Movement of Milan

  THE MOVEMENT OF MILAN

Nagaella Province

WARNING- mention of divorce

“Milan Acosta?” Professor Campbell called out.

“Here.” I responded. 

“Come to my desk please.” 

I’m screwed.  I got up out of my desk and walked to Professor Cambell, already aware of what she was going to lecture me about.

“Ms. Acosta,” She handed me last week’s exam that had a  big red F on the right corner, “This is your 3rd F in a row.”

“I see that.” I honestly didn’t know what else to say.

“No Ms. Acosta- I don’t think you see or comprehend that if you keep getting these grades in my class you’re in danger of failing the class as a whole,” She warned me, “If you do, you have to retake it senior year. Let's be honest, you don’t want to retake Intro to Calculus in your final year of college”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to yourself. You and I both know you have potential. Everyone does. Just use it, Milan.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t let me have this conversation with you again.”

I nodded my head and went back to my seat. That went well.

I put my head down in hopes that if I put my head up I’ll be in Hawaii or NYC, just anywhere other than an Intro to Calculus college class on a monday morning. However, I know that will never happen. The only thing that I have done continuously these last 3 years of college has been go to class, go home, procrastinate on my homework, go on my phone, then go to sleep. Not a routine that I  like,  but … at least it’s a routine I guess.

-Ding-Dong- 

The bell rang.

Thank goodness. I immediately got up and packed up all my stuff. As I stuffed my exam into my backpack, this strawberry blonde haired blue-eyed girl came up to me.

“Hello!” She greeted me.

I looked around. Is she talking to me? 

“Hello?”I responded, unsure.

“My name is Penelope Davis. You’ve probably seen me in class.”

“...sure.” That was totally a lie. I tend not to care or acknowledge my classmates around me.

“Good! So I’m apart of this dance studio and-”

“I have no interest in joining anything.” I quickly stated.

“Wait! Let me fini-”

“My answer is no.”

“You know, you're very rude!” Penelope snapped. 

“I’m not the one who just walked to a random person to talk about some stupid dance club!” I fumed.

Penelope looked like she was about to snap until she took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. Can you please listen to what I have to say?” She said in a forceful cheery voice.

“Whatever. Just make it quick.” I said.

“Okay. So I’m a part of the Dance Studio of Toronto. We are a competitive dance team based in Toronto, Canada-”

“Jeez, I didn’t know as if we don’t go to school in Toronto, Canada.” I said sarcastically.

Penlope sighed, “Like I was saying, We are a competitive dance team. We do styles such as hip-hop, jazz, etcetera. We have new spots available in our group and I’m supposed to scout people.”

“...and why me of all people?”

“You give off dancer vibes to me.”

“Well your vibes are wrong.”

“Have you tried dancing before?” Penelope asked.

“No. I did lacrosse growing up. I quit though.” I went silent.

“You know dancing is similar to lacrosse in some ways.” Penelope claimed.

“How?”

Penelope paused, “In…some…way. Anyways, dancing is such a nice hobby to try.”

Not going to lie. I always wanted to try dancing. Growing up, Lacrosse and clarinet lessons took  up so much of my time that I didn't have time to take a dance class. 

“When is it?” I muttered.

“What was that?” Penpople smirked.

“WHEN IS IT?” I shouted.

Penelope gave me a flyer that had the address and time.

“It’s today?” I asked.

“Yes. You can just come and learn a dance with us. It’s for the upcoming showcase.”

“Showcase?” I asked, “I’m not doing any showcases.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just come and if you don’t like it you don't have to come next time.”

I looked at the paper and back at Penelope, “I’ll think about it.”

“Great! Hope to see you there.” 

-                                         -                                            -                                                                                   

After a long walk, I finally put my exercise bag down and looked up at the sign above me.

DANCE STUDIO OF TORONTO

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I walked shamefully into the doors of the studio. I saw no one. Guess they're not here yet. I put my bag down that contained water and dance shoes I bought with the money I got for my 20th birthday. I didn’t want a party.

