I waddle down the grand staircase with my ballet shoes dangling over my shoulder by their ribbons. The crick in my neck from the poor nights' sleep is doing absolutely nothing to ease any tension that sits heavy in my limbs.

The house is quiet, the daylight only just breaking through the snowy clouds, I wanted to get up and stretch before anyone else got up. I was rehearsing the downstairs studio into the early hours of the morning and I probably would have been there all night if Blaze hadn't had literally picked me up and thrown me over his shoulder, carrying my aching body up to my room.

I'd laid there for hours just staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep, anxiety plaguing my mind in anticipation for today. I just kept going over all the things that could go horrifically go wrong, I could break something or forget my routine, my legs might not be straight enough, what if I'm too short? What if I'm not as good as my mom?

I hadn't even noticed Blaze had crept in and scooted under the comforter beside me, pulling me into his front. We spent hours just talking- his attempt to relax me, it worked for a while and when he could no longer hold his eyes open he drifted into sleep, keeping his arms secure around me. I watched him peacefully breathe in and out, I swear I even saw a frigging smile fall onto his blush lips.

I reach the bottom of the staircase, a whirring sound escapes the kitchen halting me in my tracks. The soft hum of the radio accompanies the whirring with a pop song energising the room. Maybe Helens up? Gem likes to wake her up early...

Curiosity tugs at me and I poke my head around the doorway, Bennett stands by a coffee machine, two mugs in front of him. One has a college football team on and the other a broadway musical logo. Shirley is standing by the stove, pans lining the hobs as she ties her pink apron tightly around her hips.

I don't know whether it's the smell of coffee brewing or my doom impending day that's making me nauseous but I jump when Shirley looks up from the food in the black pan and says, "Morning love, you're up early."

I move further into the kitchen, her warm smile pulling me forward.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I was coming down to stretch, I didn't think anyone else was up." I slug over to the island taking my shoes and resistance bands off my shoulder.

"Nerves?" Shirley leans over the counter and softly encloses my hand in hers, I give her a sheepish nod and she squeezes my hand encouragingly, "Well don't let us stop you with your stretches," She nods at my bands with a smile, she's been nagging Blaze to let her watch me do something ballet related when he wouldn't let her in whilst I was rehearsing last night. I take the hint that she wants to watch me stretch which I don't mind as much and I really need to work out the acid sitting idly in my muscles right now.

"Coffee?" Bennett asks from the corner of the kitchen, a sleepy smile above his chin.

"No, thank you," I say quietly starting with some simple stretches just to warm my aching muscles.

"Is this your first time in New York?" Shirley asks sipping her freshly brewed cup of coffee, steam running around her wispy strands of hair that shape her face.

"Yeah... I've always wanted to come through, my mom grew up here and she used to talk about it all the time." I smile, I've finally made it to New York...

"Blaze better be showing you around at some point!" She points an accusatory wooden spoon at me, making me giggle.

"He is," I say picking up my green resistance band and hooking it around my foot and pulling. Shirley looks deep in thought as she swirls some liquid in a saucepan, she sighs leaning forward on her elbow.

"Blaze never likes visiting, I can tell when he's here... but this time... he just looks so happy, you wouldn't think he'd been forced here." She smiles at me, Bennett shaking his head as he settles into a chair near me, picking up a newspaper. What is it with old people reading physical newspapers... you only ever see grandparents reading them... you can get the news online now...

"He actually wanted to come, no matter how much I protested... he was adamant he was coming." I try and push the words through the fuzziness in my chest, he'd chosen to come because of me.

"He... he... chose to come... too New York." Bennetts paper crumples in his hands, gaping at me with eyebrows raised. I nod stretching my foot over my head, keeping it steady with the band. They share a look across the counter and then look back at me, I stare at the floor feeling like I said something I shouldn't have.

"And... he doesn't hate it... here." I gesture around the house, "He may dislike New York for obvious reasons but he loves it here, he's always talking about you and the things he did with you growing up." I flush feeling their gazes intensify. The air is tense, the only sound being the bubbling and sizzling from the stove... did I say the wrong thing?

Bennett clears his throat, ripping through the tension.

"Thank you, Atlas." Shirley's serious tone has my eyebrows downturned, she picks up on my confusion and her eyes soften giving me a sweet smile, "For everything you've done for him." Her eyes glass over and she turns away to stir a pot before anything can slip out.

"Oh... I uh... really haven't done anything... he's done so much more for me and everything else he's done on his own." I force a short laugh from my throat not sure what else to say but it's true... who knows where I'd be right now without Blaze.

"No wonder he likes you," Bennett mumbles shaking his head with the same cheeky smile as Blazes. I keep quiet not really sure what he means and pull my foot higher feeling the burn in my thighs. "You'd give my boys a run for their money." He points at my foot looking impressed, I can imagine he's the coach everyone wants to train with, but I laugh.

