Chapter Text
Isak still thinks he’ll get it back.
It’s a formula, really. If he does what he used to do, exactly like he used to do it, the result will be what it used to be. And he’s kind of desperate for that, so—
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, lets the music sink under his skin until it feels like his blood. This is his fuel, and this is his power. This is what keeps him alive.
He stretches his arm, contracts his chest—and no, this is where he has to be careful. Eva’s choreography is so comfortable on him, almost as natural as walking. He can’t get complacent here: he has to put everything into this. Every inch of his body, every ounce of energy, every fucking emotion he has.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
He expects it to get better when he locks eyes with Eva in the mirror. She’s always understood him, sometimes in ways he didn’t understand himself until they emptied themselves into a dance and he thought: oh, I guess I felt all that.
He presses his chest into her back, pushing them down to the floor together. Just before her hands meet the floor, he wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her, placing her down in front of him. Eva takes a count to smile at him over her shoulder, and this is usually what gets Isak. No matter how disconnected he is from what he’s doing, connecting with his best friend allows him to feel the freedom that made him want to dance in the first place.
Just not today, apparently.
When the music ends, Isak wants to feel relief. It’s a high he’s chasing: the adrenaline rush that comes with feeling everything you’re meant to feel, and the peace that comes with accepting those feelings. Cathartic, that’s the word Yousef always uses. Dance is meant to be cathartic.
Instead, Isak feels tired, achy, and frustrated. Eva’s grimace suggests she feels the same. “That section’s not working,” she says. "I need to change it."
And Isak agrees, but, “I don’t think it’s the choreography.”
Eva’s kind enough not to say: yeah, it’s you. “No, it just feels off. Maybe it’s too jerky? Like, we can’t connect to it because we can’t breathe in it? What do you think?”
Isak thinks what he’s thought since their first duet. I am holding you back from being as fucking brilliant as you are. “Hey, you’re the choreographer,” Isak says, then grins. “I’m the talent. The charming smile, the twinkling eyes, the chiseled chest—”
“Oh my God. It was one YouTube comment, and I still think Julian wrote it.”
“Well if he did, he wrote it after we broke-up, which shows how hard I am to get over.”
Eva rolls her eyes, but she laughs, and Isak congratulates himself for being a decent friend even if he’s a shit partner. When Eva gets too serious, she gets insecure, and when she gets insecure, she’s mean to herself. And, the world throws so much bullshit at her. She deserves to have her own back in it, especially since she has everyone else’s.
When they were eleven, Isak confessed that he always hung around the skate park after school, without a skateboard, because he didn’t really like being at home. Eva told him that was ridiculous and insisted he hang out with her at her aunt’s dance studio instead. Though when Eva tells the story, she says she invited him and didn’t insist on anything.
Regardless, Isak didn’t need much convincing. He liked watching Eva dance: it was kind of incredible to see someone he’d known his entire life show off how fucking strong, creative, and honest she could be. It wasn’t long before Isak realized he wanted to try to be all of those things as well.
His dad was happy to pay for the classes: if Isak was out of sight, he was out of mind, and that was convenient since there never seemed to be much room for Isak in his dad’s mind. He was busy with work, busy caring for Isak’s mother, busy packing his bags to fuck off to another town.
But dance was where he could process all of that, what he could pour all of his feelings into before they completely overwhelmed him. Through everything, and Isak’s been through his fair share of things, he had dance, and he had Eva. That was usually enough.
He’s just not feeling it lately. And it’s not the first block he’s gone through, but what he assumed was an off day turned into an off week, then into an off month, and then what’s turning into an off year.
It’s not great timing.
“I’m stressing,” Eva says, and Isak drops his jaw as though to say: no, you? “This has to be perfect—and I know, I know, it can’t be perfect. Perfection is fake, boring, whatever Jonas says, but it still has to be really fucking good. I feel like I need to change everything.”
