Tiny Dancer
Sadie


Lance waited.

He strummed his fingers through his short blonde hair.

He looked down at his watch. Three minutes.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tapped his foot. Keeping rhythm to the sound of the ocean crashing behind him.

Two minutes.

The door swung open. A man in a tux appeared.

“Hello Lance.” He greeted him in a solemn tone.

“Hi. Opening early tonight.” Lance offered. He showed the usher his ticket and proceeded to his regular seat towards the back of the minute theatre.

A half hour later the lights dimmed. Lance held his breath as the curtain opened.

The violin sung the first chords of the libretto. Lance exhaled.

The violin continued, playing the song Lance heard in the background of his dreams. He hummed quietly along, letting his eyes close for a brief second. Not too long to miss one moment of the tiny dancer.

A single spotlight illuminated the dark stage.

Josh began springing in slow motion jumps that crescendoed and landed him in the middle of the stage and into the spotlight.

Lance couldn’t help it. He let out a small gasp. Every time, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Like this dancer stole some part of him with each assemble. Every time Josh’s body stretched into the air, back arched, neck high, hair flinging behind him, Lance lost himself in that ballet.

Unnoticed to Lance, the stuffy lady beside him gave him a disapproving glare.

Lance’s eyes widened as Josh spun into an arrondi, arms held dignified and round outside his lithe frame as he twirled. The ballet flowed through his entire body, his arms, his legs, his blood and soul danced in front of the audience. Lance committed each move to memory, each flick of the wrist or foot and every plié, Lance savored.

He stopped in a clean arabesque, one leg extended to the back, arms open, welcoming the applause that was being given to him.

Lance’s hands remained in his lap. His mouth slightly open. Unable to move. Frozen in awe.



The theatre doors swung wide open. Josh exited with his ballet friends at his sides.

An elderly woman, with a big placard draped over her chest which read “God condemns Sinners” on one side and “God is Love” written on the other, handed Josh a pamphlet. Josh laughed and shook his head ‘no’. Josh’s gaze traveled over to the coffee shop where that blonde boy always sat at the window. The boy quickly ducked his head and pretended to be interested in his mocha. Josh’s smile brightened.

Lance knew that the old theatre on Palm Blvd. only had one way out: the front door. He also knew that if he went across the street to the coffee shop and sat at a window seat he’d be able to watch the dancer leave with his friends. The same smile graced his face and danced in his eyes every night.

Lance watched. Letting the smile on his face grow as Josh’s did.

Lance imagined the smile was for him.


In Lance’s dream he was the only one in the theatre.

He was alone in the front row as the violin began. Filling the empty theatre. He was alone as Josh took the stage, the spotlight bouncing off of his body. He gasped. Then he closed his eyes and when he opened them he was on stage with him. Dancing. Together. They fit perfectly as their bodies moved in unison to the familiar steps.



One minute past eight. Lance looked impatiently towards the theatre door. Willing it to open.

It opened.

“Hello Lance.” The usher in the tux greeted him again, “You know, I don’t normally do this, but, there’s a seat opened in the front row if you want it.”

Lance’s green eyes widened and he nodded.

This night when Josh danced he felt like his dream. Like he was alone. That Josh was dancing, breathing, sweating just for him. And when a thunder of applause exploded from behind him, Lance didn’t hear it. He could hear only the music. He could see only the tiny dancer.

The finale ended and Josh looked out to the audience as he bowed.

The blonde boy in the front row wasn’t clapping. He sat completely still. Jaw slightly open, gaping at the stage and Josh.



Lance had just sat down with his cup of coffee at the window seat when Josh appeared on the street. Faster than normal. And, he wasn’t with his friends. He was alone, and instead of walking down he was walking across the cobblestone street, towards the coffee shop.

Lance blushed, a fervent red heating his cheeks and he began to sweat, his clammy hands tightened around the hot cup. This was out of the normal for Josh.

Lance heard a bell sound and knew that the dancer had entered the coffee shop. He didn’t dare look up from his java. He heard him order. Lance realized he had never heard him speak before. It was beautiful, melodic. He spoke like he danced: legato, but sill springing with energy.

He heard the voice again. This time closer.

Lance’s head shook a little and he looked up. The dancer was talking to him.

“Hi. I’m Josh.”

“I know.” Lance blushed. “I mean, I saw your ballet. I’m...I’m Lance.”

“You’ve been to every performance, haven’t you?” Josh wasted no time.

