What?

It stood upright enough that the camera could capture the room... if there was a viewer on the other side.

Jake had never mentioned before if he had looked into your camera when you were rehearsing.

Usually, you hated it when he did. It was invasive, controlling, a breach of privacy.

But one part of you... wanted him to see.

To watch. To... appreciate seeing you like this.

Of course, as an adult you could do it very simply. Just ask. Or just tell him. "Hey, I'm at practice tonight, do you want to watch? I would like to hear your opinion."

But why do it easy when you could also do it the hard way.

However... this time when you looked at your phone, a sudden, strange tingle ran down your back. As if you could sense something. As if your body sensed... him.

You would have called yourself insane usually. Sensing him in your phone camera? How ridiculous.

When, in the moment you finally stood up again, a deep, slightly disoriented voice sounded right into your ear through the one earbud you were wearing.

"You're frustrated."

The way you flinched as it happened was probably very bad for your neck and shoulder muscles. But at the same time the shock and surprise went through you, your pulse already betrayed you. Your heart missed a beat, then picked up pace.

"My go— Jake!" you answered, looking back at your phone.

A short crackle on the other end, then the answer, "My apologies. It wasn't my intention to frighten you, MC."

The urge to smile at him hearing your name was almost too much to hide. But you managed.

Concentration, MC.

Instead, you changed the topic, not as casually as you would like. "What... what were you doing in my phone again?"

The barely audible laugh coming from him sounded creepy in your eyes. But this time, you couldn't fully suppress your smile.

To not let it show fully, you straightened again and walked back to your starting position.

"You're rehearsing," he stated, monotone as most of the time. But maybe there was a little bit of curiosity in the robotic voice.

"Yeah, I wrote you, you did not see it?" you asked, looking back at your phone once again, as if you were talking face to face with him this way.

Jake shifted slightly on his chair, the voice changer picking this up as well, "I did see it," he said.

You let out a small hum in acknowledgment, rewinding the song with the remote for the sound system.

"And how long have you been watching me?"

There was a pause on the other side as Jake thought about if he should tell you that he was always watching. Always admiring. Not your body, though, even he couldn't help but appreciate the view. No, he was admiring your skill, your talent.

Watching you dance was fascinating to him. Truly fascinating. It was the exact opposite of what he was used to.

Control vs. expression

Hidden vs. seen

Logic vs. instinct

He cleared his throat as he realized he was losing track of the reasons he actually had decided to make himself known.

"You're around 0.6 seconds late on the fourth beat."

"What?" you asked, the surprise was written all over your face, the confusion clear in your voice, "What do you— how do you know?"

Jake felt himself stiffen slightly as he realized he had accidentally given too much away about what he was usually doing when he was watching you.

His first instinct was to dodge the question, not answer, come up with a believable response. But then he decided to just be honest. After all, you two were a couple. Well, not officially. But telling each other about their love for the other was pretty... close, right?

His fingers moved to the small device on his desk, he switched the flip, and instead of the disorientation, his real voice answered you this time.

"I've... counted," he admitted. "You're 0.6 seconds late when you do this... acrobatic thing. Probably because you breathe in at the wrong moment. The intake of air at that moment is slowing you."

If it were anyone else than Jake, you would have probably laughed. "I breathe in at the wrong moment? You have a colorful imagination of how things work." But this wasn't anyone else. This was Jake. And so you knew, he wasn't joking, he wasn't trying to make a fool out of you. He was serious.

"You— you were counting," you answered carefully, as if the thought alone tasted weird, "And you...?"

"I saw your frustration. So I cropped your steps and synchronized the song with it. Then I analyzed your breathing and noticed the slight delay," the hacker explained. There was a bit of hesitation mixed into his usual matter-of-fact voice.

The words only slowly started to make sense in your head. He hadn't just watched. He had... put work into it. Had analyzed it for you with open eyes to then come and let you know.

"Jake— I—" you started, but he interrupted you.

"Reiterate."

You didn't refuse. Didn't try to make excuses.

You didn't question it. You just... listened.

Because it was him.

And when you started "Put It on Me" by Matt Maeson from the beginning and went into your starting position, you felt a flutter in your stomach. The slight nervousness that came with knowing, this time, he was really watching.

And yet, you had never felt as good before as you fully leaned into your choreography as if your life depended on it.

The beat buzzed through your entire being. You could feel it in your bones, your veins. Your eyes were closed, the music took over your existence.

And Jake? He became part of it. Counting your every step. Every beat. Analyzing every rhyme. He was learning your style, how you moved during every part. How your soul became... agravic.

He was tracking your every move. And when the part came you had been struggling with before, his voice guided you. "Wait... now."

And this time when you pushed yourself into the aerial cartwheel, it was as if the music adjusted to you instead of the other way around.

The next hour flew by without you feeling any of it. Jake became your eyes when you closed yours to feel.

"Wait. You're early."

"Again. On four."

His voice became your rhyme while he was learning your breathing patterns.

And when your practice ended, with a kind of confidence you had never felt before, Jake disconnected from your phone.

His lips twitching, once, twice, before he allowed the smile to fully spread over his face.

His eyes went unfocused for a moment as he replayed your words, your gratitude towards him, the way you smiled at him through your camera.

He secured the memory of those two hours in his mind, protected and available for the rest of his life.

His attention snapped back into reality. His hand moved to open another tab to check the progress of his loading program before he closed it again and once again opened the footage of your dancing.

He clicked the first video and then leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to fully dive into his administration for you.