Rain pored down, soaking my hair, turning it a dirty blond. The golden letters spelling out Ballroom gleamed with rain. I ran faster, scrambling into the main hall. I was nearly fifteen minutes late for my dance class. The red door to the ballroom swung open with an agitating squeek. The staccadoed music rang through my ears imediately. Bringing a smooth smile to my mouth. The regular dancers apart of her once a week class were twirling around in sleek black outfits. I walked in and slipped my dance shoes on. I rung out my hair and turned to my instructer. When the music ended she turned to me, a frown on her face.
“We seem to have a problem Chelsie,” She spoke my name with a rough latin accent, dragging out the L. I cleared my throat.
“What Mrs. Canilla?”
“Rob, he seems to have severly injured himself while performing at the Chapel. He does not feel dancing the Tango at this moment would be neccesary for himself.” Mrs. Canilla spoke tango with a rich flourish. “We must find you a new partner Chelsie.”