Hello Happy

[Amoretta Macksimov]

Amoretta Macksimov was not always used to the chill that came with winter in Europe. She had grown up in Russia and attended Beuxbatons, but over breaks she often traveled. Jamaica, the Caribbean, Brazil - warm countries were her forte. One day the blonde was sure she'd move to a country like that, somewhere sunny and fun, where she could get a decent tan and dance to the music all night long without worry of the temperatures. In fact the blonde had only just returned from Mexico, leaving her sister in South Korea for that weekend, before picking her up from her hotel. Amoretta was torn on facilitating the relationship - she knew their parents would never approve of the boy. She'd be heartbroken when they made sure she wasn't allowed to see him again. Amoretta knew that all too well. But Mini was going to have to learn from her own mistakes.

Apparating to the dance studio where she would pick up her youngest sister, Amella, Amoretta hugged herself until she entered. Shivering she wished she'd gotten redressed after dance practice instead of leaving her clothing in her duffle bag. The building itself was warm at least, and Ret moved through to the room where her sister would be ending practice. Watching the girl dance ballroom was always lovely - Amoretta didn't have the patience for those counts, she needed the speed that came with her style of dance. Glancing around she caught sight of the instructor and gave him a wave, knowing she'd have to present the signed note stating she was picking up the young girl up, signed by their mother. After all, she'd never showed her face in the studio before - it might have seemed suss.

 

[Felix Chevotet]

"Blaire, I don't know what that is, but it's not what we're doing." Felix stared at the young girl as she seemed to be doing her own thing. She was the worst out of the lot of them and he wasn't even sure why she was in the advanced class. Her mother had insisted though. "Amella, do you mind terribly?" He asked, gesturing to the front of the room so that he could help Blaire. He knew Amella had it down because she'd clearly been dancing for years, and she was a Macksimov, that kind of made her special. He watched as Amella picked a partner and headed to the front of the class. Most of the time the others got jealous, Felix clearly had favourites and Amella was one of them, but it was hardly his fault, she probably worked the hardest out of all the girls, maybe if they all showed that kind of dedication, they'd be just as good. It was almost a shame that Amella had to share a class with half of this group. "Okay Blaire that's better, keep doing that and stay back an hour to practice." The little girl started to protest but Felix frowned. "You and I both know you shouldn't even be here. You can't dance and you refuse to let anyone help you. If you want any chance of making it to the recital, you'll listen to what I say, is that clear?" She nodded and did as he asked. Felix hated being forceful with the students but Blaire was especially bad. He returned to the front of the class to finish the hour off.

As the time came to an end, Felix gestured for Blaire to move to the back of the room and continue her warm ups. Her mother wouldn't be here for another couple of hours anyway and Felix always ended up having to babysit the poor girl. He could tell she hated dancing and honestly wondered why her mother bothered. She was never going to be able to make a career of it, she was far too stiff and this was just ballroom. Some of the parents headed in and Felix had a couple of words with some of them with the updates in the progress of their children, mainly generic stuff about ratios and movement, most of them didn't understand half of what he was saying anyway and just nodded along. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he found himself pleasantly surprised when greeted with a face not unfamiliar. The blonde looked much like a bigger version of Amella and she was waving at him. Felix nodded and gestured to Amella. "Is that your sister? Is she here to collect you today?" He certainly wasn't expecting her. He was used to the Macksimov matriarch showing up and trying to tell him how to do his job as well. It never ceased to amaze him just how overbearing dancers could be.​

 

[Amoretta Macksimov]

Amoretta listened to the dance coach, no harsher than any coach had ever been to her, if not she'd had worse. The blonde flicked blonde strands backwards and smiled when he finally noticed her. Her sister seemed to lean over to tell him that she was her older sister. It was most likely obvious, Amella was the only Veela in her class, and though Amoretta did not share her sisters cliche blue eyes, she was blonde and rather charming when she was actually speaking properly. She stood up a little straighter, her mother's voice in the back of her mind telling her her posture was not that of a Lady. Pull a string and open your ribs, the matriarch would say. Amoretta finally approached, feeling as if it was an appropriate time to do so. She smiled at her sister, speaking to her in Russian. "Go get changed out, I'm treating for lunch." She said with a smile, obviously much more comfortable in her native tongue. Most of her dance team were fluent in Russian, and her coach was as well - she was lazy when it came to her English, but it was by choice not by lack of knowledge. Turning to face the man now standing at her height of 5'5" she realized he was much taller than she, her sister being nearly her height. Amoretta cursed having her mother's height sometimes, but she supposed it hadn't effected her dancing career at all - so the blonde didn't think on it to hard.

