↳30. ....BOOM!

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Valentina doesn't remember the last time she worked out

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Valentina doesn't remember the last time she worked out. She isn't one to visit the gym daily so she can work on her cardio or some shit like that. She's been told by her past mentors that she should work out more often. It'll help build your stamina, they explained. She instead opted to do yoga and occasionally Pilates, finding it be better for her balance and form.

Now she regrets not hitting the gym because here she is, running down the pavement, wheezing.

Granted, the Metropolitan Opera House is not that far from Rockefeller Plaza. If you were to take a cab, you would be there in seven minutes at the latest, nine minutes tops. However, automobile transportation is a luxury she couldn't afford as she left everything in her dressing room. That also takes public transport out of the picture as well, her metro card is somewhere deep within the bowels of her dance bag.

The only option available to her is walking and God gave her legs for a reason.

It is a dark and bitter night in the city. Bulidings are glowing, the air is crisp, and the people populated the streets. Valentina can feel parts of her body freezing, some even becoming numb to the cold. Her feet screaming in pain of being pinched within the rigid pointe shoes. But she doesn't stop to take a break or to catch her breath; she pushes all of that aside, her mind worrying for the well-being of someone she still loves.

Hurrying, she accidentally bumps into others by mistake and shouts apologies to them as she zips down the sidewalk. In the distance, she can see the skyscraper. At last! she thought. Pushing against the spinning doors, she enters the place and immediately heads for the elevator. Though she wouldn't make it past the lobby.

"Excuse me! You're too late, the show has already begun taping," the man tells her, "You're gonna have to leave."

She takes a few deep breaths before speaking, "I need to get up there. It's important."

The employee takes one look at her and knew that she is fucking crazy. For Christ's sake, she is wearing a white feathery costume and sharp, fantasy-like makeup. Uneasy of her presence, the man discretely scoots over to the right side of his desk, his hand at the ready to press the button that is located underneath the tabletop surface.

"Ma'am, there is no way I can allow you to do that. You missed the audience call time and now I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Panting, Valentina begs, "No, please, I'm begging you. I need to see Pete Davidson. He knows who I am, my name is Valentina Pérez and I'm a close friend of his."

Seeing that this is getting her nowhere, she bolts for the elevator and the man called for security to remove her from the building. The lobby is quickly filled with tall, beefy men blocking her way to the man she claims to know. They grip her forearms and drag her out of the hallway.

"Let me go! I need to see him!" she cries. Kicking the air, she attempts to escape from their grasp. She kept wriggling but it was doing her no good. She screams obscenities, switching between her two dominant languages, demanding that she be let go.

A ding is heard from the hallway and out steps the Staten Islander, "Val?" He rubs his eyes and squints. She's actually here, he thought. He repeats her name again, this time yelling it out.

She whips her head and cries out,"Pete!"

He shouts at the guards for treating her so roughly and told them to get lost. She pulls away from the strong men and runs towards him. She throws her hands around him and hugs him tightly. She breathes in deeply his scent. Mint, cologne, and a hint of weed flooded her sensory receptors. She missed the way he smelled.

Her eyes widen as she scanned him, "Oh my god, Peter.... you're so thin. Hasn't she been feeding you?" She cups the side of his face with her hand.

"I-I-I," he stammers. Of course she wouldn't be keeping up with what was going on between him and his ex-fiancée. He didn't want to get into it, not now. She doesn't need to worry or be perturbed by the shit people are saying about him on social media. He can see worry in her face, the sadness as well, but also the change in color; he knows her well enough that he could tell she was wearing heavier stage makeup than usual, mostly around her under eyes. She also looks thin, not too thin, and still gorgeous as ever.

"What are you wearing?"

She lightly chuckles, "It's my Swan Queen costume."

Pete lights up at the news, "Wait a minute, you're Odile? Fuck Val! That's amazing! This is what you always want---"

"Mr. Davidson, your fiancée is here to see you. She's very concerned," the man who almost threw Valentina out informs, cutting him off. The Arizonan gave a look that could kill to the security guard, making it known that she does not like him.

"That's ex-fiancée," he says brusquely, "And tell her that I don't need to see her."

The ballerina's head whips back to Pete; her eyes soften and she sadly smiles at him. He grabs ahold of Valentina's small hands and gives her a squeeze. A glimpse of hope flickered in their eyes. She sighs in relief knowing that he's going to be safe as long as they're together.

The elevator dings again and Lorne exits the lift.

"Pete, I think it would be wise that you introduce the musical act," He advises the young comedian, "Ms. Pérez, lovely seeing you again."

The ballerina gives him a weak smile, she's always been a bit intimated by the television producer. She thinks it has to do with his relationship with Pete, almost father-like; when they first met, she was a hysterical and blubbering mess. She was embarrassed of herself for her first impression but Lorne, bless him, didn't say anything.

"Can I take her with me?" Pete innocently asks.

"Of course."

Still holding onto each other, they step into the elevator.

Valentina hid in the wings as Pete went on camera. She quickly sends a couple messages on her phone before she is told to put it away. A few cast members noticed her and wondered what she was doing here, dressed like that. She simply plays dumb, avoiding the questions that are being thrown at her.

Music plays from the main stage and Pete finds his way back to her. Their hands found each other again, interlacing their fingers together. Silently, they exit Studio 8H and found a few familiar faces waiting for them at the revolving doors.

John, Anna, Mateo, and Colson all stand there chatting with each other. Their panicking and clamoring dissipating upon seeing the two. Valentina assures them that nothing terrible happened and everything's okay. They all agreed that even though it is late, they needed to get Pete home. The six of them hail a cab and are able to catch a ferry ride to Staten Island.

The comedian held the dancer's hair as she vomited into the trash can. The movement of the boat causing her to become a victim of seasickness and Pete grins ever so slightly.  Now that she's here beside him, he feels better. He could see how life can move on from the darkness.

He feels alive when he's with her.

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i don't really want to write a whole A/N just bc this chapter was emotionally heavy and difficult for me to write. but pls know that if you ever need to talk, i'm here to listen.

- deb ✨

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