A/N: TW - Rape, incest
Noah
"Yeah, and they decided to do this as if we haven't been trying to get past so much as Regionals for years now! I know, I'm pretty pissed too. Alright, yeah, I have to get back to work as-well anyway. Okay, talk to you late, James." I hang-up and rest my face in my hands.
Fucking Michelle. She wasn't even here for a day and she already ruined everything that Emily and I spent the entirety of this year for. Why did either of us think that a-troupe would even consider choosing Nationals. Emily had barely finished asking them which one they'd rather go to when they all shouted DanceMania.
Guess that's it then. All the hours that I put into working on their Nationals routines were officially a waste of my fucking time. Heck, not even my time as Head Choreographer, but also as Dance Captain! The last year this studio even got past Regionals was when I was only 14. I'm in my twenties now! I was under so much stress trying to ensure that we wouldn't fail again, leading to many panic attacks. But, I did it all for them. They don't care though.
Ranting about it to James helped a bit. He was on the team that won both Regionals and Nationals last, so he knows how disappointing this place has become. He's been working on a music degree in New York for the last few years though, so I only ever really see him now in the Summer and Winter.
Most of what I actually see of him now is from Instagram, where he posts pictures of him with whatever girlfriend he has decided to fuck for the month...
~~~
Heath
The rancid, burning smell of wine and vodka hit's my nose almost as soon as I step into the apartment. Looks like I know how mom spent her day off.
I try to be quiet as I head to my room. She always falls asleep after she binge-drinks like this, and I'd rather just go to bed without seeing her. Of-course, it's just my luck that she decided to crash on my own bed this time.
Deciding to just leave her, I turn to leave the room.
"Heath, honey. Is that you?" Her gruff, raspy voice hits me like a drum. I clench my fists and face her.
"Hi mom. Yeah, just got back from dance. Thought I'd let you sleep." Was hoping you'd stay asleep is what I mean.
"Uh, no, it's fine. Stay here. Feel like I haven't seen you properly in day." My grip on the door handle tightens. She may be saying it nicely. Like a mother just wanting to talk to her son.
But, I know what she really wants.
"I'm not doing that again." I don't look at her as I say this. It's easier to.
I can her her grumble and scoff while she pulls herself up. There's probably that look on her face. The one I've become way too used to this past year.
"Why not?" She sounds like she is going to cry. Good. Let her. I'm not falling for her manipulative ways this time.
"Because it's seriously fucked up, mom!" At this, I can't help but turn around to glare at her.
She's sat there, as always, the weight of everything dragging her down. The usual trails of dried-up tears are prevalent on her face, even more now with the make-up she still has on.
"I thought you loved me." She whimpers.
"I..." I'm not sure if I can say what she wants. After everything that has happened. After everything she has done for me. Does even a tiny part of me love this disgusting woman sat in-front of me anymore?
All I do is just stare down at her.
"You can't do this." She cries. "He already left us, left me! You promised you wouldn't do that too. I just...I need something make me feel the slightest bit better. To make me feel even the smallest bit of love."
All of this has been said to me multiple times already. I should be used to it. Should just ignore it, run out that door, and never come back. But...even with all she has done, I can't.
Maybe it's because she brought up him, and that always makes me break a bit inside. I let go of the door, and start what she wants.
"Fine." I give in.
The bile rises quickly in my throat, and I'm close to throwing up by the time I only have so much as my stomach exposed. As I throw my clothes to the side, I look at the wall. Just as always.
Never at her. Not even when I slowly slide under the blankets next to her, feeling the horrific feeling of her naked body pressed into mine.
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To Catch Your Fall | Heathoah
أدب الهواةNothing ever seemed to go right in Noah's life. Even including getting the job of his dreams. Becoming Head Choreographer of The Next Step was supposed to mean big things for his career. Instead, he feels as if he's a therapist for anyone in drama t...
