ass (as far as Azad is concerned). It's a bit unfortunate he hasn't had the chance of getting to know her well, outside of one or two chat sessions during break.

Amarna gets an empty glass and dips it in the fruit mix, where it looks like a darkly red, and she takes a sip of it. "Mmm-" she blushes, "do you want to try?"

So Azad grabs another empty glass, and he dips some of the Sangria in it, and when he puts the glass to his lips, it is like lime and oranges with the familiarity of booze, and it comes on a bit mellow on his tongue, but he likes it, and he's like "Yeah, this is dope."

Then another guy comes along – we'll call him Noparg, since he's never been comfortable expressing his real name to anyone. Noparg has long, shaggy hair, and if you didn't know better, you'd thought he was in his mid-20s.

"Azad~!" His accent is the same as Amarna's. "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog!"

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy- wasssup my meng!"

They do an arm-slap – and when they grab each other's hands, Azad and Noparg do a synchronized breakdance on the floor, their asses squeaking on the dusty wood paneling with the intensity of NBA basketball players. It's like they were dance brothers from another life.

Amarna rolls her eyes. Men can be really weird sometimes.

"Yo Azad," Noparg begins. "So I was thinking.. there's the League championship series going on in Barcelona, and Bjergsen is going to be there. I've got three tickets – one for me, one for my girlfriend, and one more for a good friend. Do you want to be that good friend?"

As Noparg is talking, Azad sees Amarna turning her attention towards the other guys in the troupe, and it makes him feel a bit downcast.

"Oh yes, for you Noparg, anything," Azad goes.

Especially when Amarna and this other dude (what the fuck is his name, again?) exchange kisses. This other dude, who looks like a hippie out of a commune. Before, when nobody knew anybody, everyone was just acquaintences. Azad had the chance to make a move on her.. but at the time, he already had Melina, and he thought it was more responsible just to stick faithfully with the girl who's chosen him, despite his instinctual urges.

So Noparg slips a golden ticket out of his sleeve and tucks it in Azad's pocket.

And now.. well, he still knows Melina. But not as well. Just occasional contact, every now and then. You never really know with your relationships. Pick one day, you're good friends who feel comfortable hanging out. Pick another day, you're bitter enemies whose only vivid memory is that of exploding the deepest resentments. Cracks can widen beneath even happy faces, and it happens over time as circumstances vary; the only choice that matters is how you roll with it.

And for Azad, it's to dance. To dance your worries away. To open your heart to everything joyous and free.

"You want her, don't ya?" Noparg says, following Azad's unconsicous gaze. "She's kinda hot." Then Noparg mimicks Amarna: "Azad! My lover! I want you so badly.. I want what's quivering in your pants! Make me explode all over.."

"Oh my gawd, staahp-"

Azad gives Noparg a light touch on the shoulder as they both crack down from laughter. The Sangria is starting to take effect – Azad's feeling enlivened (this shit's really good!) and it's a load off of his back when a friend is able to just get what he couldn't bring himself to say in words.

"Yo, you gotta try the Sangria," Azad says. "It's real good, Amarna made it."

The music that was casually playing earlier changes into a staccato, hypnotic beat. No lyrics. Only an urge to bust a move, so Noparg takes a sip from Azad's glass, before joining with the rest in an orgy of synergized movement.

When you surrender yourself to music, your own body knows the way with the rhythms and the moods, and you just follow it. The same way infant animals know how to walk shortly after birth, or how a couple would move and slide together in coitus.

The dancers wave, and they groove – sliding onto the floor, and the next moment, rising up, making space for anyone who wants to have the spotlight centered on them for a bit.

Azad snaps his fingers, and shakes his shoulders, nodding his head.

There's a guy with his video camera out, not participating in the dance, but recording the unfolding magic so it could be used as memories, behind-the-scenes footage.

Azad sees his friend Kevin – he's no longer twiddling on his phone, but nodding along in tune with the dance and the music. The dancing is very intensive; you could feel so much collective body heat and sweat, radiating out of everyone, the pheromones, only adding to the electricity.

No worries. No pain. No fear or guilt or shame.

Only a primodial bodily joy.

When the music shifts to its end, the lights seem to brighten. There is Tania, clapping – very pleased with what she's felt from everyone.

"Excellente- this is what I want to have happen at our dancing next week!" The speakers amplify her voice, she has a neck microphone. "This is just the first rehersal, yes? We can all have ourselves a break, and in an hour, we prepare the second phase!"

The 'second phase', unlike what we've just seen, is more carefully choreographed – it's not free-flowing, the dancers are much more synchronized in accordance with Tania's vision, and the idea is after dazzling people into a state of hypnosis, they'll be much more receptive to the graceful, more restrained dance energies. With the movie Empire Strikes Back, you have the big action invasion scenes on the Hoth planet when the rebels are trying to escape, it's gripping to get your attention, and later on when the story shifts its focus to Luke's Jedi training and his confrontation with Vader, there's no sensory fireworks overload – just the chill of a precise knife cut into the bone marrow.

Azad sits down on a bench seat, sweating, his shirt wet by the collarbone. He gets a napkin out to dry his face.. he's looking at the floor when he finds her black shoes entering his vision.

He looks up. It's Amarna. She is peeved. He gets an uneasy sense, a chill in his gut from the look on her face.

"What the fuck was that with your friend?" she says.

".. what?"

Amarna mimes Noparg miming her. "You two were laughing over me. Am I just an object to you? Someone who your penis can fawn over?"

