Hunter Hayes Imagines

Wanted: Dancer (sequel to previous)

(Your POV)
You pull your hair up in the familiar bun in the mirror. Many dancers mingle and bustle through the hall that acts as the main dressing room for this national competition. You've been training so hard and so long. It was time for you to win the national title. It was your turn to shine. Though you had nerves that had nerves. You knew Hunter would be in the audience and your main song you'd be dancing to was 'Wanted'. It was for your contemporary piece and it had you in frets. Should you tell Hunter not to come, so you don't feel as bad when you miss small things and ruin his song. Your phone chimed and you saw it was a text from Hunter. "Good luck, my ballerina. - H"

(Hunter's pOv)
I shuffle to my seat and look up at the stage as I sit down. "How long before it starts?" A girl off to my left questions.

I hold out my watch to check and show her that we have 15 minutes.

"Great. Thanks. I already turned off my phone and didn't want to go to the trouble... My sister is on the program tonight, she's fantastic. Who are you here to see?"

"My- a friend." I had to stop myself from using the term 'girlfriend' after all she hasn't agreed to that term yet. It just exists in my mind.

Unfortunately the use of the word fiend seems to alert the girl sitting next to me to the fact that I am single, I can see the light flash in her eye and instantly try to curb her enthusiasm.

"Actually, we're more than friends, I'm hoping to make it official soon. Tonight in fact."

This does the trick and she loses interest. Before I know it the lights are dimming and noise fades away.

(Your POV)
You stand at the side with the host saying this was the contemporary round. Where the dancers would show their techniques to the best of their ability. You peek out to see Hunter sitting in the crowd, you bite your lip and he sees you. You wave shyly and he sends you one back with a grin. You sigh and the butterflies in your stomach are back up again. You stand back to watch the first dance knowing full well you're up next. You look at the program to see your name and song you'd be performing. You hoped to do it justice.

(Hunter's pOv)
"I don't know how the next girl is going to pull off her number." The women next to me whispers as the first performance comes to a close.

I look down at where she points in her program and realize I didn't receive a program. I'll have to try to get my hands on one later. When I squint in the dim lights I see '(y/n)........... Wanted' "I mean really, it just doesn't fit, I'm afraid to watch." She titters and I hold back a laugh.

"I bet she can do it and do a fair job." I defend.

"Oh, what makes you say that? Have you seen this dancer before?"

"Yes, this is my friend." I whisper as the curtain raises and (y/n) stands in the ready position. I resist clapping just in the nick of time.

(Your POV)
You swallow hard as you stand in your position. You're glad you can't see Hunter for the bright lights but then you hear the into to the song and start to dance. Tip toeing to the piano keys being played then begins the difficult choreography you've trained with for months. Many ballerinas hadn't tried this song because of the non-constant beat and the difficulty needed. When the song ended and you maintained your resting position, you realized you hadn't missed a step or missed anything. You grinned, you could win.

(Hunter's pOv)
I jump to my feet and clap, loud, hard, excited. I cheer and shout and then realize I am the only one making more noise than the smashing of hand against hand. I sit down and blush slightly. I thought about getting her flowers before the show but I didn't, I regret that now. As the other dancers come and go I find myself watching closely. None of the other dancers do such a modern song, they stick with mostly the classics and definitely don't do anything near as risky as Wanted. As the last dancer leaves the stage I clap for the last time. I wonder what's coming next. Did she win?