I took my phone out of my pocket and put on Train Wreck by James Arthur. I put my earbuds in. I listened to the first couple verses, swaying to the rhythm. I hummed the lyrics. Then when the chorus came, I decided to move spontaneously. I didn't have any choreography. No plan. Just move in a way that replicates my feelings. The feeling of struggle and pain. Deep within me that has’t lingered off yet. I unleashed them out of me while dancing.

         🎵 Pull me out, Pull me out 🎵

I embodied the lyrics while dancing. My emotions guided me.. I looked in the mirror. I saw a tear in my reflection. I closed my eyes and continued dancing. Until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and turned around to see Penelope and a bunch of other random people staring at me. They applauded.

Penelope came up to me, “Wow! You’re really good!”

“She’s right,” An older woman said, “I’m Coach Kelsey. The director of this studio. What’s your name?”

“My name is Milan. Milan Acosta.” I said.

“Well Milan, great to have you join us today.” Coach Kelsey greeted me.

“Thank you.”

“Her arms were too low when she did the twirl.” A raven haired girl noted as she walked in like she owned the place.

Rude. What’s her problem?

“Stop it, Irene.” Penelope said, “She was great.”

“Whatever you say.” Irene put her hair in a ponytail, “Estos novatos.” 

          “These newbies.”

“I can understand Spanish.” I informed her, “My mom is half Mexican.”

Irene paused, “Whatever.” Irene put her dance shoes on, “Let’s just dance.”

“Our group song for the showcase is Swalla by Jason Derulo featuring Nicki Minaj and Ty Dolla $ign. Irene, do you want to show us the choreo for the showcase song?” Coach Kelsey asked.

 Oh, right. The showcase.

Irene walked up to the middle of the dance floor, “Gladly.”

Coach put press play on the speaker.

“Is she a good dancer?” I asked Penelope.

She looked at me, “You’ll see.”

As soon as the beep dropped,  Irene got into character. 

🎵LOVE IN A THOUSAND DIFFERENT FLAVORS🎵

She looked at the mirror while walking to the beat.

🎵I WISH THAT I COULD  TASTE THEM ALL TONIGHT 🎵

She hit precisely 8 different poses coordinated with the beat.  I didn’t want to admit it due to her snarky attitude, but she was amazing. The precision. The facials. She didn’t miss a beat. I couldn't recognize the girl that just criticized me. She was a dancing machine.

She stopped at Nicki Minaj’s verse, “That’s when the solo begins.”

Everyone clapped for Irene as she went to get water. Me included. 

“Okay. She’s a very good dancer.” I whispered to Penlope. Good was an understatement. She was amazing. 

“Yeah. She’s basically the untitled captain of the group.” Penelope said.

“If only she was kind. Maybe we could've been friends.” 

“She's not your typical mean girl,” Penelope disclosed, “Regina George would eat her alive. Irene Mendez is just very cocky and passive aggressive. She has this mindset of “I’m the best”. I hate to say it, but … she is.”

“How about you?” I asked, “Are you a good dancer?”

“I’m okay,” Penelope said,  “I wouldn't say I’m as good as Irene, but I’m not that bad.”

“Let’s do the Nicki Minaj Solo auditions right now,” Coach said, “This dance solo will be a freestyle. Just don’t think so much about it. Have fun. Raise your hand if you would like to audition.”

A lot of girls, including Peneleope, raised their hands. 

“You’re trying out?” I asked Peneleope.

“Yeah. What’s the harm?” Penelope got up as Coach told her she was up first.

I clapped my hands for Penlope as she got ready. She had no sign of fear in her face.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Coach said as she pressed play.

As soon as the rap started Penelope started freestyling. OH MY GOSH!

I was baffled at Penelope's intense pop dance moves. Her face scrunched up and ponytail whipped around. She popped it to the left and to the right. Penelope had amazing precision even when it was just a freestyle. She didn't take a single pause. The girls cheered as she began to drop it like it’s hot. She looked at the mirror as she did her final pose with a rock sign on her hand and tongue out. I clapped my hands loudly as Penlope walked back to her spot.

“GIRL YOU WERE AMAZING!” I applauded. 

“Thanks. That felt nice!” Penlope took a sip of water.

“Not that bad,” I mocked,  “You were awesome! How do you do that?” 

Penelope laughed, “Do what?”

“Just … get into that character. How do you express your emotions like THAT?”