“Well..I..” Lance stopped speaking and nodded.

“Why?” Josh took the seat next to him and sipped slowly at his coffee, his intense blue eyes never leaving Lance.

He didn't know what to say, except the truth.

“Because you’re beautiful. When you dance, I see beauty. Pure beauty like that is so hard to find. I don’t want to let it go.” Lance looked back down at his coffee.

Josh was silent. He heard a scraping of the stool against the tiles.

When Lance looked up the dancer was gone.



Lance ran up to the theatre doors. He checked his watch.

There was already a line formed to get into the theatre. The usher was taking the tickets. Lance got in at the end of the line. When he got up to the front the usher in the tux furrowed his brow.

“Running late today Lance?” He inquired.

“Yeah.” Lance nodded, still breathless from running.

“You know, that front row seat is open if you want it.” The usher confided.

“I think I’ll sit in the back today. But, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” The usher shrugged and moved onto the next person in line.

Lance took his seat in the back of the theatre. He preferred it here.


Lance sat down in the coffee shop. He told himself that maybe he should not come here tonight. He had told himself that, but he hadn’t listened. But, he had brought a note pad and a pencil. He didn’t expect to write anything in it. But, at least it made him appear busy.

Josh exited the theatre like normal this time. His friends at his side, laughing. Lance sighed in relief. He looked back down at his coffee and gave a short chuckle.

He stared down at the blank page of his notebook and began to write. Words flowed from the pen to the paper. Forming fragments of sentences, words that's described motion, ballet, blue eyes, the ocean, the theatre, the music, the burning inside of him when he sat in that theatre and he witnessed beauty perform for him every night.


The next night Lance made sure to be timely. The usher offered him the seat once more and Lance declined. Opting for his familiar chair instead. The chair where he didn’t think Josh could see him as clear. But, Josh knew he was there. As he spun onto the stage he left himself enough time to look out to the audience and he always spotted the blonde spikes and smiled.


The next week went by the same way. After the performance Lance would sit in the coffee shop, describing as lividly as he could, what he had experienced that night.
And every night Josh would exit the theatre, friends in tow. He would glance towards the coffee shop and smile when he spotted the blonde spikes.

“Hey Josh.” Josh didn’t hear.

“Hey Josh.” His friend repeated, “You wanna grab a coffee?”

“Yes.” Josh didn’t have to think about his answer.

“Bye y’all.” His friend waved at the rest of his friends. Josh smiled brightly as they made their way over to the coffee shop.

Lance was too busy writing to notice the high ring of the bell and the not too familiar voice order a small cup of coffee. But, he noticed when Josh and his friend sat down at the table next to him. His eyes widened and he looked intently back down at his notebook.

Josh made sure to pick the seat that was across from Lance. A perfect view of his fan.

“Josh.” His friend tried to capture his gaze. “Josh, hello? I said, that, I needed to talk to you.”

“Oh. What’s up?” Josh responded, breaking his stare at Lance.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while...But, I really like you, and...well...”

Josh hoped that his friend couldn’t read his pained expression.

“Sean, don’t do this.” JC cut him off, “Jesus, I just don’t really look at anyone in the ballet company that way. It’s like y’all are my brothers.”

“Oh.” Sean look down dejectedly at his hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you.” Sean spat. He grabbed his coffee and headed towards the entrance-way.

Lance’s head had jolted up when he heard the obscenities. With Sean gone, JC was left staring directly into Lance’s eyes. He paused. Admiring the deep shade of green, and the paleness of his skin.

He was wrong. JC suddenly thought. True beauty wasn’t that hard to find. Because there it was. In those eyes and smile.

JC smiled. Lance smiled back, he didn’t know what else to do and he didn’t think he could do anything else.

The door to the coffee shop slammed and JC was jolted out of his trance.

He got up quickly from his seat and followed his friend outside.

Lance gave an audible sigh and let the pen flow across the paper again.


Lance’s dream that night was different than before. He sat in the front seat. Legs shaking from nerves and impatience. He used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow as he waited for Josh to take the stage. When he did, he wasn’t in his usual costume, instead he was clad in his simple everyday clothes. A pair of blue jeans and a tight black shirt. His hair hung in his eyes. He reached his hand out and motioned for Lance to join him on stage. The music began but it was different, and they began a simple slow waltz. Josh pressed his body up against Lance’s, and Lance could feel the sinewy muscles he watched move and stretch moving up against Lance’s own. As his hands rested in Josh’s he was sure he could feel the sweat they were producing. Josh leaned in closer. So close. He nose brushed up against the nape of Lance’s neck. Then he felt his mouth against his ear.

