#focaxsin

This small school, if this could be said for that three-rooms flat under the roofs, was Focalor’s pride. Recently graduated, the young man had put most of his savings into the rent of this place, this place that would allow him to dedicate himself to his passion. Dancing. Since he was a young boy, dance has occupied a huge part of his life, something he could put his heart, his soul into. People had tried to reason him, telling him to work for his future, to stop being so obsessed by something they’d dare to call a simple ‘hobby’.

But now here he was, free of their influence, allowed to do as he pleased : dance and share his passion with others.

At first it had been hard, finding pupils and students, making himself known...heck even making people believe this was real and not some kind of scam. After weeks of distributing leaflets in the streets, he eventually got a few people interested...they didn’t stay for long though, most of them having been attracted by simple curiosity or his good looks, the latter more interested in seducing him then listening to his teachings.

The months passed, after hundreds of  leaflets and posters, even a few demonstrations, he eventually managed to gather a small group of participants. Kids and teenagers in majority, only one or two adults. It wasn’t much but it was a rather good start nonetheless. They seemed to be pleased by his teachings, some already making progress and thanking him for his patience. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

One evening, after his last student left, Focalor hears a knock to his door. Shaking his head, he opens while chuckling as he guesses it was the usual dreamy boy who was coming back for his forgotten belongings.

« Forgot your head again Marcus~ ? »

He soon pauses though, looking at the stranger at the entrance of his flat, a tall, violet-haired man around his age he has never seen before.

« Oh...Hi, how can I help you ? » he asks with curiosity, meeting the man’s amber eyes.

« Good evening, I’m searching for dance lessons, private if possible. Someone told me to come here, they said the teacher was nice and...I guess they weren’t wrong about this detail~ » the violet-haired man answers with a charming smile.

Focalor doesn’t reply straight away, his eyes looking up and down at the newcommer. He is definitely good looking and clearly knows about it, his attitude confident and proud, his moves and even the intonation of his voice clearly under control. The dancer couldn’t help but feel doubtful, wondering if the other is serious or if he has something else in mind.

« I do give lessons, private ones are double price though... » he eventually replies while opening the door completely and making a sign for the other to enter.

« What kind of dance are you interested in ? Ballet ? Modern ? Partner dance ? Street dance... ? I’m not the best placed for the latter though, I’d only be able to give you some basis... » Focalor adds while settling on a small seat. « Besides, what’s your level ? »

The stranger seems to be confused at the list, his self-assurance melting slightly under Focalor’s professional tone.  «Hmm...couple dances maybe? Something I could use during celebrations and parties, I’m not so confident about my skills on this matter, I’d like to improve» he explains while settling down nonchalently on a couch. «Oh by the way, I’m Sinbad, but people tend to call me Sin~» he adds while reaching a hand.

Focalor simply nods, pondering if he should accept this new student who seems so out of place inside the room. In another situation he would have probably been more chatty and easygoing, maybe he’d even returned the man’s flirty gestures, but after his difficult start, he is clearly not in the mood to suffer another disinterested wooer.

« You can call me Focalor » he finally says while shaking Sinbad’s hand. « I fear for this kind of lessons you’ll have to come late in the evening, just like today. At first I’ll need to evaluate your skills, then I’ll teach you what I can. This might takes some time, don’t expect to become a pro in only a few sessions. Are you still okay with it...Sinbad ? » The dancer explains while resting his head in his hand, his gaze prodding the man’s beautiful hues, like testing his motivation.

When their gaze meet again, Sinbad feels a chill down his spine, Focalor’s intense ocher eyes piercing through his, making him gulp with some difficulties. « It’s fine for me ! When should we begin then~ ? »