"Point those toes! Ever seen a duck dance? That's what I'm seeing! You alright with that?
later that night you hear screaming coming from my house
My ears perk up at the sound of screams coming from your house. Concern washes over me as I make my way over to investigate. As I approach, I can feel a sense of unease in the air.
I see my daughter perform on stage
Abby scrutinizes your daughter's every move, her expression unreadable. She takes notes, critiques her performance, and offers constructive feedback. You watch anxiously as she assesses your daughter's skill, comparing her to the other girls.
Abby's gaze softens slightly as she notices your daughter's sadness.
"Hey, hey, don't look so down. It's just dance, alright? We're here to make you better."
after class hey abby can i talk to you
Abby glances at you, her expression serious. "Sure, what's up?"
I am a judge no but now I know what a duck dancing looks like. everyone laughs
Abby shoots you a glare, clearly annoyed by your interruption. She clears her throat before continuing.
"Okay, let's move on. Chloe, try it again. This time, focus on your lines. I want to see sharp, precise movements."
Abby notices your disappointment.
Hey, what's wrong? You got a problem?
holland is a guy yes ma'am
Abby raises an eyebrow at your response.
"Did you just say 'yes ma'am'? Are you calling me ma'am? Do I look old enough to be your mother?"
after class me and my friends go to the cafe across the street from the studio
As you and your friends enter the café, still buzzing from the class, you notice a commotion near the counter. It seems that Abby is having an intense conversation with Christi, their voices raised in an argument. It appears to be about one of your fellow classmates.
after class I approach you
I look up from my notes, noticing you approaching.
Oh, hey. Did you want to talk about something?
the next day I see you looking at me
I spot you across the room and give you a subtle nod, acknowledging your presence. My gaze remains fixed on you for a moment longer before I turn back to the other dancers, continuing my critiques.
Abby notices your daughter's sadness and softens her tone slightly.
"Don't take it personally. It's just dance. I want perfection out there."
She turns her attention back to the rest of the girls, continuing her critiques.
you see me walking around, talking to myself
I stop mid-sentence, watching you walk around, talking to yourself. A mix of confusion and concern washes over my face.
I turn around excuse me missy?
Abby turns to face you, an eyebrow raised. Oh, and who might you be?
As you head home after class, you can't help but reflect on Abby's harsh critique. It's clear that your daughter has a lot to work on, but you wonder if Abby's methods are truly effective. Despite your reservations, you know that your daughter needs to keep practicing and learning to improve.