"I doubt it, I can't catch a football to save my life. Blaze tried to teach me a few weeks ago and I got hit in the face." The kitchen erupts into laughter... it wasn't that funny at the time. I had a bruised nose for a week and a boyfriend who wouldn't stop apologising- it wasn't even his fault I can't frigging catch- but it's seemed to lighten the mood in the kitchen.

"Name."

Buh-dum

Buh-dum

"Uh... Atlas... Atlas Grove ma'am"

Buh- dum

Buh-dum

"Hmm"

My heart rattles against my ribcage, everything else barely audible above the thumping in my ears. My hands shake on top of my leotard, my feet in first position. I maintain eye contact with the ballet masters, directors and teachers staring down their noses at me from the long table covered with headshots and pages full of notes. A tepid glass of water sits in front of each one of them, a pen in their hands each with a copy of my headshot, rèsumè and application.

"Reviewing your notes from the technique and style workshops this morning I can see teachers were rather impressed Miss Grove." A slender woman sat in the middle of the panel in a black leotard and wrap around, salsa shoes on her feet, looks through her glasses at me, hair pulled into a bun on the bottom of her head. Her gaze sends a chill down my spine, pointed and cold. " And reviewing your application, references and experience... we've gathered a... informative picture of you." I gulp, air trapped in my windpipe... informative?"But... we want to get a more personal insight into you as a dancer." She drops my application on the desk and narrows her eyes at me. I smile sweetly at her, my lips trembling.

"How long have you been dancing?" A man sat next to the middle lady with a narrowed gaze asks, he's wearing a patchwork scarf with frayed edges and a pair of grey joggers.

"Since I could walk, my mom taught me as soon as I took my first steps." I gulp, their faces giving nothing away.

"You attended several classes before enrolling at... Royal Welbry Dance academy in Illinois... correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You have also been an active part of several cheer teams but it seems after your move to Atlanta, your training record becomes rather... sparse. Care to explain why that is Miss Grove." The panel look over their papers at me like they're about to boot me out right now and ban me from New York forever.

Buh-dum

Buh-dum

It's very hot in here, isn't it?

"Oh... yes... I...uh..." Pull yourself together! You're going to ruin everything! "Before I moved to Atlanta something happened that stopped me dancing for a while..." I try to maintain eye contact but the tears burn at the back of my eye sockets.

"Something? An injury? Your notes don't mention any major inju-"

"No... uh, not physical..." The spindly menacing woman raises her eyebrows expectantly... she wants me to tell her what happened? Shit. "Well... uh my mom... and sister... passed...suddenly. She too was a dancer and doing it without her... well yeah, uh then I was put into foster care." My gaze drops to the floor, cheeks burning... I just said it out loud... without completely breaking down... I-

"Why do you dance? What is it about dancing that you put your life and soul into it." A smaller woman with fiery red hair asks at the end of the panel with a small smile, her friendly warmth is like a furnace in the room of cold stares.

"Dance fuels me in a way that nothing else does. It's an escape that I can just pour myself into. I crave the pain in my feet from my pointe shoes and the ache in my muscles after a completed routine. I feel... free when I'm dancing, I feel like me." I blush keeping eye contact with the red-haired woman who nods understandingly, the smile never falling from her lips.

"Why do you want to study at Julliard?" The pointed, cold woman asks again.

"Julliard has always been a dream of mine, everything I've worked for has always had Juilliard as the end goal. It's an incredible institution that can really help further and develop my skills." I smile slightly, proud with the bum-lick answer they ask practically every student.

"One last question before we see what you have prepared- where do you see yourself in five years?"

Buh-dum

Buh-dum

I only started dancing again about five months ago, up until then... I didn't really have much hope for the future, I just wanted to get out. Afraid one day I might not, that every punch or kick would take another month off my life. Until I met Blaze and my friends I didn't value many other people but who knows what's going to happen at the end of the year let alone five. I shudder, I can't think about that now.

"Five years...? Well, I don't like to be too presumptuous but... in five years, I want to be surrounded by people who love and care about me, here in New York.... Julliard graduate...New York City Ballet... principal dancer...I want to be happy and do what I love every day." I let go of a breath, the panel looking at me harshly.

"Very ambitious Miss Grove... very ambitious indeed." The pointed spindly lady purses her lips, gaze narrowed through her glasses, tapping a pen next to her beauty mark above her lip, "Alright your piece, what have you conjured up to show us?" I can't mistake the taste of disdain in her tone and my pulse rises.

"Uh... I'll be doing a Contemporary Ballet routine." My hands shake.

"Who choreographed it?"

"I did, ma'am." Her brows raise ever so slightly and she waves her hand to the man controlling the lights and music.

"Alright. Whenever you're ready Miss Grove."

This is it. Your one chance. Breathe. Listen. Feel. Let the music flow through you, feel the freedom course through your veins. You've got this Atlas. Just calm. This is what you want to do, this is what you want, what you've worked for. This is you. This is mine. And nobody can take that from you right now.

