ONE
I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight, and my body worn.
Sweat dripped from my brow and the ache in my muscles would take a hell of a lot more than a warm bath to get rid of.
But it was worth it to see the grin on my dance tutor's face as I finished the complete routine without a single mistake.
“Amazing!” She clapped as we finished the choreography in sync with each other, “That was perfection!” She grinned, her hands going to her tiny waist, her abs on display in a black crop and shorts combo.
She was as damp with sweat as I was, her grin wide as she wiped the droplets from her forehead and pushed her shaggy blonde hair away.
“Finally,” I panted, bending over, and taking in gulps of air.
The sun beamed in the studio as it slowly made its descent on the horizon.
I loved having practice at this time of the day. The other classes had finished and I got one on one time with Maggie Fray.
It was just a name to most people but in the dancing world? She was an icon.
She had danced with the best, on tour, choreographing music videos, and on the big stages of the world.
Now she taught her own academy so women like me could follow in her footsteps. I was determined to do that too.
Which is why when the other classes left, I stayed. I had been staying late for years, learning every dance she knew.
“Thanks for helping me learn these routines, Charlotte. It’s helped having a second opinion on choreography for the tour,” she grinned, her smile always wide.
She started stretching, warming down. I did too, hoping it helped alleviate the ache of trying to keep up with a pro.
I had been in her academy for four years- since leaving high school. I taught a junior class for her. But I had never been to competitions or on stage.
My parents had sunk every dollar they had into my tuition at the academy. They still did. I worked at the academy as much as I could too. And it only covered enough to attend.
But that was enough because it meant more time with Maggie.
She had taught me everything I knew.
I sat on the hardwood floor, spreading my legs and touching the tips of my toes, “I still can’t believe you’re going on tour with Hellfire. They’re some kind of music gods and you get to be there when they make the music. They don’t even do meet and greets anymore so that’s huge,” I said tucking my long, black hair behind my ear.
I used to tie it up but Maggie had taught me to wear it down.
She said if I could complete my dance with annoying strands of hair distracting me then it would teach me to ignore the distractions of the real world when I’m on stage.
Maggie bent her legs in, reaching forward over the floor as far as she could. She had much shorter hair than I did and big earrings.
Her green eyes turned to me from her pose, “I doubt I’ll get to meet them. From what the manager bitch I’ve been dealing with has said, us dancers are to stay in the crew bus, come on stage for the sets that require us, and then go back. Be seen and not heard, blah, blah, blah,” Maggie rolled her eyes, “I hate going on tour with bands that can’t appreciate a good crew.”
I nodded along but really, all I could think was that it was still fucking awesome. Going on tour with the hottest band in the rock world right now?
I was sick with jealousy. At least by helping Maggie with the dances for the tour, I could pretend I was cool enough to get a spot.
“Blake is on bass guitar. He’s okay,” I said, remembering his prince charming looks like they were still next to me in bed. Or beneath me.
Ashy blonde, unkept hair, baby blue eyes, and a charming smile that I had adored. But it had been high school. A bit of fun before he had said goodbye to Evanston High School, replacing it with a rockstar lifestyle.
But I wasn’t bitter. We’d had fun, he was hot as hell and I missed that now and then. I hadn’t heard from him since though. His mom still lived next door and updated me on every little thing he was doing.
Living the dream, apparently. I was happy for him. After his father had passed, things could have gone the other way for him.
Maggie must have seen the memories in my mind because she smirked, getting to her feet, “So. You’re a Blake girl. Interesting,” she grinned, walking over to our water bottles. She took a sip, “I thought you’d be more of an Atlas girl,” she winked.
I laughed, “Atlas is hot too. But he’s still got that asshole vibe he had at high school.”
I drunk some water and then pulled my jumper out of my bag. I pulled it on over my tight white crop and black lycra shorts.
“Right. Blake, Atlas, and Felix. Evanston’s crowning achievements now,” Maggie smirked.
“The golden trio. They got away with everything back then. I suppose they still do,” I sighed wistfully.
Atlas had gotten me in trouble so many times, fucked with me, and then warned me away because I was distracting Blake.
