(Here you go.)
As he'd anticipated, the dancing studios of his new school were extremely plain. They were simple, plain gray rooms, full of mirrors forcing you to look at yourself. Full of emptiness. The floors seemed to shake with every movement, no matter how gentle or quick. It made him feel as though the floor was going to cave in and take him with it. That's why he hated second-floor dance studios. He stepped into the dance studio, trying his hardest not to make the floor shake at all. The silence in the room seemed like it could've drowned him, a feeling just as pleasant as it was not.
He saw how much time there actually was before the beginning of classes, so he decided to take a moment to wander. Of course, seeing what a music-loving soul he was, he found his way downstairs to the music department. He took notice of multiple students in practice rooms, some together messing around, others alone and just playing. He appreciated those who played, for he believed that it truly sounded beautiful. He stood around near a practice room where he heard someone playing guitar, though of course, he wasn't going to poke his face in front of the window to figure out who.
Instead, he just listened, swaying along a little, thinking about how he'd dance to such a tune. It was something he was particularly fond of doing, though he refused to let anyone know that.
(Sorry it's a bit longer than what you asked for. I hope this is a sufficient sample though)