I can do this.

I want to do this.

I promised momma I would do this.

If I can teach and cheer I can bloody dance.

I pull my old pointe shoes out of my dance bag that's fraying at the straps and bend them in my hands, feeling the soft material under my fingertips. I've missed the feeling but I know they're going to hurt when I put them back on, I need to rebuild that strength in my bones... and my head.

I wrap the pink ribbon around my fingers, these were the last pair of shoes my momma bought me. I tried to carry on dancing after I moved I managed to keep going for a little while but eventually, the guilt got too heavy and it pained me to dance, every time I tried I'd ended up in a hysterical ball having a panic attack. It was much harder to dance in care too, the other kids would laugh at me for wanting to dance but being a blubbering mess.

I move over to the area of floor in front of the mirrors and slide the shoes onto my feet, they still fit perfectly... they'd need to be changed soon but I guess I have to thank my body for not growing once I hit thirteen, it's doing wonders for my feet now... which is more than can be said about my height...

I never thought I'd be able to do this again. Feel the shoes on my feet, even think about dancing. I don't know what changed, maybe I'm fed up with living in the past and constantly being beaten by the nightmares. I need to start living for me. I've started by making friends... that was a good start but now I need to dance.

I step up and take hold of the barre, I start by going through the positions and stretching out making sure I'm warmed up. I know what I want to do.

I've been thinking about it for weeks.

I want to do a whole contemporary- lyrical piece.

I love ballet but I love incorporating it into contemporary even more, momma used to say how beautiful it was when I created a piece all by myself and for the past few weeks I've been piecing choreography together in my head. Catching my legs moving by themselves when I listen to the music.

I plug my phone into the speaker system and pull up the song I've been mapping for a while. Lovely by Billie Eilish fills the small studio. I take a long breath and take a final look in the mirrors.

I can do this. I have to do this for my momma.

'Thought I found a way, though I found a way out'

I push up onto my shoes, immediately feeling the pressure as my whole body weight rests on my toes. My muscles tighten in my legs as they fan out and support my balance. I hit the floor with such strength, I can't hold back anymore. My body thrashes about rhythmically, my arms enclosing around my face, being careful not to tangle with my hair.

'Oh I hope someday I'll make it out of here'

I go through the notions of producing a simple but elegant jetè, the slow but centred movements concealing emotion that overspills onto my face. A series of arabesques have the fire pumping through my veins.

'Isn't it lovely, all alone?'

I drop to the floor, the weight of the words reflected in my extensions and collapsed stance on the cold floor.

The memories are trying to resurface in my mind, with every step the fire inside me gets more powerful, burning them away. Relighting my mommas' memory in my mind, she's with me when I dance. My body aches with the need to express the pain inside of me.

It's a release of all the hurt and anguish nestling deep inside of me, the past that's been holding me down. I've felt like I've had rocks attached to my feet and the power is frightening, the power of movement and agility.

'But I know someday I'll make it out of here, Even if it takes all night or a hundred years'

I've never felt anywhere more at home than in these shoes, in this headspace. This is a release from the present, from living with marks all over my skin, being afraid to open the front door, never knowing who or what is waiting for me. It's a goodbye to all the time I spent being shipped about in the system because I'd lost my parents, in their attempt to move me out of an abusive home they placed me with another.

I can feel the guilt simmering in my body, it wants to push through. I'm made to feel responsible for my adoptive parents daughters death, even though I wasn't there. I feel responsible for my momma and my sister. I feel responsible for my own abuse.

My legs tremor but I push on, the feeling of power much too strong to deny its right in my limbs. My chest heaves for oxygen and sweat permeates my forehead, my muscles scream and my toes thrash about, writhing in pain, but the good kind of pain.

'Hello, welcome home'

I collapse on the floor immediately pulling my knees to my cheeks, feeling the dampness of my tears. It's so overwhelming, I never thought I'd be able to dance again, I didn't want to.

This feeling is better than winning any competition I've done.

I sob into my hands, half with relief and half with sorrow that my momma isn't here for this, I know she'll be watching somewhere. I don't know if heaven exists but I hope she's somewhere nice.

I hope she's proud of me.