“You just need to relax. Sure execution and getting the moves right are important in dance. However, in dance you're supposed to be telling a story through your moves. Through your facial expressions. I was just trying to release my inner Nicki Minaj!”

“Well it worked.” I said.

“You were doing it before too when you were dancing,” Penelope said, “I couldn’t hear the song you were playing, but I saw and I understood the feeling of the dance through your face. I saw vulnerability and sadness. That's what the audience is supposed to feel. Give them a lens of what you're seeing through your eyes. Just… dance.”

“That was well put.” I said.

“The college classes are paying off I guess.” She joked.

We laughed as we talked more about ourselves since our first interaction wasn’t the best. Penelope was actually very interesting. She's orginally from Regina, Canada, but she came here to Toronto for college. She’s 20 years old and she’s majoring in Psychology. She’s been dancing ever since she was 4 years old.

After, I told her a little bit about me. How I’m half Viet from my father’s side and a quarter Italian, quarter Mexican from her mother side. I told her that I'm also 20 and I'm an undecided major. It was actually a very nice talk.

“Okay I chose the solo,” Coach Kelsey stated, “I just want to say you guys all did so well.”

I already knew Penlope was going to get picked, but I still listened to what Coach Kelesey had to say.

“The reason I chose this solo is because I felt the most energy and the most sass from this person. So congratulations…PENELOPE. You did amazing!”

The girls clapped for Penelope as she blushed.

“For the girls that didn’t get the solo,” Coach Kelsey said, “Don’t worry. There is still a chance. As you all know, for the dance showcase happening in 2 weeks, there are group performances as well as individual performances. I, as well as all the other directors of all the studios competing, choose the top 3 dancers of our studio to compete in the individual category.”

I looked at Irene, who flipped hair, smirking. Penelope’s right, she is cocky.

“I really hope I’m one of the three picked. I really want to dance to Havana by Camilla Cabello.” Penelope mentioned.

“I have no doubt that you’re going to be picked. You’re so good.” I assured her.

“Don’t count yourself out either. You just got here and you already dance better than most of the girls here.” Penelope praised.

“You really think so?” I asked.

“Absolutely girl!” She gave me a light shoulder punch.

“Okay girls. That’s it for today. Practice again tomorrow, same time! See you tomorrow!” Coach Kelsey said.

I took my dance shoes off and replaced them with my sneakers, “Bye Penelope!”

“Bye!”

Irene walked up to me, “Adios, novota.”

          “Goodbye, newbie.”

I rolled my eyes. 

I wasn't going to let her bring down my mood.

-                                       -                                            -                                             

AT HOME...

I put my keys on the table and grabbed a snack. I kept thinking about what Penelope said about the true meaning of dance. You're supposed to be telling a story through your moves. Through your facial expressions. I put Train Wreck on again on my phone at full volume. She said to give the audience a lense of what you're seeing through your eyes. I think of those dark times. When I had to feel like I had to choose between two people I love and care about. From when I only saw peace to fighting every second after. 

My

 Parent’s

 Divorce. 

I haven’t fully gotten over it. It took me by surprise. My parents never fought beforehand. Or at least, I wasn't there for any of them. 

I put my left hand out and then my right. I circled my head around recollecting those times- those dark emotions  that I can’t call long gone. Just dance. I felt a tear coming down my cheek, but I wasn’t going to stop. I was too deep into the song. However, then again,I felt a shoulder tap. It couldn’t have been Penelope. So the only person it could’ve been was…

“Hey mom-” I greeted.

“Good afternoon honey, you were amazing. Did the dance class go well?” She asked.

“Yeah it went well. I’m going again tomorrow.” I said.

“That’s amazing. I’ll make dinner now!” My mom had a smile on her face. 

Ever since the divorce, I haven’t really gone out. I don’t live in the dorms. I don’t go out with friends due to… not having any.  The news of me being somewhere other than my room was great for her.

I walked to my room and closed the door behind me. I finally breathed. Dancing now felt like a form of poetry, but instead of writing down my thoughts-

 I illustrate them through my body. 

This tension that I have been feeling for so long felt like it was fading.

 I laid my back against the door and smiled. Something I haven’t done in my “routine” in a long time. I think I’m going to like this.