“Don’t,” Isak says. “See how that choreography looks on someone else first. Imagine Noora and Vilde doing it.”
Eva shakes her head. “If we can’t connect to it, they won’t.”
It’s harsh, but she’s not wrong. “Chris and Mutta, then.”
“They’re still learning how to partner.”
“Ok, then use this to teach them.”
Eva sighs. “Yeah, ok, but we’re running out of time.”
That’s not entirely true. Their dance company, Eight Count, is putting together a video submission for the Modern Movement festival in May. The festival’s mission is to showcase new choreographers and companies in Norway, and it’s their chance to be seen and hopefully receive some government funding. If they book it and all goes well, it could give them opportunities to perform for actual audiences, on actual stages, for actual money.
Oslo is not Los Angeles. The dance scene exists, but it’s small, and there are only as many opportunities as there are people to create them. When you get one, you can’t waste it.
So even though it’s only February now and the submission isn’t due until the end of March, Isak’s sympathetic to the stakes Eva’s facing. It’s her company, and she’s the only one of them trying to do this for a living. He’ll do what he can to make this happen for her, and sometimes that just means talking her down.
“We have time,” Isak says. “And we have fucking good dancers who will make this work. We’ve got this, yeah?”
“It just. It has to work, Isak. I’m not good at anything else.”
Before Isak can refute that point, they’re interrupted by the other company members entering the studio. Vilde, Noora, and Mahdi, Isak and Eva’s friends from dance class, are the first to arrive. They’re followed by Yousef, Mutta, and his girlfriend, Chris, freestylers Isak met through one of his classmates in university, Sana.
It’s a classic Step Up scenario of studio dancers working with street ones. Though the company’s style is a hip-hop/contemporary fusion, the blend hasn’t played out quite as smoothly as it does in the movies. Yousef’s slow to pick up choreography, Chris struggles with contemporary technique, and Mutta doesn’t know how to partner. Noora’s ballet training stops from her grounding herself , Vilde’s years on the competition circuit make it impossible for her to emote beyond a Vaseline-induced smile, and Mahdi’s tap background means he counts music differently than the other company members.
And Isak, well. Isak just can’t dance with the same commitment he did when he was seventeen, so it doesn’t matter that he memorizes choreography quickly, or that his technique is solid, or that he’s a reliable partner. Without that connection, he can’t be good.
He wants that back, but he’s not even sure how he lost it.
Fortunately for all of them, Eva is good, and she knows how to make them good as well. She understands each company member’s strengths and how they can help each other. Isak still remembers being skeptical when Eva suggested that Chris and Vilde improv together, then nearly crying when they ended their dance in each other’s arms, more vulnerable than he'd ever seen either of them.
Behind Mutta are three of his and Yousef’s friends: Mikael, Adam, and Elias, Sana’s brother. Mikael is holding a camera, and Elias is talking into it. “…And this is where it all happens. You’re witnessing Norway’s next big dance company—”
“First big dance company,” Adam interrupts.
“Anyway, these guys are going to be famous, and when you see them in a movie? You can say you were there from the beginning, back when they were posting desperate behind-the-scenes videos on YouTube. Mutta, what do you want to say to your fans?”
“To all 200 of my Instagram followers,” Mutta says. “Please, start liking my posts. Comment. Share my videos. I’m failing miserably.”
“That’s true, that’s true,” Elias says. “Yousef, what about you?”
Yousef shoots a glance towards Eva, who is not impressed. “I’m sorry,” he says. “They just kind of…follow me.”
“We have two hours of rehearsal time when we’re all free,” Eva says. “And can get the studio. Two.”
“Eva, we’ve got you,” Elias says. “This is how you a build following. If they connect to you as people, they’ll connect to you as dancers.”
“We’re not that interesting, though,” Mahdi says.
“Well, I haven’t done the big reveal yet,” Mutta says, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “I have news, and we’re going to get everyone’s reaction on camera.”