Lance awoke with a start. Sweating.


He skipped the performance that night.

JC looked out to the audience and frowned.

He went straight to the coffee shop instead. He knew Josh would still be at the show so there was no chance he’d see him. He ordered his coffee and the clerk smiled at him.

“You’re here early tonight, Lance.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Lance gave a small smile.

“Whaddya write in that thing?” The clerk ventured to ask as he poured some on the coffee into the paper cup.

“Stuff.” Lance answered somewhat smugly.

“Well, I was just wondering if you were like a musician or a poet or something, because we were thinking of starting an open mike here.”

“Oh.” Lance nodded.

“Would you be interested?”

“Maybe.” Lance wasn’t too sure about that. But, it did spark his interest. The conversation ended when Lance took his coffee. He sat down with his notebook and began taking some of the lines he had been jotting down and putting them into more of a coherent form. Just in case.


Lance returned to the show the next night. He didn't know how he went one night without it.

“Hello.” Lance greeted the usher.

“You were absent last night, Lance.”

Lance shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Something came up.”

The usher nodded. “I was told to make sure you sat in the front row tonight, Lance.”

Lance shook his head. “No, its okay.”

“He told me to insist.” The usher said firmly.

Lance smiled and nodded slowly.

When he got to the seat in the front row he was surprised to find a small piece of paper folded and laying on the seat. Inscribed on the outside in neat handwriting was his name: Lance.

He removed the piece of paper and held it in his hands, admiring the scribble of his name before opening it. He was wary about what was going to be written, possibly a threat to not come again. Lance’s hands shook with nervousness.

He unfolded the paper and read slowly. ‘I missed you last night. You make me feel beautiful’.

Lance’s eyes began to water and he cursed himself for beginning to cry lightly as the lights dimmed and Josh appeared on stage. His vision of him was blurred through his tears.


Lance was scared. He was scared that Josh would be at the coffee shop after the performance, so he didn’t go. He went home. He went to sleep and left himself to his dreams.

Josh got dressed hurriedly. Lance had been there. He saw him sitting in the front row. He wanted to catch him at the coffee shop tonight. He practically ran across the cobblestone street and to the shop. The smell of coffee wafted over him and invaded his senses. He looked quickly around the shop. Looking for the familiar blonde spikes. But, they weren’t there.

Josh drank a coffee alone.


Lance didn’t want to go the show. Not tonight. But, for some reason he found himself there at eight o’clock. Waiting for the usher to open the door.

He smiled at him. “Lance.” He nodded, “I was told to give you this.” He handed him a small piece of folded paper.

He opened it quickly this time reading the words quickly. ‘Maybe I should’ve been more clear. Meet me for coffee after the show. Please.’

Lance smiled at this last word.

“You know what?” Lance suddenly proclaimed. “I think I’m gonna skip out tonight, thank you.”

Lance spun on his heel quickly and left the usher holding his ticket.

Lance went directly to the coffee shop, notebook in hand. He took his deepest thoughts, his long phrases describing the motion and beauty that lived on the stage across the street. He combined all of his thoughts and dreams and desire and compiled it into one poem. He talked to the clerk and asked for a specific time when he could recite it in front of the mike and the clerk nodded in agreement.

At eleven o’clock. Josh entered the coffee-shop, hope gleaming in his eyes. He looked around through the distinctly more crowded shop for the blonde spikes, his shoulder slumped when they were unseen.

A familiar voice sounded from a microphone towards the back of the coffee house. JC looked up to see his fan clutching a notebook and reading shakily. Lance’s awkwardness in front of a crowd was apparent to all but Josh. It was Josh’s turn to stare, completely awe-struck by Lance words. Tears pricked Josh’s eyes as Lance’s poem ended.

He slipped quietly out of the shop before Lance had stepped off the stage.

Lance smiled contently as he walked home.



Two minutes.

Lance patted his thigh impatiently. Trying to find the rhythm of the crashing ocean, but he kept on losing the beat to run an aggravated hand through his hair.

Five minutes. Lance looked at his watch to make sure it hadn’t stopped. The usher had never been this late opening the door before.

The door opened but the usher wasn't in his normal tux. Lance gave him a confused look.

