50 Shades of Ariana

36

What the fuck?

I looked at her in confusion and she takes my hand while I'm in the state of confusion.

"Once tour is over, YOU are dropping off the grid. I will provide for us." She says with a smile.

I continued to look at her crazily.

My plan was to leave and start over. Maybe dancing for another artist or just go back to school in a new line of work.

but then again, in what world was THAT realistic.

"Ariana, no." I say pulling my hand away.

Her demeanor changed to annoyance.

"Well I don't remember you ever having a option. Remember who bought you." She spat.

"Scooter and Scott manage me. Won't it be weird that I will suddenly stop working?" I say trying to undermine her.

"Not if you tell them you decided to only dance for me." She says confidently.

"We need time apart to realize what we really want."

"And what I really want is you." She says rubbing my cheek with a small smile.

"But what do I really want?"

That question snapped her and she slapped me.

That slap held all the hurt I just threw on her and it stung like hell.

The tears were burning and I knew I deserved it.

"After all I've done, you still don't want me. You want me to be better, but keep triggering me. For me to get better for us and mostly your sake is by working with me, but you're such a brainless whore-" She pauses in anger and backs up.

"I'm sorry. It was a impulse hit. It won't happen again. I'll get you some ice and then we need to get to bed for stage rehearsal and the show tomorrow."

She walks over to the bathroom and comes out with a towel and puts ice in it then uses a hair tie to close it. She hands it to me without looking mr in the eye and goes into the bathroom to shower.

She technically was right. She had been good up until I said some hurtful shit.

I didn't deserve to be hit, but I definitely shouldn't have said that.

I accept defeat and go in the bathroom to shower with her.

The next day, my face was normal thankfully. The dancers smiled in my face, but definitely were whispering amongst themselves probably about me.

My worst nightmare as a dancer.

When we break and I was stretching and grabbing my stuff, I heard the same group whispering and low key eyeing me.

"If you're going to talk shit about me, at least say it to my face. Questions are resourceful." I rolled my eyes as I stormed away out of the venue.

I got into the Tahoe and just put my head on knees.

I was completely defeated.

My own partners had formed a opinion about me.

My best friend and I were on rocks.

My parents have to read about me instead of hearing from me.

My dream and spirit was being crushed all in front of me.

My "girlfriend" is a wide assortment of good and bad.

I had no exit.

I can't replay or escape this reality.