When new girl Michelle joins A-troupe, everything changes. What'll happen now that Emily's throne is up for grabs? With love comes scandal, sex and secrecy, and with these dancers, there's always a price to pay.
The Next Step TV show reimagined as...
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I feel my shoulders move up and down, my breath heavy as I screw my eyes shut, hoping that the darkness will clarify that I'm overreacting.
You're fine, Riley, you're okay.
I need to do this, I simply can't avoid it any longer.
I've been arguing with my sister for months now, enough is enough. If I'm going to lie to Michelle and tell her that Emily and I made up, I may as well at least attempt to do so.
We haven't spoken properly at all since she came back to the studio today, the only words that dared leave her mouth were 'get in the car Riley.'
I have to accept the fact that maybe she just doesn't want to move passed this, but I just hope her small gesture this morning has made her see that she does miss me.
I'd be grateful if she's missed me even half as much as I do her, it's all I've been able to think about lately.
I've been a bad friend to everyone, I've allowed my anxiety surrounding my situation with my sister to build up to a breaking point. That stops now though, I can not allow myself to continue down this self destructive path that my mind is so intent on taking me on.
Daniel sprained his ankle and I couldn't even find it in me to comfort his clearly frightened boyfriend, my mind was elsewhere, begging for a reason to allow Emily to see how much I've screwed up.
I never should've lost my temper at her, she doesn't deserve that. She has a tough exterior, but I shouldn't cast my anger out on her, her mind is messed up enough as it is with her repression of the entire death of my dad.
My shaky fingers crawl to the wood of her darkened doorway, roughened by the misshapen scratches that were made before we even bought the house. My mother couldn't afford to buy other doors, but we didn't complain, it wasn't a problem for us.
She did what she could, she still does what she can, and I'm entirely grateful to her for everything.
I should've listened to her more, I shouldn't have pushed Emily this far. She doesn't deserve it, she's broken enough as it is.
My hand curls into a fist, the beds of my nails pushing down as the tips grate against my nervous flesh. I tap against the door lightly, my body focusing on the sound of the knocks to ensure that I don't break down.
"What is it, mom?" I hear Emily call from inside of her bedroom, a lump in my throat instantly forming as I begin to suffocate on my nerves.
Can I do this?
Yes, Riley. You have to do this.
I move my fingers to the handle, grasping it harshly as I open the door slowly, my head peaking around to see Emily lounged over the purple bed sheets that coat her mattress, her legs crossed at the calf's as she paints her fingernails the same shade of red that she always does.