"Never that good my ass Blondie," I freeze as the thump of shoes and Blazes deep voice echo around the room, I hate it when people see me cry, it makes me look even weaker than I am, he'll think I'm pathetic, " I knew you were fucking lying when you went on about how you didn't dance anymore I-" He stops as he gets closer to me and realises I'm not saying anything, "Hey... Atlas... are you... are you alright?"

Maybe if I don't say anything he'll go away? No that's rude?

I make a weird noise that vibrates on my arms as more tears cling to my already damp cheeks.

"What's up butterfly?" He sits down on the floor next to me and puts his large hand on the top of my back. I flinch away unintentionally and end up jumping off the floor, my hands uncover my red-rimmed eyes.

"Uh.. sorry... I uh... I was just about to head out anyway." I mumble searching the floor for my bag before I dash around the studio, I'm close to the door when his arm shoots out and gently grabs my shoulder, I flinch a little but settle into his hold, focussing on the ribbons still laced around my legs.

"Look I know I'm probably the last person you'd want to talk to, I get it I'm an ass but sit down for a second and calm down." His smooth voice comforts me and he holds out a chilled bottle of water. It's strange seeing Blaze so attentive, he can be caring when he wants to be he just doesn't want people to see it.

I've spent weeks with Blaze now and I weirdly feel most comfortable in his company so he's wrong about being the last person I'd want to talk to. Although he sometimes blows hot and cold I find him calming, he's never judgemental and through his grinchy moods he makes me smile sometimes.

I move to the back wall and slump down beside it, Blaze follows. His minty scent capturing me in a bubble. We sit in a comfortable quiet, my chest still heaves in and out heavily, I'm not sure if it's from the exercise or panic attack I've just endured.

Blaze says nothing though, he just sits quietly playing with his rings, occasionally I catch him looking at my shoes and I can tell he's desperate to know why I lied.

"Dancing... it... it... comes with good and bad. I- I- uh... didn't lie, only up until I started cheer again did I really think about starting dance again...." I sigh, fiddling with the bottle cap. I trust Blaze, I don't owe him anything but talking about it makes me feel slightly less insane, It drowns out the screaming in my mind. He's quiet for a few seconds and I think he's mad, I did tell him multiple time I didn't dance.

"Why did you stop?" He asks diverting his full attention to my slumped body.

His tone is softer than normal but his deep voice still makes me tingle slightly.

"I.. well I... I just had a bit of a mental blockade for the past couple of years... like I said dancing comes with good and the bad." That's all I elaborate on and I think he gets I don't want to talk any further about why I stopped since he doesn't push me, just nods and listens. Why I quit is something no one will ever know, I will never be able to talk about that.

"Why'd you decide to start again." He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb and I can feel myself getting slightly hot, I turn away to look at the door.

"I don't know... I made some good friends and decided I need to... let go of a few things and do what I love again... regardless of the consequences..." I smile at Blaze, if I hadn't have met my group of friends I would never be where I am today. They taught me how to be happier and freer, they bought me out of myself.

"Yeah, they're a good bunch." Blaze chuckles absently.

"So... so are you... I meant you in that as well." I bite my cheeks feeling my face heat even more. He almost looks shocked then a sweet state of happiness sweeps across his face. I've gathered over the last few weeks that much like me, Blaze keeps to himself... sure he's popular but that doesn't mean he has close friends, he only that close with Brady.

"You too Blondie... you're a good one, pure." He mumbles, then something resembling disappointment covers his face but only before a split second, "Hey will you dance for me? You're just... incredible, watching that was... well it was beautiful."

"You liked it?" Now I'm the one taken aback, "I've been choreographing it for weeks and I know a lot of it was rusty since I haven't done that much dance in a while-"

"Dance for me?" He cuts off my rambling with a crooked grin, mirroring my own. I've got one more song I've been choreographing but its more of a frustrated, angry song. One I thought about in regards to my dad and what he did. I feel slightly embarrassed doing it for Blaze but something makes my legs move up.

I stand up and go to put the song on when an idea runs into my mind, I stop and face Blaze again whose eyes drift down my legs...

"Alright, I'll dance for you if.... I get to ask you a question?"

"A question?" He laughs puzzled.

