ESTELLE'S POV
I was gasping for breath after finishing a dance cover with Cheska in her dance room for her to post in her YouTube account, the energy still buzzing in the air.
We took a moment to drink some water, and between laughs, I couldn’t help but admire her.
She was so independent for her age—running her own dance company, making business plans, and collaborating with dancers from all over the world.
It was awe-inspiring, and honestly, a little jealousy crept in.
Here I was, someone who loved to dance but couldn’t create the kind of choreography that would wow the world like she could.
Sure, I could sing, but I was too shy to share that talent.
I had leadership skills, but I often felt like I wasn’t taken seriously unless I got angry—something that happened more often than I’d like to admit.
As we joked around, I pushed those thoughts aside, enjoying the moment.
Cheska sighed, "I gotta pay my cousin for this water, I have a lot of debt, aaahhhh"
"Haha! What's your cousin's name?"
"Oh, I meant Anne"
I did a double-take, shocked. “Wait, what? You’re cousins?” I exclaimed.
She shrugged, "Yeah, but we weren't very close when we were kids, because like... We are kinda different and our aunts always make her feel isolated and when us as cousins hang, they always push her to the side, saying we shouldn't hang out with her"
Which surprised me even more. It felt like I was learning new layers about them, and it made me wonder what else I didn’t know.
Despite my insecurities, being with Cheska was always uplifting. Her drive and passion were contagious, and I knew that, in my own way, I could find my path too.
I checked my phone, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw an article on Facebook.
It was about Justin—the headline blared that he had just become the champion at an international Science Fair, competing against genius students from all over the world.
I couldn’t believe it at first; I was shocked yet not entirely surprised. Justin always seemed to be at the top of his game, effortlessly shining in everything he does.
I glanced over at Cheska, who had also pulled out her phone, and we exchanged wide-eyed looks. “Did you see this?” I asked, excitement bubbling in my voice. “Justin actually won!”
Cheska nodded, a grin spreading across her face. “Of course he did! He’s always been brilliant. I mean, he’s practically a walking science textbook and a living calculator"
It was true—Justin had a knack for making the complex seem simple.
I received a message from my mom, Vanessa, and my heart sank a little as I read, “Where have you been?”
I quickly gathered my things and bid farewell to Cheska.
“Mom's calling me,” I said, and Cheska smiled, “Bye! Tell Aunt Vanessa I said hi!” I nodded and headed back, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety about facing my mother.
In the blink of an eye, I returned to our mansion, the familiar grandeur greeting me.
But as soon as I stepped inside, I was met with my mom’s sharp gaze. “Where have you been?” she scolded, her arms crossed.
I took a deep breath and replied, “I was at Cheska’s dance room.”
To my surprise, her expression softened a bit. “Oh, I’m glad you’re spending time with her,” she said, her tone shifting.
But then she glanced at my outfit—plain white shirt and jogging pants—and her designer instincts kicked in.
“Darling, I have a daughter who wears such... basic clothes. You know I’m a fashion designer, right?”
“Mom, I just came from dancing!” I protested, trying to defend my choice of outfit.
But she waved me off, her tone firm. “Darling, when can you ever stop with dance and focus on your studies?"
I sighed, knowing she meant well, but her words felt like a heavy weight. It was hard to balance her expectations with my own passions.
“But dance is my passion!” I declared, hoping to ignite some understanding in my mom. But instead, she laughed dismissively. “Oh really? Can you even enumerate five dancers who succeeded?”
I felt a spark of determination, enumerating dancers just like what she askrd, I fired off names, proud of my quick thinking.
But before I could finish, she cut me off. “But did they last long?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Darling, stop with that nonsense. When you grow old you can't dance with a brokem back, whatever, I have yoga class right now.” With that, she closed the door, leaving me standing there, a mix of frustration and disappointment swirling inside.
It was as if every passion I had was just another hurdle to overcome in her eyes. I knew she cared, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t see how much dance meant to me.
As I leaned against the door, I couldn't help but wonder if I’d ever find a way to show her that my dreams were just as valid as her own.
