Chapter 4: Rehearsals and Conversations

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Jade's POV

A few days had passed since Nick and I grabbed coffee, but the memory of it still lingered. It had been so easy with him—no pretensions, no over-the-top flirtation, just simple, genuine conversation. I found myself thinking about it more than I should have, especially as the weight of my upcoming performance loomed over me.

It was early evening when my phone buzzed, the soft vibration breaking the silence in my living room. I glanced at the screen, a smile tugging at my lips when I saw Nick's name flash across the display.

"Hey," I said as I answered, settling back on the couch. "What's up?"

"Just checking in," his familiar British accent made my heart skip a beat. "Figured you're buried under rehearsals by now."

I laughed softly, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not wrong. We've been at it pretty much non-stop."

He chuckled. "I had a feeling. So, what's going on this week? More of the same?"

I hesitated for a moment before filling him in. "Yeah, it's going to be pretty intense. I've got this big televised performance coming up in about three weeks, so we'll be rehearsing pretty much every day until then."

"Televised performance? That sounds massive." He sounded genuinely interested, and I couldn't help but smile at his curiosity.

"It is," I admitted. "But it's a lot of pressure, too. I've been trying to get the choreography perfect, and we've been tweaking the arrangement. It's... well, it's a lot."

Nick's voice softened. "I'm sure you'll nail it. You always seem to pull off things that look impossible to everyone else."

I could hear the sincerity in his tone, and it made something warm unfurl in my chest. "Thanks. I hope you're right."

There was a brief pause before Nick asked, "Any chance I'll be able to see it?"

The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to answer. "You really want to watch me perform on TV?"

"I want to watch you do what you're amazing at," he said, his voice light but sincere. "It's different seeing it on-screen after hearing about all the hard work behind the scenes."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Impossible or charming?" he quipped, and I could practically hear the grin in his voice.

"Maybe both," I replied, grinning to myself. "But yeah, if you want to tune in, you're more than welcome. I could use the support."

"I'll mark my calendar," he promised. "But don't work yourself to death before then. Take it easy sometimes, yeah?"

"I'll try," I said, though we both knew it was a lie. There was no 'taking it easy' when it came to performances like this one.

After a little more light banter, we hung up, and I leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. The conversation left me feeling lighter, like I wasn't alone in the whirlwind of preparations. And somehow, knowing Nick was rooting for me made the pressure seem a little less suffocating.

The next few days flew by in a blur of rehearsals and meetings. My schedule was packed, but I tried to find moments to relax whenever I could. That meant squeezing in phone calls with Nick here and there, which became a welcome distraction from the chaos of rehearsals.

It was during one of those rare quiet moments—early morning, coffee in hand, the city just starting to wake up—when my phone buzzed again.

Nick:

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