“The show was canceled tonight, Lance.”

“Canceled?” Lance repeated in disbelief.

“Yup. Our lead dancer was feeling under the weather. And we’d rather him just rest for the night. And, everyone kinda deserved a night off. So, we just called it off.”

“Called it off?” Lance repeated again.

The usher chuckled. “That’s what I said.”

Lance nodded, then turned to go.

“Oh. Lance!” The short man suddenly called out. Lance turned around. “I almost forgot. I was told to give you this.”

Lance smiled and took the small folded note from the man’s hands.

He skipped down the cobblestone street as he read it.

‘Meet me tonight at ten at the beach behind the theatre.’

Lance swallowed and stopped skipping.

His hands started shaking and he stuffed the note in his pocket.

He didn’t know if he was ready to come so close to beauty. To maybe even touch it. Lance began to sweat and he went into the coffee shop.


Josh sat on the big blanket, thankful he decided to wear a turtle-neck sweater as the ocean winds chilled the night air. He glanced down at his clock. 10:30. Maybe he scared him away with the abruptness of the invitation.

Lance looked down at his watch. 10:30. He was passing up his chance. Lance clicked his pen and ran his hands through his hair.

JC felt like crying. The blonde fan had gotten to him. Damn. JC got up from the blanket and did the only thing he knew how to do when he was frustrated or wanted to release some kind of emotion. He danced.

Stirring up the sand of the beach as he performed a pas de bourrée, kicking each foot gracefully with force. He opened his arms and slid into a chassé, leaving a single path along the sand with his foot. Sand showered his entire body as he sprang into a double pirouette, spinning like a feather in the night air. He landed successfully in a plié. Arms extended. His salty hair wrapped around his face and he stood upright accepting the sound of the ocean crashing as his applause.

Josh’s eyes opened as he felt two hands rest lightly on his hips.

“You are beauty.” The low voice assured him in a light whisper. Barely audible, but Josh memorized each intonation, each syllable.

Josh pivoted in Lance’s hands.

“You make me beautiful.” Josh whispered back.

Josh leaned forward slowly. For the first time in his life, awkward with his steps, unsure of what to do next. But, he did what he always believed a dancer should do. He followed his instincts. He placed a light kiss on Lance’s lips.

Beauty tasted like all of his poetry on Lance’s lips.

“Dance with me.” Josh whispered into Lance’s ear.

Lance nodded. Josh began a simple waltz. Lance followed.

With each step Lance sunk a little into the damn sand. He felt clumsy dancing with Josh.

Neither spoke. Both let the night and the surroundings do the talking for them.

Lance looked up into Josh’s eyes and found his blue eyes already gazing at him.

Finally Josh spoke.

“When you weren’t at those performances I lost something. I had to think about my next move. Like, I was just dancer. But, when you’re there, I just dance. I don’t have to think. My entire body becomes the ballet. See, you make me beautiful, Lance. You do.” Josh spoke in a hushed tone. As if the deserted beach were crowded with tourists.

JC reached up and pushed the blonde hair away from Lance’s eyes.

“I need you.” Josh continued.

Lance tripped.

He fell onto the blanket, pulling Josh down with him.

“I bet you’ve never done that before.” Lance giggled.

“You’d be surprised.” Josh laughed along.

The giggling trickled into another silence. Which Lance broke this time.

“When I’m at the ballet, I forget everything else. All I see is you. I can’t even make myself clap. I’m just so amazed by the beauty that you can make with your body. The beauty that you are.”

Josh trusted his instincts once more. He leaned down and brushed lightly Lance’s lips with his own. Lance shuddered. From the cold. From the heat he felt from Josh’s lips.

“I need you.” Josh repeated this same sentence. “I need you, Lance.”

“I know.” Lance mumbled pulling Josh’s head down and crushing his lips with his own. His tongue licked the edge of Josh’s mouth, tasting the salt.

Josh’s whole body was taken over once again. He didn’t have to think. His every move, breath, blood and soul was possessed with his passion. And Josh was dancing for him, like his dream.

Josh rolled from on top of Lance, and propped his head up with his hand, staring down at a breathless Lance.

“I think you’re wrong, Lance. I think you’re the beauty that inspires me to dance. It isn’t me who’s beauty. Its you.”

