The Ballerina & The Devil

Epilogue.

A/N: The song in the media box is Begin Again by Taylor Swift.

10 Years Later

"MacKenzie, you're lucky I'm even coming to begin with," I snapped into my phone, pausing with my hand on the entrance to Starbucks. "Don't push it."

I forced the door open which caused the usual annoying tinkering bell to ensue and stepped into the cafe. I suppressed my groan at the sight of the long line to the counter, and cursed myself for oversleeping again.

"What the hell do you mean I'm lucky?" Kenzie asked, sounding downright appalled. "I'm lucky that my best friend, one of my Matron of Honors has decided to grace me with her presence at my wedding? You can go straight to hell, Demi."

"You know what I mean," I said in slight exasperation. "You know perfectly well how busy I am. I had to schedule next Saturday off months in advance so I could attend this thing, and even then I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it."

"Oh, we get it. You're a world renowned ballerina who's taking the world by storm. You have tour and interviews and press and obligations and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Newsflash, Demetria, even if you had to perform for the Queen of England next Saturday I would expect you to ditch the tea and crumpets and carry out your duties as my Matron of Honor! Stop acting like you're doing me a favor!"

"Kenzie," Majesty spoke up, sounding a little irritated. "How many times have I told you not to call us your Matrons of Honor? It makes us sound old."

"We all became old once we hit twenty five. Embrace it," Kenzie said airily before her tone took on a strict note. "Oh my g- no, you guys! The flowers need to be arranged pink, gray, peach, and white in that order exactly! You can't put the peach next to the pink! We aren't heathens!"

I smiled, rolling my eyes as I waited ever so impatiently for the slow line to inch forward.

I glanced down at the time on my wristwatch, and my anxiety skyrocketed. I was going to be late for yet another meeting with my manager. Ashley was going to bury me alive.

I suppose stopping for coffee wasn't the smartest idea. The only justification I had was that I would regret not getting my usual drink more so than getting it in the near future. I was practically the walking dead when I didn't have my coffee.

Technically, I was prioritizing.

"Anyway, Demi," Kenzie regretfully turned her attention back to me. "I don't know why you're taking a tone with me. All I suggested was that you bring a date."

"And I told you I don't want to bring a date," I shifted the strap of my purse on my shoulder, letting out a sharp huff.

"Do you want to die alone? Is that your goal?"

"Kenzie, just stop it," Majesty sighed, sounding a little amused. "She isn't going to die alone."

"Are you sure about that? Because she's pushing thirty, and her last relationship was eight months ago. Almost a year, and it wasn't even a serious one! Your biological clock is ticking, D. I suggest you get your head in the game if you don't want end up a spinster."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, deciding to humor her.

"I'm being serious," she paused for a heartbeat. "When was the last time you had sex?"

Majesty giggled, and I let an irritated tut.

"Is that any of your business, K?"

"Of course it is. If you can't discuss your sex life with me, who can you discuss it with?"