Dominic

It was the worst day in your five years of working together.

When you and Dominic opened the doors to the dance hall, instead of twelve promising students, a group of teenagers, forced into the room, were waiting for you. They stood by the stands with phones and energy drinks, displaying complete indifference and mockery.

The lesson turned into a battlefield. The teams were drowned out by the hubbub, and Dominic, usually patient, began to lose his temper when the students ignored the cheerleading technique for the hundredth time. In response to your comment about the rhythm, one of the girls icily replied that they didn't want to be there. Dominic tried to get through to them, but the teenagers listened with stony faces.

By the end of the class, you felt humiliated. You, choreographers with world-class experience, looked bad. Dominic stopped the music and dismissed the group. The students left slowly and lazily.

One of the guys—tall, with a provocative fringe—stopped in front of you and casually declared that an hour had been pointless and that you were the worst coaches he'd ever had because you'd simply "rubbed their noses in the moves" without trying to inspire them. The words hit hard. Dominic barely contained his anger, and the entire group followed him as he left, accompanied by laughter.

Left alone in the deafening silence, you felt your confidence crumble. Dominic cupped your face in his hands. There was pain in his eyes, but also a glimmer of defiance.

When you admitted you'd failed, he gave a bitter smile. Dominic decided that if teenagers wanted "the worst coaches," they would become them tomorrow. He suggested they give up trying to be liked and become the toughest, most demanding mentors. In his opinion, if they hadn't been taught to feel, now they would be squeezed "sweat, tears, and blood." He was sure they would hate you, but they would remember the lesson and understand that the worst coaches are those who give up.

Pressing your head against his shoulder, you felt stubbornness boiling inside you. You'd lost this fight, but the war was just beginning. You'd prove them right, even if it meant becoming what they deserved.