Adam gasps. Isak understands why Sana invites herself over to his place to study whenever Elias’s friends come around.
“Unless the news is that you magically freed everyone up to get three hours of rehearsal time, I’m not interested,” Eva says.
“What if I told you it’s about Even Bech Næsheim?”
Eva’s expression shifts to one Isak can only describe as interested. Isak's a little interested himself.
“He texted me,” Mutta begins, but Mikael cuts him off.
“Wait, no. He texted me and told me to tell ‘the guys.’ I don’t know if you’re even part of ‘the guys.’ You’re just always around.”
“Anyway,” Mutta continues. “He texted me and said he’s moving back home. For good.”
Isak suspects the dead silence is not the response Elias wanted for his vlog.
“He’s leaving L.A.?” Eva asks. “Really? Do you know why?”
“Something about how the scene’s not for him,” Mutta says with a shrug. “But I asked him if he’s still dancing, and he said he’ll always dance. So, I asked if he might be interested in dancing with us.”
“Oh God, that’s embarrassing,” Eva says. “He’s like, actually a professional dancer.”
So are you, Isak wants to say. She just wasn’t able to move to L.A. at nineteen like Even did.
Mutta hands her his phone. “Check out his replies to the videos I sent.”
“Hey,” Mikael says as Eva reads the texts, then taps the camera. “This is read-aloud time.”
Eva rolls her eyes, but obliges. “You guys are really good," she reads. "People don’t dance like that out here.” She looks up from Mutta’s phone. “Is that a good thing?”
“Keep going,” Mutta urges.
“I’d love to check out a rehearsal when I’m back. If that’s cool,” Eva reads. “And then you replied with the sunglasses emoji?"
“So he’d know exactly how cool it is,” Mutta says. “This is huge, right? Even has over 100,000 followers. If he joins our company, people will know who we are.”
“But he hasn’t posted in months,” Isak says.
Everyone stares at him, and he blushes. He only met Mutta and Yousef after Even had moved, but he’s been a fan since Even’s follower-count was only three-digits.
“He’s still a brilliant dancer,” Chris says into the camera. “Just so you don’t think we’re using you, Even.”
“Can you turn that off?” Eva says, then gestures to Mikael, Elias, and Adam. “And can you guys just…go away? So we can talk about this?”
“Alright, alright,” Mutta says. “You heard her: it’s official business time. Out.”
“Can’t believe this is the thanks we get,” Adam says. Yousef takes it upon himself to quietly usher them out.
“Well?” Mutta says once his friends are gone. “Come on. We should be excited about this.”
“We can’t just add a new person to the company,” Vilde says. “It throws off the chemistry.”
“And then we’d be nine,” Isak says. “Our pun wouldn’t work anymore.” If Isak’s insecure in his dancing now, dancing beside Even Bech Næsheim isn’t exactly going to boost his confidence.
“Mutta has a point, though? There are people who will watch anything he does,” Noora says, then glances at Isak. “If our goal is to be seen…?”
“That’s not our goal,” Eva says. “Our goal is to be good enough to earn opportunities ourselves.”
“It doesn’t matter how good we are if no one watches us,” Mutta says. “If you pirouette in a forest when no one’s around…?”
“And don't you think he’ll make us better?” Chris says. “He’s good. Sorry, but he’s probably better than any of us.”
“But he doesn’t know our style,” Yousef says, surprising Isak. Like Mutta and the rest of their crew, he was apparently friends with Even in high school. “Eva will have to change the choreography.”
“Eva already changes the choreography every day,” Chris says. “And he’ll learn the style. Look, all he wants to do is check out a rehearsal. We can’t let him do that?”
“No, we can,” Eva says. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Maybe he’ll show up and realize we’re too dramatic for him, anyway.”
“Not likely,” Mutta says. “But yeah, let’s just let him come and see what happens. Go with the flow. I don’t want to go back on the sunglasses emoji.”