Like it was my choice his friend enjoyed what we were doing.
Fuck Atlas.
Felix was another story. He was fucked up. He had never cared either way. He just wanted to drink away the shit he was going through at home. Everybody knew he had it rough but nobody dared bring it up after he put a guy in hospital for mentioning his new foster family.
Orphan was the ultimate dig to him and as long as you didn’t say it around him, he seemed fine.
I just stayed out of his way.
But it had been four years since those three had been in my life and I was pretty sure they didn’t even remember I existed.
In Atlas’ case, that was probably intentional. Felix had more than likely drunk away the memories.
But Blake… sometimes I wondered if he remembered.
We had never been serious or promised each other anything but I couldn’t forget. Some part of me hoped he couldn’t either. But that was the teenage part of me.
I was 22 now and had a life to create. One where I danced on stages and moved to music that didn’t come from the speaker on my phone.
“Well, they don’t carry the right equipment for me but if you ever do get the chance, steer clear. That manager of theirs is a witch who warned us to stay away from them. And any band who can’t at least meet their crew is not worth what you have to give.” Maggie’s warning was fair but pointless.
I was not in her league when it came to dancing on tours. But I didn’t say that, instead I just smiled and hung my bag on my shoulder, “I know. There’s enough stories online about them for me to only have a mild crush on their hot as hell physiques,” I smirked.
No matter how many articles came out warning girls away from them, that they were the ultimate boy band vibes, that they were toxic- there was still another one waiting to be used.
Maggie hung her bag on her shoulder and we walked to the door as the sun sunk further. She opened the glass doors and we walked out.
“Are you going to be okay while I’m gone? You can handle the extra classes I gave you?”
I nodded, “I wouldn’t have said yes if I couldn’t.”
“I know. And I trust you, Charlotte. I don’t say it enough but you have more talent than is fair to be in your position in life,” she said, her smile faltering a little.
I shrugged, “Being poor isn’t so bad. I have more than most.” And it was true. My parents and I lived in a tiny home. I didn’t have my own laptop or my own car. But I had parents that adored me. And they believed in me, supporting my dream and helping me chase it.
And we were happy.
All those things were worth more than money because I had seen people without it and they were far more unlucky.
Felix crossed my mind and I chewed my lip. Blake even with his father gone.
“You do. Now go, get home before dark,” she said nodding down the street. She knew I wouldn’t accept a drive. I always walked home as part of staying in shape.
“I will. Enjoy your night and I’ll see you when you get back from tour,” I grinned.
“I’ve got to go home and finish the panels on the roof before I leave so I don’t know about enjoying it but make sure you do. Go out, find a nice boy, get fucked at every angle until you feel like you’ve just had a dance class,” she winked.
I laughed and she walked away, pulling her sunglasses down on her head, going to her jeep with a surfboard on it. She did everything that woman.
I smiled, put my earpiece in then started walking the few blocks home. It had only been a few minutes when my phone buzzed.
I looked down at it, ignoring the people walking passed. I turned to Hellfire’s new album, Hot As Hell, and pressed shuffle.
Another buzz.
I checked the messages and paused midstep.
It was a voice message from the very person I had just been thinking about.
Blake Williams.
I swallowed hard and pressed play.
‘Hey, Sweet Girl. I’m back home for a few days before the tour starts. Mom is excited to see me and you know I love her but I was thinking about you and how long its been since we caught up. Want to come over tonight? Mom’s cooking lasagne- she still thinks it’s my favorite.’
I blew out a breath, my body suddenly on fire. Did I want to catch up? Holy hell I wanted to do more than that.
His music started playing in my ear, Atlas’ annoyingly perfect rock voice full of husk and baritone backed up by the others. It made the heat inside me worse.
I messaged him back, ’I’ll see you soon.’
It was a simple message but I knew he’d know what I meant. I wanted to catch up in every way.
I licked my lips and walked home faster.
Not because I wanted to see my parents. Not because I wanted to have lasagna with his Mom.
But because I remembered what it felt like to be with Blake Williams and now that he had me craving it, the last few blocks before home seemed impossibly long.
So I started running.
