𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑋𝑜𝑛𝑒

𝐿𝑋

I loved to spoil the crew and dancers. They weren't just a team to me, they were family. And today, after the final show, I made sure they knew it. The tour might have been over, but the bond we'd built wasn't going anywhere.

I covered everyone's flights home, except for Gil, of course. He decided to stay back in Hawaii to spend time with his family. As for the rest of us, we flew back to California together, and I treated everyone to a lavish dinner. It was my way of saying thank you, of reminding them that the connection we shared didn't end just because the curtain had closed.

"From now on, we're family," I told them at the dinner table, my voice filled with sincerity. "This doesn't end here."

The smiles and cheers that followed made my heart swell. Taking care of them was important to me, but now it was time to take care of myself.

Once everyone was settled, I started making calls. First up was Angie Martinez. I laid out my plan to her, explaining every detail, and to my relief, she was all in. She even sounded excited, her voice buzzing with enthusiasm as we spoke.

Not long after, I was on my private jet, heading straight for New York. As soon as I landed, I picked up the phone and called Tyra Banks. If anyone could help me bring this vision to life, it was Tyra.

I felt a wave of anticipation as the phone rang, knowing that every step I was taking was bringing me closer to something big, something freeing.

I started off my morning like I had every other morning for the past few months, dragging myself out of bed and heading to the gym in Tyra's building. I had to keep moving, had to find some way to feel normal again. My mornings began with the familiar squeak of the exercise bike I used, a constant rhythm that filled the silence in my mind.

I told Janet I was moving out of her place, but I lied about where I was going. I wasn't moving into my own place like I claimed, I was moving in with Tyra. She insisted.

She said she couldn't stand watching me suffer in that loft, surrounded by the echoes of my past with Janet. At first, I tried to push back, but I couldn't argue with her for long. She was relentless in her way of caring, the kind of friend who didn't just tell you what you wanted to hear.

And maybe she was right. Every inch of that space reminded me of Janet, the scent of her favorite candle still lingering, the pile of vinyl records she left behind, her handwriting on little Post-its stuck in random places. It was suffocating.

Living with Tyra was different, though. Her space was filled with her energy, bright, bold, unapologetic. It wasn't my home, not really, but it was safe. It was where I could finally start to untangle the mess in my head, piece by piece.

As I pedaled on the bike, staring out at the city skyline, I tried not to think about Janet. About how we ended. About what she might be doing now. But no matter how fast I pedaled, the thoughts crept back in, like they always did.