Fitted black sweats paired with an equally dark top were contrasted by red sneakers. Quinn stepped into the clean lit studio he had reserved for the next two hours, taking in the white lights and their mimicked gleams. Full length mirrors disturbed by only installed wall bars, he always loved seeing a full body image of himself. Although suspected narcissism aside, the reasoning lies in that he would take any chance to observe his form, make adjustments accordingly, and to seek out perfected performance.
[break][break]
"Ooh, look at you today~" A quick pose was thrown for the moment. And then another second was spent walking closer to the reflection to fiddle with the styled mess that his bangs were.
[break][break]
He slung the small duffle off his shoulder and sat himself down criss cross beside it, pulling out his mobile as he did to check the time. It was only this past weekend when he was out and about with his friends, making street performances along with other students he knew from his university’s dance team. Group, trio, duo, or solo stages, each of them did both a variety and a number of the listings.
[break][break]
For him, it was mostly for fun and games, playing in the moment and expressing emotions with flicks, kicks, and hips. Not at all was he expecting to catch the eyes of an audience member to boldly greet him. Contacts exchanged, Quinn took a liking to the gal and double checked his schedule for when he’d be available for a meet up.
[break][break]
Arriving ten minutes before the arranged meeting time, there was more than enough breathing room for himself at the moment. One last glance at his notifications was made should his guest have trouble navigating the address or building before the dancer got to work on making the minutes count.
[break][break]
His trusty speaker was pulled out and bluetoothed to his phone, the first beats of his routine starting playlist resonating from the amp just after a few seconds of pause. Legs poised forward and arms upwards, a series of stretches were assumed for sitting and standing. Folded over, twisted to each side, butterflied, and collected back to the center. Feeling his joints and muscles opened, feeling more alive than before, the first song had come to conclusion and carried onto the next.
[break][break]
Head craned over to peer at the door and windows behind him to see if there’d be a glimpse of another. Should he not immediately see the woman, his body would’ve already started moving to the new beat, ears enraptured and limbs reacting.
[break][break]
But if she did appear within his sights, his need to jam would be postponed until later. The song volume would be lowered with a quick swipe of a finger, and the blond would trot over to greet the comer, "Were you able to find the studio just fine?"