Blaze is hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. A scowl pulling his brows down. Helen's leg is bouncing up and down, fingers linked in her lap staring at the ground and Gemma twirls around the lobby space admiring the large banners with Julliard dancers that flow down the long walls by the reception desk.

Other students and auditionees bustle about going to and fro classes. The loud chattering echoing off the dome-like ceiling. Blaze looks up from his position and jumps to his feet walking towards me.

"How was it? Was it alright? How'd you think you did?"

"Well i-"

'Wait- don't answer that, you would have done amazingly regardless. What were they-" I lean up on my tiptoes and place a warm kiss on his lips, cutting him off before he pulls me flush against him, arms sliding around my waist as he deepens the kiss. A surge of fire running through me, making me feel safe again- out of harm from the cold glares and harsh questions. I pull back but he doesn't let me go.

"I... I don't know how it went... it was kind of a blur when I started dancing. I'm sure I stumbled on one of my turns and I was late on a jump, I'm not sure how straight my-"

His hands cup my face running his thumbs across my blistering cheeks. "You are your own worst critic Blondie." A smile lifts his eyes brightening the blue pools. I melt internally resting my head on his chest.

"They asked me loads of hard questions, I don't think they liked my answers either." I sigh remembering the disgruntled noises and menacing gazes.

"Fuck them." Blaze drawls amusement tinting his tone, a small smile on his lips, "I'm proud of you Atlas." His hand rests on the nape of my neck pulling us even closer to each other, I can hear his steady heart through the tight grey T-shirt.

"We... all are. We're really proud of you honey." Helen squeezes my arm as I pull back from Blaze.

"Well, I wouldn't have been able to get here without any of you so thank you." I smile, my eyes glassing over as Blaze links our fingers, leading us all through the lobby towards the exit, just as the cold from the open door bites my cheeks the clicking of frantic heels echos behind us.

"Wait! Miss Grove!" I spin around, pulling Blaze with me. The short firey haired woman at the end of the panel is running through the lobby, salsa shoes slamming against the marble floor tiles. "Sorry." She says as she reaches us, bending over to catch her breath.

"Can I- uh- help you?" Panic surges through me... are they cutting me right now? Oh god.

"Don't look so worried. It's nothing bad... I was just looking over your application details and well I don't mean to be awfully forward but you look very much like someone I used to teach... someone very special..." She smiles at me sorrowfully... "Your last name... Grove..." She opens her mouth and then hesitantly shuts it, pailing slightly.

My skin bites cold...

"What?" Blaze barks beside me, I think he can see how anxious I'm getting but I yank his arm with a glare. Helen also scalding her son with a death glare.

"Sorry..." She smiles amused at me and Blaze, "Well you wouldn't happen to be related to Evie Grove?"

My heart falls through my stomach at the sound of her name. The bustling of students drowned out by the thumping of blood in my ears. I can feel Blazes arm fall around my shoulders and I subconsciously move closer into him, trying to hide from the pain that isn't physical.

"She... she was... my mom," I say hoarsely. Her eyes widen, lips part and she shuffles on her feet.

"Oh... Of course...you look just like her. When you walked in, I nearly choked on my water. I thought it was her. And then when you started dancing... you're the spitting image of your mom. She was an exceptional dancer.... Like you and Julliard will forever be indebted to her. One of the most exceptional people I've ever met... she had the kindest soul, the biggest heart." I can feel the tears building in my eyes, I've never heard anyone talk about her and to know what other people thought of her...

"I'm... I'm sorry for your loss... and the circumstance in which..." She trails off and reaches for my hand, "I had her in my first year of teaching, we were more friends than anything though and she taught me more than I taught her." The redhead lets a small laugh through her lips, remorse swimming in her eyes. "I never thought I'd meet her prodigy... Atlas Grove... you know, she did always love to travel with the Company... Atlas." She nods to herself, her smile is sad and before I even notice it, Blaze is wiping the tears from under my eyes rubbing my arm in a tight hold. I love hearing about my mom, I love it more than it hurts. Knowing she had a good life before...

"Anyway, I just needed to know... uh I hope you enjoy the rest of your time in New York and... thank you... for auditioning." She goes to turn but stops again facing me, " She lives in you when you dance Atlas." And with that, she walks away back through the throng of students walking towards the exit.

"Hey, you okay?" Blaze murmurs in my ear. I nod and after scanning my face he smiles at me and pulls us into the bustling New York street, "Atlas Grove... The prodigy..." He mocks making me giggle. The grey snow clouds reflect in his eyes making them look stony. He looks down at me and smiles squeezing my hand.

This. This is what I want in five years... I want the family, the city life, the dance career... and I want Blaze.

Because I am hopelessly in love with the broody quarterback who has changed my life in every single aspect.