⎼⎼⎼ 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ➵ 𝑏.𝑓.

053

mikki

"it's the last week," mom smiled, stroking my hair, "excited?"

i nodded.

but it was kind of the first week at the same time. it was the beginning of all the opportunities. when the episodes went out, we'd be famous. so many doors would open. they'd be booking jobs and joining dance programs and there would be so much that they unlocked.

i turned around and flung my arms around her.

"hey!" she laughed, "it's alright."

⤎⎼༌·⋱🩰⋰⋆༌⎼⤏

brady

mikki and i ran over our duet again. and again. and again. each time we found something wrong with it, which we quickly corrected and kept going. 

"no!" she snapped, "again."

"mikki-" i sighed, "let's take a break."

"this is nationals!"

"it's also," i reminded, "our last week."

she stopped and looked at me for a little while, then gave a tiny, sad smile. "yeah. it is."

"so let's have fun. let's take a break. enjoy new york."

"ok."

⤎⎼༌·⋱🩰⋰⋆༌⎼⤏

mikki and i stayed outside of the dressing room and in the wings. it was nationals, and studio 19 was there, so there was bound to be some drama. she couldn't deal with it, and i didn't want to. we found a spot on some drama blocks behind a curtain, where we sat and watched the younger age group do their routines.

we didn't need to talk.

we just sat.

and existed.

"mikki," i whispered, "i'm going to miss you so bad."

"i'm going to miss you more."

⤎⎼༌·⋱🩰⋰⋆༌⎼⤏

it was time to go on stage. mikki shook out in the wings and took deep breaths.

"break a leg," i murmured in her ear, "we're going to do so well."

"yes," she breathed, her voice translucent with nerves, but strong, "we are."

the duet was so awesome. we flowed together like waves, one movement after another. reaching for each other, running away, turning, leaping, falling. this was why i danced. to feel so connected with yourself and the people you're on stage with. there was no one else i would do this dance with.

we pulled each other into a hug as soon as we went off the stage, laughing and screaming and close to tears, brimming with emotion.

"we did it!"

"we did."

⤎⎼༌·⋱🩰⋰⋆༌⎼⤏

mikki

"number 29, mikaela with 'cursed'!"

i felt so aware of my body. every part of me was on fire. i was dancing like i had wings. dancing like there was no tomorrow. spilling every part of me out on the stage. my tears about my dad, the love my mother gave, the mistakes i made, the competitions i didn't win, the friendships i made along the way. i danced for pressley, hannah, gia, sarah, paris, savannah, ellie, lilly, connor, brady.

the music ended and i was alone on the stage, aware of the silence. aware that there was no applause. the judges eyes were focused on me. no one was clapping. i stood up and looked out at the audience.

i was crying.

that's when the clapping began. it was like a thunderstorm, pounding my ears, screaming and deafening. the lights flashed once more and i walked off the stage.

arms were on me, hugging me. i was with my team.

i felt like my dance was complete perfection.

⤎⎼༌·⋱🩰⋰⋆༌⎼⤏

a quick change of costume and i was out on the stage again. this time, everyone was with me. we were together. we were there and we would smash new york into a million pieces. the old elite teams may have brought abby's name up, but we would be the ones who brought it back, and better than ever.

i think there was a certain bond between us. the pain, the love, the joy, the tears. it just strengthened the rope that linked us all together.

we stood there, applause rolling from the entire crowd, smiling and holding each other's hands. no other dance team in the whole country had anything on us.

and i learnt something on that stage.

no matter how far i lived from them, i would always find them.

i guess that was true.

because the next moment, the stage lights came crashing down, and we were buried under a pile of rubble.