A/N

(Y/N) is your name
(L/N) is your last name
(H/C) means hair color            
(M/N) is the mean girl 

Cole
Your POV

My foot ached as I stood in the studio after hours. All the girls had left, leaving me here to practice. I;m the Captain of this dance team, most say I'm the best dancer in Ninjago but I'm not boastful so I live to argue. The under-captain's name is M/N, she's a jerk. She's leading this one dance, it's fast motion and lots of acro. I can do acro and fast dances, but I'm more of a contemporary or lyrical dancer.

She threatened to take me out of the dance if I can't successfully complete an aerial turn. The problem is I'm not used to the hardcore motions and they're killing my foot, which I've broken when I was younger. But M/N doesn't seem to care.

I heard a slight crack in my foot, the bone feeling out of place. I dropped to my knees, holding the foot in my hands. The door opened behind me and I turned my head, seeing a boy with shaggy black hair and dark brown eyes. I sighed and stood up, facing him, standing on one foot. "Studio's closed." I told him, folding my arms across my chest.

"You're here, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk on his lips. I rolled my eyes and looked into his eyes, "That's different. I actually dance here."

"Yeah, well I'm scoping out the competition. Are you any?" he questioned.

"Right now? No, my foot feels dead. But on the dance floor, watch your back, Brookstone."

"So you found me out. My dad any good to you?"

"Mr. Brookstone? Hm, he sounds better than anyone in this company. Yeah, he's good, well, incredible."

The boy chuckled and stuck out his arm, "I'm Cole."

I took his hand and shook it, "I'm Y/N, maybe you've heard of me."

"It's hard not to, you're kind of a celebrity, L/N. Actually, it's why I'm here. My dad wanted to recruit you, as a solo dancer. He has an eye for the best, he sent me down here to prove his thoughts."

"Tell him thanks but no thanks. I have a company here and I'm doing pretty well."

"I'd say that is a big fat lie, Y/N. Most dancers have a type, some style. And by the looks of you, I'm going to guess contemporary and lyrical, not hip-hop, like you just broke your foot practicing." he pointed out.

"Geez, observant much?" I asked, a chuckle escaping my mouth. He laughed and nodded, "I'll talk to my dad, but keep it in my mind."

"I will, don't worry."