"I am Amoretta." She said with a smile, extending her hand to the man. "I am Amella's older sister. You seem like you are a good dance instructor." She remarked, awwkard at the very least in the way she spoke, her accent heavy. Her brown orbs grazed over the mans features, he was handsome as well - but Amoretta hadn't been interested in dating in quite some time. She instead took time to admire and then push away the thoughts. Dance was her life - no room for boys.

 

[Felix Chevotet]

Felix always managed to get himself into trouble where Blair's mother was involved and just like with the end of every other session, he saw the blonde menace only seconds before hearing her shrill voice berating him in French. Felix held his hand up to Amoretta to let her know he would only be a second before turning to the she-devil and telling her in no uncertain terms that he daughter was a talentless piece of wood who was much better suited at being dead log than a dancer. "Let her do something she actually wants to do, she clearly doesn't want to do this." He said gesturing to the girl as she stood in a corner, the despondent look on her face saying a million things at once. Felix couldn't deal with stage parents. He shook his head as the mother stood there speechless and ignored the barrage of questions as she walked over to Blair. Felix just maintained his distance and looked over at Amoretta before finally being able to introduce himself.

"I am sorry about that. Blair hates being here, her mother is... adamant." he said, shaking his head. "It's an honour to have another Macksimov in my study. Your sister Amella is miles ahead of the class. I expect her to need to find a new class by the end of the semester." Truthfully, Felix would have loved to take her into private one on one tutoring. She was a talent he would hate to lose. He knew that if Amella was so good, then Amoretta had to be twice as good.​

 

[Amoretta Macksimov]

Amoretta glanced over at the girl and she wondered if this was what Aminia was like at dance. She knew however that that wasn't true. Mini was very good at hiding her disdain for dance. Amoretta only wished she enjoyed it - or that her mother wouldn't continue to push her to it. Having learned the hard way though, Ret knew it wasn't that simple when it came to their mother. The Veela adjusted her purse straps, and shifted uncomfortably as the woman before her shouted st the instructor in French. Yelling always made her uncomfortable, which was why she made sure that she always did as she was told now. No one yelled at her anymore unless it was over the beat of the music that was in the studio. "No I understand." Amoretta responded, trying to shake the feeling of ill ease in her stomach from the displays the mother showed to them.

"Oh... no please don't flatter me like that!" She said, face becoming a rose color quickly as she laughed off the compliments. Amoretta knew that she was a good dancer but it didn't mean she needed to hear the compliments. Or even wanted them. She felt flattered though that and instructor would think so highly of her. "I do not think she is ready to move to a new class. Socially this is her favorite class and she is comfortable here. Mother might push her out of her comfort zone though." She responded with a smile before the realization hit her. "I am sorry, I still do not know your name?" She asked as politely as she could, hoping he didn't think her rude. What if he had said it and she had not been listening?

 

[Felix Chevotet]

Felix was relieved that Amoretta didn't seem to think he was some brute. Truly, Blair tried hard, but she simply didn't have, nor did she want, the talent most of the others girls in this class possessed. Her mother was a force to be reckoned with however and he hoped that she would take a hint and enrol Blair in painting, or perhaps in photography, which is what she seemed to really have a passion for. He smiled when she told him not to flatter her, it was hard not to do so, the Macksimov name carried a lot of weight and it was not by accident that Amella was so good. He had not met the other sister, he was aware that there were three, but he was almost positive she was just as good as her sisters, if not better. "I'm sorry if i've embarrassed you, I've been an instructor since I was sixteen, I know talent when I see it. I guess I'm used to calling it too." He laughed slightly. He had not ever seen Amoretta dance to his knowledge, but the way she held herself, walked, he could see the years of practice there.

"You might be right, but I would not be surprised if she surpassed even myself very soon. I am not the talent like someone such as Fred Astaire or Mikhail Baryshnikov, but I do alright." He had to know how to dance in order to teach it, but as they said, those that can, do, those that can't, teach. He was obviously the latter. When she mentioned that she didn't know his name, Felix laughed and smacked himself in the forehead. "Ah, yes, please forgive me. My name is Felix, Felix Chevotet."
​