arrays | [ open ] we'll keep dancing til we die

Some girls dance in the clubs, other girls dance. While most of the girls are glammed up, wearing heels, and basically shuffling and maybe moving their hips in some way that generally promotes sex... Sasha was not these girls, she was showing real dancing talent on the floor, mixing some proper club moves with a few different things and using her ballet training for some extensive showing off.

But, eventually, she skipped her way over to the bar for a drink and to relax. She looks for anyone that might buy her a drink, she didn't have the bust or shoes (both could be accurately described with flats) to grab most attentions, but being as flexible as her should catch a few eyes and earn her a drink.

Gale's earned a bit of a reputation for being a party guy at his school - places like this are just his scene, and it comes with the bonus of having plenty of willing girls around. He does his share of dancing, of course, but he's been hanging around the bar more tonight, simply swaying to the music with drink in hand and watching the undulations of the crowd.

One girl, he notices, stands out from the rest. From what he can tell, she's not exactly his type, but she puts the other girls on the floor to shame, and everyone knows it. She's being pointedly ignored by the girls who are out for a good time, and gets glares from those who are after a little more. The show she put on is intriguing enough, and Gale decides to go have a chat while she takes a break, taking his drink with him.

"There aren't many people who come to a place like this to dance like that," he comments when he's close enough, speaking loudly over the music.

"There aren't many people that can dance like that," Sasha responded. Her reputation was for being an egomaniac ballet dancer. Of course, nothing about her ego wasn't well supported by raw natural talent. She leaned against the bar, trying to look as flirty as she could manage (she's terrible at it, honestly).

"Why, like something you saw?"

He nodded, conceding the point, but chose to ignore the question she posed. It was clear what she was after, and while Gale was hardly here out of completely innocent intentions, it was almost comical how obvious she was being.

"If you want a free drink," he said plainly, tipping his glass to point to a table to his left, "you'll have better luck talking to those guys. Bend the right way, and they'll give you whatever you want. But they're the types that expect more for their trouble." Gale, for his part, was distinctly lacking in cash. More often than not, he snuck in a beer or two with Thom, but today he'd indulged himself in a glass of the house brew.

While it was always nice when a boy bought her a drink, she didn't actually require it. Her parents were both rich and happy to throw shame money at her because of their own issues. She turned to the bartender, "One of what he's having."

She smiled, just a bit smugly, "I'm sure if I took my top off I'd get all sorts of offers too. Pass. I'd rather have company with taste, good diction, and aren't actively willing my clothes off instead of having a conversation with me." She glanced over at him, a little more sarcastic than the flirty look she started with, "Think you can manage that?"

"I'm not so sure about that," Gale countered. "You may have the dancing part down, but you're a little lacking up top, compared to most other girls. Stick to showing off how flexible you can be and you might have better luck."

Yes, he'd looked, and was not ashamed of it in the least.

"It might be tough," he continued, tone dry as a desert. She's still not his type. "But I think I can manage."

[ open ] we'll keep dancing til we die

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