"Yeah, any question at all about you. I feel like you know more about me now then I do about you and I want to know more about the mystery that is Blaze Beckett." I raise my eyebrows, hoping he'll say yes. He looks conflicted but after a heavy silence.

"Yeah. Alright." He sighs cautiously.

I grin to myself and walk into the centre of the room, starting in an unusual position, arm In the air, one leg crossed on pointe.

The song- 'Never Tear Us Apart' by Bishop Briggs starts and squeezes around my body. I move with the piano notes. Moving into long brash extensions and arabesques. The rage boils inside of me as it builds to the chorus.

'And they could never, ever tear us apart'

A repeat of pirouettes and turns has me feeling slightly dizzy as I raise my hands above my head, I focus on the wall trying not to lose my head. Then I drop to the floor, the anger rising in my legs as I incorporate some motions with my hands that look like I'm banging on invisible glass.

Thinking of being back in Illinois, trying to get out of the misery that plagued our house. How he plagued our house.

'I was standing, you were there, Two worlds collided'

My momma and my dad really were two worlds collided, ones that should have never orbited. She was sweet and caring, he was nasty and violent and Lucy and I stood there watching it like we were at a planetarium, watching demonstrations of stars exploding and meteors crashing.

The power is coursing through my veins again, inflicting its reign into my movements, dripping into my face muscles. It's pain and it's rage all building in the final movements before I drop to the floor, feeling my heart thumping wildly against my rib cage.

'And they could never, ever tear us apart'

But it did momma, even though I know you're here, you're not really here.

I lay against the cold floor again trying to hold back the tears, it feels good to let out all the anguish I keep buried but I still feel broken.

My eyes sting, blinking I try to keep the tears back. Then I jump a little when another voice is heard behind me.

"Holy Fuck Atty."I swivel up and find everyone standing in the doorway, I was so focused I didn't even see them come in, Brady shakes his head in shock, the others just stand there with their mouths open, I try and block my blush when I see Blaze's bright grin.

Brady runs towards me and lifts me up with a squeal, "What the fuck was that?" He wriggles me around like a rag doll until I'm dropped into my group of friends.

Carrie slaps me hard on my arms with the back of her hand, I wince at the sting, " Oww! What-"

"I knew you could dance you liar!" She pouts crossing her arms across her pink fluffy jacket, "This is shit you don't keep from your best friend!"

"That was incredible Atlas, what the hell? It was like watching a professional" Emily gushes showing me a few pictures she took on her camera, I admire them for a bit letting a smile travel up my face. I still had pictures from competitions and recitals when I was younger but these are different, I just looked so much more mature, more emotional.

"Yeah, I didn't even know it was you at first." Rutherford nods at Emily then at me.

"Seriously, where did you learn to dance like that?" Ethan asks eyes wide. The questions are overwhelming and I don't know how to answer them, I don't want to lie to them either.

"Well- uh I- I used to dance but stuff just got in the way and- well it was kind of you guys that got me back into it, you showed me what fun was like and you taught me not to care about anything else," I turn my head to glance at Blaze who's nodding thoughtfully at me, "So uh... thanks, guys."

They all beam at me and suddenly I'm being squashed between them all in a hug, I giggle being the shortest one, everyone towering over me. Even Blaze is on the edge, I lean out and place my hand on his back, trying to tell him thanks for listening to me.

He smiles and gives me a small nod, something flashes through his eyes but he quickly looks away.

"Did you choreograph all that?" Vixxie asks in awe. I nod.

"You have to help me choreograph some cheer routines." Carrie gushes.

'Omg yes, A! Please!" Vixxie jumps up and down.

"What- what about Hannah," I murmur, I hardly think she'd appreciate me stepping on her toes even more.

"Don't give a fuck about her, you're way better and she can fuck herself." Blaze chuckles.

"And as I've said before, she won't enjoy it. She's fucking boring between the sheets." Brady winces making us all laugh.

"And you're way more beautiful than she is." Blaze whispers in my ear before we walk out of the studio, my face flushes and I can hear his deep laugh rumble behind me.

I'm sure he finds teasing me to be a hobby...

But maybe I like teasing...

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

😂