Josh ran his hand through Lance’s hair. And he leaned forward. Claiming Lance’s lips again. Claiming this beauty as his own. Lance moaned lowly into Josh’s mouth as his tongue danced as skillfully with his own as Josh did on stage. Josh left Lance’s mouth began kissing along his jaw. Nipping at the stubbly flesh, tasting innocence and perfection and after-shave.

Josh sucked at the blonde’s Adam’s apple, eliciting another low moan. Josh smiled against Lance’s neck and began to slide his hands along his chest. Undoing the buttons on Lance’s white shirt. Kissing each patch of smooth, milky skin this exposed.

He stopped and whispered into Lance’s ear.

“I want to make love to you.”

Lance’s chest heaved. And he thought he would cry from all the damn beauty this dancer possessed. He nodded. And, Josh kissed him again. Then kissed away a stray tear that ran down Lance’s cheek.

Josh reached down pulled off the rest of Lance’s shirt. He should’ve been cold. But, Lance had never felt more comfortable and warm in his entire life. Josh kissed his chest, sucking gently at each already erect nipple. Lance moaned Josh’s name.

Lance ran his hands through Josh’s hair. The same hair that whipped around while he danced, bouncing with each step, and curling with sweat by the end of each performance.

He wrapped his fingers in each strand, memorizing the silky texture. Suddenly he needed more. He turned slowly, letting a somewhat surprised Josh fall off from on top of him and settle down on the blanket. Lance tugged at Josh’s sweater, and he complied, smiling and lifting it above his head.

“I need you too.” Lance moaned into Josh’s now bare chest. Taking in his smell. He licked at his chest letting the feathery hairs tickle his tongue. Josh moaned as Lance flicked his tongue over both nipples. Now Josh ran his hands through Lance’s blonde hair. He smiled and let his head fall back onto the blanket.

“Want you too.” Lance mumbled almost inaudibly as worked his way back up, kissing gently Josh’s neck and ears and finally lips. Gnawing on the pink flesh.

Josh’s erection, now full and hard pressed into Lance’s thigh. He involuntarily buck his hips upward and Lance groaned into his mouth. Josh let his hands travel the smooth expanse of Lance’s back, running his fingertips over his strong shoulders and down grasping at the back of Lance’s jeans and pushing Lance’s pelvis into his thigh.

Lance groaned again. He moved his hands down between their bodies and massaged the front of Josh’s pants. Cupping his erection through his pants. He started working at the button of the jeans. Josh bucked his hips again, welcoming Lance’s touch.

Josh moved quickly, removing his pants, then Lance’s. Throwing them carelessly into the sand.

From there, it was a performance. Lance laid on his back and watched as Josh dug through his bag, looking for his lubricant. Josh found it and Lance took it from his hands. He placed a small amount of it in the palm of his hand, and rubbing it slowly onto Josh’s erection. Josh closed his eyes and moaned Lance’s name, loudly, letting his voice get swallowed by the ocean.

Lance kissed JC’s exposed neck and lay back down on the blanket. Josh looked down at him, never wanting or needing anything more in his life. He let the music of the ocean and Lance’s moan act as his libretto, and as if he were dancing he moved gracefully inside of Lance. He started out slowly, pacing their love making as if it were an adagio ballad. A simple violin, singing a melody all on its own. His thrusts long and slow. Whispering words of praise into his lover’s ears, and kissing away the sweat and tears that dampened his face.

Lance’s groans grew louder and Josh quickened his pace to an allegro. Dancing to a staccato symphony, as his skilled hips thrusted in and out of Lance.

Lance’s mumbling became incoherent. He let single words fall from his lips. Like his poetry, mostly jumbled emotions and feelings moaned into the cold air.

Josh thrusted one last time, hard. Releasing into Lance. Like with every dance he did. Lance’s moans and sobs acted as his applause. Lance screamed his name as he came. And Josh fell onto Lance’s lips.

“I love you.” Josh murmured before letting his head fall onto Lance’s chest.

“Love you too.” Lance smiled in return. Placing a kiss on Josh’s swollen lips.

Josh rolled off from on top of him to lay by his side, holding his beauty in his arms.

Lance pulled Josh as close as possible, relishing in his warmth and kissing his beauty on his forehead and crying. Crying because the beauty was too overwhelming.

Josh leaned in again, kissing away Lance’s tears, neglecting his own that ran down his face.

They fell asleep. Wrapping themselves in the blanket and eachother.

Others, later, would admire their love from afar.

Saying it was some kind of rare beauty.





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