"—no, it's not like that! We were-" Azad looks over at Noparg, who's casually strolling out of the gym. Damn. He's all alone here. "I was only thinking of you, I wanted to be able to get to know you better."

"Yeah. With your dick!"

"No. With my heart."

A beat. ".. with your heart?"

"Since I've laid eyes on you, you had that spicy energy – it's doing something to me. But I couldn't bring myself to say it. Too proud of myself to do that. I had a girlfriend- not anymore now, and I only hoped to get closer to you.. as a friend."

Amarna starts to soften. She is piqued, and so she sits down on the bench beside Azad – she has a musky odour from all the dancing, but mixed with her jasmine perfume, it has an alluring effect.

"What happened with your girlfriend?" she asks him.

"She left me. She was my first girlfriend, Melina." Azad's eyes waver, as his mind recollects the essential memories. "She's everything a young man could ever desire in a woman. And I let her down.


"When I brought her over to my house for the first time, inside, I felt a trepidation. Me and her, alone. I took to my room upstairs, where she saw how messy everything was scattered. My laptop on a petite stool. She wasn't interested when I showed her a match of League of Legends. But she was also troubled. Even though everyone from my classes liked her, she had the deepest scars of not ever being truly loved by anyone. Others had used her- raped her even.

"She showed me a random book she found, lost at the bus stop – I remember we talked for a bit about random things, and it was like a lostness in her had come to the forefront, and she was like a skittish cat, crawling onto my bed, huddling the sheets over herself.

"I felt so sad for her. And yet.. my dick felt it an opportune moment.

"I went down beside- behind her on my bed, huddling her body with my own. It felt good. So I asked her if it was alright for me to touch her, and she looked at me.. like she's always wanted this, and said yes.

"Her breasts.. were the softest things I could ever remember touching.

"All the while, I found I was rubbing my groin behind her. She rolled over.. and I went on top of her back. I wondered how it was like to do it for real, like how people acted out in sex scenes.

"I thrust my erection against her derriere. And again.. and soon she was moaning. I've never heard her voice so aroused.. it was like her inner animal had come out, finally uncaged, and she reached for my hand and had it rubbing her between the legs. One thing led to another, and soon we were kissing, hugging each other – miming out the motions of making wonderful love.

"But then, I heard my brother come in with my mom, and we had to just stop. By the time my bro came in the room, it just looked like he'd witnessed us playing pattycake.

"I wanted more with her.. Melina.. all I could do was walk her back to the bus stop, where she hugged me one last time. And we made a promise to meet each other – to finish the deed.

"But my mom, and my dad wouldn't let me see her again. I couldn't hide it when my mom saw me leave with her – her family was ridden with criminals, close ties to the Albanian mafia. Didn't want me to get mixed in with her bad crowd. They wouldn't even let met talk to her..

"She was waiting for me all that time.. and then she dumped me hard. Won't even look at me in the school hallways. Blocked me on everything, Facebook, WhatsApp.. I never got a chance to explain why to her."

Azad could see Amarna almost tearing up from his story. "One of the things I remember the most about Melina, besides that she looked like a tomboy, was that vanilla bean scent she carried. I can't bring myself to smell that beautiful, precious scent without remembering.. I had to act like she was fucking nothing to me, to her face, when I left school and she was pleading for me to come back to her."

Amarna is blinking hard – trying to wipe away the onslaught of tears welling up in her. Then she sees her hubby, Matthew. He's just grabbing her a drink of the Sangria.

She recomposes herself. "Betraying someone's hope is hard to live with, Azad. But you are not your past regrets-" She lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You are how you choose to deal with them."

"I know."

As it turns out, Matthew has brought two glasses of Sangria, one for Amarna, and one for her newfound friend. How sweet.

"Why don't you come join up with me and Matthew," she says, as she takes a sip – it tastes a bit different from earlier, but she sips some more. Azad, feeling both a mixture of being invited and allured, goes with them, out into the halls.

You have people who are acting like they're having the time of their lives, like there's lightning to be found anywhere they reach out to.

Azad just listens to Amarna blabbing to Matthew, and Matthew blabbing back at her in Spanish. He doesn't know what they're talking about, besides that the semblance of them being really close has dissolved away. In fact, you could sense she's not feeling much of a genuine passion for this guy – why are they together again?

And when they kiss, it's a peck on each other's lips, and an endearing smile.

Azad is starting to feel bored around them, as they're verging at a dark area where nobody else is. He gulps down his glass, and those moments with the lively Amarna come back to him – the Amarna who excites his energies, who is upbeat..

Then in English, she tells Matthew: "Hey- it's almost time to dance again, I need my deodorant, can you go get it from my van?"

So Matthew heads off, leaving Amarna alone with Azad, as they pace back to where everyone else is.

"What do you see in that guy," Azad says, "that you like him so much?"

"I.. he's so cute," she goes. "He's like a teddy bear. I feel calm just being around him."

They pass by a window where you see outside, it is already snowing. The snowflakes drift down in spades, the wind dancing them all over with their own life.

"That's just great," Amarna says. "I was debating whether or not I should have changed to using winter tires-"

She discovers Azad, holding her by the hand.

"Lookit, isn't that very pretty?" he goes – raising her hand to point out the various patterns of the snow chaos, whirling, spiraling and blending in with one another.

Her eyes take it in. "It is.."

She interweaves her fingers with his, and realises how worn they feel.

© Copyright 2019 QDesjardin. All rights reserved.


Add Your Comments:

Other Content by QDesjardin

More Great Reading

Popular Tags