THE THINGS THAT HOLD US DOWN

- C H A P T E R 9 -

I'm going to dedicate this chapter to Miia_Vee because she said she was impatient for the next chapter (or something similar) and that made me happy.

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Just as we are about to get on stage, a slight throbbing started in my head, bringing a slight lightheadedness with it. I made a mental note to drink some more water after the dance. I couldn't dance very well while being dehydrated and fainting or tripping on stage definitely wouldn't add to the performance.

I ran on stage with the everyone else, ignoring my headache and the waves of dizziness and took my position. Focusing instead, on the dance and the audience in front of me rather than the pain. This was my favourite dance, I reminded myself, I really couldn't screw this up. The lights flashed on, dim at first and then gradually fading to a stronger and brighter light, slowly with the music. I started moving in time with the others. We split apart as the music got faster, marching to a new formation. The red strobe lights started flashing to go with the erratic beats of the music. My arms swung around, finding their choreographed position to my neck and flicking to my waist and out before me. The music changed, becoming more sensual and with more of a remix to the original version. The words red lips have a filthy prize echoed, our bodies popped in a synchronized beat. They became faster with the music, merging into robotic ripples, before the music changed again, back to the headache-inducing music, made up of noise that sounded more like a power tool than anything else.

The end of the song soon came with a series of repeated beats where we gradually came back together in a position similar to how it started. I was very glad when the audience began their clapping and the light fell, allowing us to leave the stage. I ran off in the dark while trying to simultaneously not fall over from the dizziness that had reached a new level. I stumbled back into our designated room and dropped to the floor when I reached my pile of bags. I ripped through them looking for the water bottle I was certain that I had shoved somewhere in a pocket here.

"And what exactly is driving you into a frenzy now?" Alex commented as she calmly sat down, out of the way of the flying projectiles.

"Water," I replied, not having enough time to think of an intelligent response.

"If you're looking for water to magically appear in your bag then I think you'd have more luck in a desert."

"Did you miss the incredible invention of the water bottle?" Relief filled me as my hand wrapped around the familiar plastic of the bottle, "the first plastic water bottle was made in 1973, Nathaniel Wyeth."

"I'm not even going to bother asking why you know that fact of all things." I didn't even summon the energy to roll my eyes at her sarcastic comment. Rather, I decided to continue rambling about water bottles.

"But then," I carried on, ignoring Alex completely while I quickly chugged my water down, "I would be completely dismissing the fact that people used waterskins for the great part of time." I chose to look at her to increase the dramatic effect of my next words, "And that was 5000 years ago." I say it completely deadpan, waiting for her to say something. She burst out laughing instead of speaking which greatly boosts my ego. I decided then that I would become a comedian if school, specifically the subject labelled maths, got too hard.

"What goes on inside your head?" She questions with a look mixed between disbelief and humour. I go to answer her but she sees and intercepts quickly, "Nope, that was rhetorical, I really don't want to know."

"Rude." I sniff and turn away from her, feigning hurt. I feel another throb in my head, reminding me of my little issue so quickly I turn to grab it. I immediately regret moving so fast as faintness comes back to join the party currently raging in the walls of my skull.

"Rowan?" Alex reaches a hand out to my shoulder, "Are you okay?" I groan, failing to provide an answer with any actual helpful information.

"Uh, do you want me to get a teacher? Or some painkillers?" She sits back trying to be helpful but failing just as miserably as I did only a few seconds prior.

"Um, if you wait a few seconds then I'll tell you where I put the painkillers." I scrunch my eyes shut and rest my head on my arm.

"Why can't you tell me where they are now?"

"Simply because my brain hurts too much to concentrate." I snap.

"My sincere apologies." She really doesn't sound like she means it but I was too occupied to really care. We wait a grand total of two minutes before I can think safely again.

"Okay," I sit up, blinking to clear my vision. "In the side pocket of the grey bag, the zip pocket, is a box of paracetamol." She picks up the bag mentioned and roots around for the small box. Upon finding it, she pulls it out and holds it up for my inspection. I nod and she chucks it in my lap.

"Was it too hard to pop the pills out as well?" I eye the closed box distatefully.

"And your last slave died of what exactly?" She frowns at me before pulling out her phone, dismissing me completely. I groan, a last attempt to illicit more sympathy and servitude. It doesn't work. So, instead, I take the box and pop the pills of myself, swallowing them with the last of my water.

"What dance are the others on now? I asked, referring to Lexi, Whitney, Hazel and Malia, who had two separate dances from their after school contemporary dance club.

"They've finished their first one and probably, the dance inbetween their second one is still going on." She informs me. So I should have about three more dances to recover then. Hopefully by that time the medicine would have kicked in and I would be a fully functioning human again.

I sit back, leaning against the wall that provides little comfort but a place to rest at least. I close my eyes, intending to only have a little nap.