Chapter 3
***
Ty Lee:
The next day, classes start, and the mystery of Azula fades to the back of my mind. I love college- the way I can be my own person. My dance classes were one of the few places I can truly feel unique. Nobody else can dance as I can. Plus, in dance, the other girls admire me for my skill- not just my looks. They're never trying to hit on me with clingy touches and poorly-planned one-liners.
"Hey, Ty Lee!" I hear my coach say as I walk into the studio. The room is big and mostly empty- mirrors line every wall, with windows near the top that let the warm sunlight in. The hardwood floors are mostly pristine, not too slippery, with the occasional small scratch, and today, they are covered with girls in matching warmup gear, stretching, and gossiping. My coach walks over, a young, muscular woman with dark skin named Nyela, and she claps me on the shoulder. We've been working together all summer. Dance is pretty intense. "How is your first day of classes going?"
"Just great!" I chirp. All I've had so far is a psych class, and then this one- I spent the rest of the day sleeping in after last night's party.
"Ready for solo work?" She asks me as I set my bag down in the corner.
"Born ready," I reply, beginning my stretches to get my sore muscles warmed up. As I stretch, the gentle buzz of the studio filling my mind, I push thoughts of last night away. It's making me question things, and I don't really want to think about it. As I watch the rest of the team go one by one, performing their solos as we watch, I wait for Nyela to call me up, but she makes me go last.
Azula pops into my mind the moment I start dancing, the rest of the team falling to the sides of the studio to watch. The song I dance to is called Experience, by Ludovico Einaudi, and I've practiced it for months, but I have never danced to it like this. My limbs move almost of their own accord, as I close my eyes. Never I have danced with my eyes closed. All I can hear is the music, when before, I just used to hear my own voice, saying, "step, twirl, arch, leap." I can feel every part of me reacting in a way I have never reacted before- my fingers twitch and stretch, and I throw myself into every move significantly more passionately. When the song ends, my muscles still, and I open my eyes, I hear deafening applause, It's not the first thing I notice, though. I see a shadow, hovering in the shadows by the entrance, with piercing golden eyes, watching my every move.
Somehow, Azula found me, and she watched that entire performance.
***
Azula:
"Azula!" The strange girl cries momentarily after she finishes her- interesting- performance and the coach dismisses the team full of idiots in matching outfits. Snatching her duffel bag off the corner of the room, she jogs over to meet me, panting slightly. "What did you think? What- what are you doing here?"
"If you're talking about your performance, it was strange," I sniff. "My father wouldn't have approved." Her delicate face turns into a frown, but she brushes it off. It's as if she's glowing. Something about the dancing did that to her. I wonder what it would be like, to find something that makes me glow.
"Ok, well, what are you doing here?" We push open the glass doors, the morning light shining much more brilliantly than it does outside. All around us, kids in tiny cliques make their way to their classes. A couple of kids wave at Ty Lee, but she ignores them.
"I require your assistance, Ty Lee," I tell her, as formerly as possible. "As you know, a art credit is required for graduating this university, so I signed up for Design 1, as advised by my advisors."
"Ok..."
"And apparently," I say in my most withering voice, not even eliciting the slightest response, "there is some end of the semester project I must complete."
"That's usually how classes work, Azula," she tells me, a hint of patronizing in her voice. I turn to scold her for daring to speak to me like that, but she's cartwheeling along the sidewalk as if it was walking. It shocks me right back into what I was saying.
"I must paint a contemporary art piece about who I am, underneath the surface. I require an answer to the meaning of this. Underneath the surface, Ty Lee, I am flesh and bone, like anyone else."
"Mhm. That's not what it means," she laughs.
"Preposterous," I scoff. "Is this symbolism or something? I won't stand for it."
"It means, Azula," she says, her voice suddenly serious as she stops to stare at me. The funny thing is, she doesn't glance away from my glare. She meets it, with her big wide eyes that are deceptively strong. "It means, who are you, really?"
"Who am I?" I echo, stopping in my tracks, and she seems to think I'm asking her.
"I don't know. I've only known you for two days, remember?" She laughs as she skips away. "You can figure it out."
Who am I? I ponder this as I stand on the sidewalk, passed by groups of students who look at me nervously. I straighten my business outfit and start to head to my advanced financing class.
What a ridiculous question.
The whole world knows who I am.
a/n: honestly, I am so on the fence about finishing this one. i know where I want it to go, but like, do I want to finish it in five chapters or fifteen? should I even bother finishing it? idk. but yeah.