“Nor does anyone want that for you,” Eva says. “Ok. That’s what we’ll do, then. Now, can we actually dance?”
It’s not a smooth rehearsal, but it rarely is given how little time the eight of them get to spend together. Vilde’s right, and Isak doesn't say that lightly: adding a new person into the mix they have to learn how to trust is going to fuck with the chemistry they’ve already worked for. And the tension around the decision, the anxiety, hangs over their rehearsal, stops them from fully committing to the movement and each other.
“You felt that, right?” Isak asks Eva when they’re kicked out of the studio by three-year-olds in tutus. “It was off? I think people are nervous about Even.”
“It’s been off for weeks,” Eva says, taking a swig of her water. “I don’t know. Maybe Even's energy could help us."
“We don’t know what kind of energy he’ll bring.”
“Well, we know he’ll bring Instagram followers.”
“You care about that?”
“I don’t want to?” Eva says. “But fuck, Isak. Mutta’s not wrong. I’m never going to make a career of this if no one sees my work.”
Isak can’t argue with that. If Even joining will help make Eva’s dream come true, of course he’ll get on board.
“Ok. I get it."
Eva furrows her eyebrows. “You know, I kind of thought you’d be thrilled about this. Unless—oh, Isak! You’re nervous about dancing with a cute boy!”
“Shut up.”
“He is quite handsome. Strong, too. And you know he has emotional depth if he dances like that.”
“I will walk out and never talk to you again.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
Isak flips her off, and Eva rolls her eyes. “Come on, Isak. What’s actually making you nervous? Let me do my best-friend-duty, please."
Since he first opened up to Eva at eleven, Isak’s never regretted it. “I’m not as good as him.”
“Oh, God. Should’ve have known it was your massive ego.”
“So, good talk—”
“No, Isak. You’re good. And I know you don’t feel like yourself lately or whatever, but you can be good again. It’ll take time, and some hard work, perhaps a hot boy to make you realize the dance was inside of you all along—”
“Ok, we’re ending this conversation now."
“You’ll get it back, though. I know you will.”
---
Like every Friday night, Isak’s scrolling through Instagram.
Eva’s posted two photos side-by-side: one is of her in the studio this morning, and the other is of her with her boyfriend, Jonas, in front of a party pizza. Its captioned: life’s all about balance. They invited Isak to join because he's become friends with Jonas too, but he’s tired of thirdwheeling. He can't be in every corner of Eva's life.
Vilde’s posted a series of selfies with inspirational quotes that make Isak rolls his eyes. Sana’s posted a picture of her and Yousef on the basketball court, which Isak comments on: Wow, no one would ever think you’re dating based on this picture. I don’t know how those rumours ever started.
Sana’s quick to reply: When was your last date, Isak?
Well, that was Julian. And that was…a year ago, now? He doesn’t think he misses Julian, but he definitely misses something.
Mutta posted a picture before rehearsal started of him outside the studio captioned: About to do THE REVEAL!!! @evenbechnaesheim
Isak clicks on Even’s username. The last video is from June. He’s seen it before, of course, but of course he’s going to press play again.
Watching Even dance reminds Isak of sacrifice, a concept his mom talks a lot about. The disciples gave up everything to follow Jesus, Isak. Isn’t that incredible?
Fucking terrifying, Isak always thought, and he feels a similar fear when he watches Even dance. Because fuck, he really surrenders everything to it; it’s like his body works before his mind does, like he’s trusting it to guide him wherever he needs to go.
It means that his lines aren’t perfect, he can look a bit chaotic, and sometimes he falls—but, if it isn’t the most fucking captivating thing Isak’s ever seen.
Isak can’t dance like that. At his best, he couldn't dance like that.
He doesn’t know he’ll dance with Even, if he’ll even get the opportunity. God, if he holds Eva back, imagine how much he’d hold Even back? That’s mostly what he feels as he scrolls through Even’s feed, anxiety creating a pit in his stomach.
But. There’s a little excitement there, too.