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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"Hey," I whisper as she appears slowly from behind the curtain and into the wing of backstage.
She's late, for some reason. Maybe it's just because of all the shit that she's had to put up with today, or maybe she just doesn't care about regionals anymore.
Either way, it's not my place to ask. She seems okay, she's walking slowly but I think that's just because she doesn't want to draw the attention of Stephanie and Tiffany, who are stood close to the stage whispering childishly to each other, they're probably bitching about her like the dicks they are.
"Hi," Emily replies, her voice flat as she stands next to me, holding the weight of her problems against her chest by folding her arms and ignoring my gaze, instead staring ahead at Riley and Giselle, who are eager to get on stage for the regionals finale.
She seems deflated, her usually perfect posture slightly lessened as she sighs roughly under her breath.
I can't help but stare at the sleek and translucent lines that cover her cheeks, she looks like she's been crying again.
It's such an odd thing to see her in this state. She doesn't quite act like her entire world has fallen apart, but at the same time she shows me just how broken she really is just by the way she's allowed the tears to dry on her cheeks without trying to hide them.
"Stop looking at me," she whispers flatly, her eyes still focused on the stage as though she's internally preparing herself for the competition.
Maybe she just doesn't want to talk about what's really going on, or maybe she genuinely is just trying to focus on the dance.
I'm not really good at this whole being comforting thing, I guess I'm just a little emotionally uninvolved.
"I'm not looking at you," I whisper back, my tone fuelled by sarcasm as I feel my lips curl upwards into a slight grimace.
I don't really know why this encounter is so funny to me, there has been no humour between us, no joking, yet the overwhelming awkwardness between our tense relationship somehow still seems to overpower everything else.
"You don't have to keep watching me, you know?" Her words are controlled by her own self doubt as she turns her head to meet my watchful eyes. "I'm not some fragile little girl, James. I can take care of myself."
Shit. Maybe she thinks I'm trying to protect her from Eldon? That's not what I'm trying to do here at all, I know she doesn't need my help on that front. She would probably do a better job of protecting me than I could ever protect her.
She doesn't need someone to fight her battles for her, she's way too fiery for that.
What she does need though are people that care about her. And I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if I was one of those people.
