After Michael passed out, I went back to pestering Juliana until she finally gave in and agreed to dance.
To gauge her sense of rhythm, I insisted she show me her moves first.
Honestly, I was kinda looking forward to it, waiting to be blown away by some hidden talent and expecting her to surprise me yet again by subverting my expectations like it was the norm for her.
...She didn't.
She danced… and it was horrendous.
Actually, horrendous didn't even come close. It was far, far worse.
I sincerely regret that my vocabulary isn't expansive enough to accurately describe the atrocity that was on display that tragic night, mostly because even atrocity feels like a massive understatement.
Juliana wasn't dancing. She was… well, I don't even know what she was doing. She was moving with either mechanical stiffness or unnatural smoothness, nothing in between!
One second her body was jerking like she was having a seizure, and the next she was swaying her hips as if trying to hula loop.
