Drew Starkey Imagines

Dancing in Gold

The ballroom glows in shades of gold. Every light, every shimmer of the mirrored floor feels alive, breathing in rhythm with your heartbeat. Somewhere beyond the stage lights, Drew Starkey sits in the audience — his eyes finding you even before the music begins.

You can feel it before the first note hits: tonight isn't just about the scores or the cameras. It's about him. About the story you're about to tell — one written in movement, in memory, in gold.

⸻

The lights of the Dancing With the Stars ballroom have never seemed brighter. The golden shimmer of the mirrored floor, the way the audience's cheers echo from every corner—it feels almost surreal. You stand just offstage, taking deep breaths as your partner, Val Chmerkovskiy, gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey," Val says, his voice low and calm, the kind of tone only someone who's been through this a hundred times can muster. "You've got this. Forget the cameras. Forget the crowd. Just tell your story out there."

You nod, but your stomach is a swirl of emotions — excitement, nerves, and something else entirely. Because out there, sitting just one row from the dance floor, is Drew.

Even from behind the curtain, you can spot him. He's impossible to miss — broad shoulders wrapped in a navy suit jacket, hair styled effortlessly, that signature grin flashing every time someone from the audience recognizes him. But when his eyes find you — the noise fades.

He mouths, "You've got this, baby."

You smile, heart swelling.

⸻

When you joined Dancing With the Stars, the internet exploded.

"Lifestyle influencer Y/N L/N joins the cast of DWTS, partnered with pro dancer Val Chmerkovskiy!"

And almost immediately, every entertainment outlet added: "Also known as Drew Starkey's girlfriend."

You'd laughed about it with Drew that night.
"Guess I'll have to live up to that title," you'd teased, and he'd just smiled, cupping your cheek.
"You'll be known for so much more than that. I already know it."

Now, six weeks into the competition, you are. People have fallen in love with your genuine energy, your work ethic, your emotional performances. But tonight is different. Tonight's dance is personal.

⸻

The theme: "Most Memorable Year."

You'd chosen 2020, the year you met Drew. The world had been chaotic, but somehow, the two of you found peace in each other. It was the year everything changed — your career, your confidence, your heart.

As the lights dim, the stage transforms into something ethereal — a soft blue glow washes over the floor, and faint golden lights mimic the glow of a summer evening.

Val takes your hand, and the opening notes of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott begin to play.

⸻

From the first step, everything melts away — the cameras, the crowd, the judges. It's just movement and emotion, every twirl and step echoing the story you're telling.

The choreography is gentle but powerful — a blend of contemporary and rumba, with sweeping lifts and fluid transitions.

As Val guides you through a turn, your eyes flick toward Drew. He's sitting forward in his seat, completely still, jaw tight with emotion. His eyes follow every step, every breath you take.

When you drop into the final lift, your head tilts back, the lights bathing your face in gold. Val lowers you to the floor, and you stretch your hand toward the audience — toward Drew — as the music fades into silence.

The room erupts.

Cheers, whistles, the judges rising to their feet.

But all you see is Drew. Standing now, clapping, his eyes glassy with pride.

⸻

The cameras follow as you and Val stand beside the hosts. Your chest heaves, adrenaline still buzzing through your veins. Drew's name gets mentioned — because of course it does — and the camera pans briefly to him.

He waves, smiling bashfully. "She's incredible," he mouths when the host points him out.

The judges give glowing reviews.

Carrie Ann wipes a tear. "That was stunning. You didn't just dance — you told a love story. And we all felt it."

Derek nods. "You've grown so much, Y/N. That was beautiful, effortless, and so authentic."

When the scores appear — straight 10s — the ballroom explodes again.

You throw your hands over your mouth, unable to believe it. Val wraps you in a tight hug, spinning you around. "We did it!" he shouts.

But when you glance over his shoulder, your eyes lock on Drew again. He mouths, "Proud of you."

⸻

Later, backstage is a blur of interviews, lights, and congratulations. You're still in your costume — a soft, flowing white dress sprinkled with sequins that shimmer under every flash.

Then you feel arms wrap around you from behind.

"Hey, superstar," Drew murmurs against your ear.

You turn, grinning, and melt into his chest. The cameras can wait. This moment is just for you two.

He holds you close, one hand on the small of your back, the other cradling your head. "You were unbelievable out there. I swear, I forgot there was anyone else in the room."

"You're just saying that because you have to," you tease, but your voice cracks.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. "No, I'm saying that because it's true. You told our story, Y/N. Every step, every look — I felt it."

You feel tears sting your eyes. "I was so nervous. I didn't want to mess up."

Drew laughs softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "You couldn't mess it up if you tried. You were made for this."

He presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a long, quiet second.

Val walks by, clapping Drew on the shoulder. "You've got a talented one here, man."

Drew grins. "Trust me, I know."

⸻

Hours later, the two of you leave the studio hand in hand. The night air is cool against your skin, the city lights reflecting in the black windows of the parked cars.

As soon as you're in the car, Drew takes your hand again, tracing slow circles against your palm. "Can I just say..." he starts, smiling to himself. "You being up there tonight—seeing how far you've come—I've never been prouder in my life."

You turn to him, heart full. "You're part of that story, you know."

He squeezes your hand. "I know. But tonight, that was all you."

You rest your head on his shoulder as the car pulls away, city lights blurring outside the window. Your phone buzzes with notifications — tweets, fan edits, the clip already trending — but you don't look.

Because right now, the only thing that matters is the quiet rhythm of Drew's thumb against your hand and the way he whispers, almost to himself:

"I can't wait to dance with you when we get home."