A Dance of Life and Death

I was never a dancer. I was tall, wide, and chubby. I could barely walk let alone perform the dance moves I had seen some of these performers. I took care of the campus, making sure the rooms were well kept, the equipment returned after rehearsals, and the trash didn't overflow with half eaten granola bars and pre-made salads.

I was watching one of the rehearsal one day, my arms crossed and my eyes following the movements of the dancers as they made sure their movements were crisp in the long mirror. There was one man in particular that always caught my eye and he would catch me looking at him in the mirror. I never said anything to him, thinking he would definitely say no. I was about his age so why couldn't we go out on a date? Rehearsal ended and I was going to say something to him, but decided against it. Unfortunately, he caught me before I could leave.

"Why do you always stare at me?" He was much more aggressive than I thought he was going to me.

"Sorry, you all are just so good at what you do." I said with a smile, meeting him with kindness.

"Well stop. You always distract me. Do whatever it is your good at." He crushed a plastic water bottle and tossed it on the ground. He shoved himself past me and I watched him walk away while my face flushed hot.

"That was rude." I heard a voice say.

"Right?" I responded. When I turned to see who it was I found that I was alone with the crushed bottle on the ground. I thought nothing of it, to distracted by the fact that this man was so cruel. I don't know why I expected any less.

The following day it was business as usual except I made sure I wasn't in view when i was watching them rehearse. I peered around the window and watched as the pre-recorded piano filled the studio. I didn't think he would notice, but somehow he did. Over the next few days i was finding things that had never been there before, knocked over equipment, garbage bins that had been tipped over, even writing in the bathroom specifically calling me out for being a creep. I didn't know what to do except talk to him.

So, rehearsal finished on the day I had enough and I walked right up to him. The room cleared quickly and we were left alone. He was shirtless except for a pair of black shorts cut to leave nothing to the imagination. He smirked when I stopped in front of him.

"What did I do to you?" I asked.

"You're just creepy." He rolled his eyes and started walking away from me.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you." I pulled his arm. I regretted it immediately. I wasn't sure what came over me.

"Don't fucking touch me. You're nothing and you always will be." He spit on the ground. "Now clean that up." My face got so hot that I thought steam would come out of my ears or my eyes would burst inside their sockets, but instead everything went black. When I finally came to I was looking at the dancer on the ground with blank eyes. I didn't know what happened, but from what I could tell I must have pushed him too hard and he knocked out.

I checked for a pulse. Nothing.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" I made sure no one had seen anything before I tried making a plan. Do I call the police? I could say he fell. But he's a dancer, he's supposed to have excellent balance. They would never believe me.

While I was panicking, his body started to move behind me. His chest puffed up and his mouth opened and snapped shut. His fingers curled just as his arms would twist and I finally turned around to him standing up.

"Holy shit are you okay?" I was reaching out to him, but he just gasped as he looked down at himself. Was he admiring his body? Maybe he had a concussion.

"It feels so good to be alive again." He went from checking himself out to doing stretches. Arms extending across his body, legs jumping and finally a roll of his neck. Something popped back into place just as he locked eyes with me.

"What's happening?" I was confused. Still panicking because of the assault charges that might come my way. Maybe he didn't remember?

"I'm sorry about the way he treated you. You didn't deserve that all." He reached his hand out and gently caressed my arm.

"He? What do you mean?"

"Oh. That little burst of anger was super helpful. When he knocked out it gave me full access to his body. You see, I've been watching you for a while now. I'm an old dance instructor here. Years ago now. Too many. I always thought dancing was for everyone no matter how you looked." He was standing oddly close and this sudden change in attitude was alarming albeit much more flattering.

"I think you may have hit your head a little hard. I'll call someone." I said, turning away. I felt him grab my hand and then pull me towards him.

"It's been so long since I've felt another person. I love a man with some meat on his bones." He was staring into my eyes as I looked down at him and I was definitely starting to tent my work pants.

"What's happening?"

"I'm dead! Well not anymore thanks to you. That's what I've been trying to say. He died and I took his place. Honestly it works out for all of us. You don't go to jail for murder, I get a new body, and the world no longer has an asshole running around. Especially packing a weapon like this." He had pulled open his shorts and was now staring inside.

"I think maybe I should go." I said. I wasn't confused anymore, maybe a little frightened.

"I think you should get to use this body just like I am going to. A nice reward for putting up with his shit. He really treated you like dirt." He looked down again, distracted momentarily by his bouncing pecs. His eyes darted to my hands and he reached out and grabbed them, cupping his bulge with my fingers. I didn't pull away, I was too enthralled with this new person.

"I think I'd like that." I said, my fingers squeezing. He enjoyed that.

"Maybe we can hang around each other. Like I said. I love a man with some meat." He reached down and grabbed my cock, but I knew he just meant me. I stumbled backwards when he pushed into me, my back hitting the mirrors. We were suddenly swept up in touching each other, his hands sliding up my shirt while my hands slide along his body. We were both admiring each other, something he probably wouldn't have done without this new entity controlling him. I definitely didn't mind, especially when his hand slipped into my pants and started squeezing my cock.

"Are you two okay?" The voice came from the door, it was a stage manager. I pushed him off the moment I heard her.

"Yeah, just clearing things up." I said. This seemed to appease her because she squinted with her thick black binder and disappeared out the door. I sighed in relief and looked at the dancer.

"What even is your name?" I asked.

"I used to be called Franklin. Last name Frick. From what I can tell my new name is Peter. I kind of like it." He flexed again.

"Well, I'm Mitch. Nice to meet you." I held out my hand. I wasn't sure why but it felt like a proper greeting.

"Oh I know. I've been watching you since you started here. I'm happy I finally get the chance to get to know you." He grabbed my hand and started pulling me out of the building. I noticed on the way way out the name of the founder of the studio, his name flashing in bold as we passed it. Franklin Frick.