Heather took a deep breath as she finished touching up her hair and makeup. Her first ballet recital of the semester was in a couple of hours, and she was a bit nervous.

"Want any comfort food?" Courtney asked her, holding out a bag of potato chips.

"No," she shook her head. "I already had dinner. Plus, I don't want to barf on stage. Imagine how humiliating that would be!"

"True."

"Especially since my dad's coming," she smiled at herself in the mirror. "He'll be so impressed with my performance that he'll tell my mom. And my mom will have nothing to insult me about."

"Who cares what your mom thinks? She's always been so rude to you."

"I know she has. But once she realizes how good I am, she'll treat me with more respect." She put on her pink lipstick. "Does this look good?" She showed her face to Courtney.

"Always! You'll be the prettiest girl at the show tonight."

"I know," she smirked with confidence.

"I'll be in the front row, of course. And if someone thinks you're bad, I'll make sure they regret ever being born."

"Courtney, you're the best."

"I know. Now let me drive you up there. I know you'll be too tired to drive back later. If I had a penny for every time you complained about your feet hurting after ballet practice, I'd be a millionaire."

"Yes, I know," Heather rolled her eyes. They got in Courtney's car and left for the recital.

"Dancers only," the security guard told Courtney sternly when she tried to go backstage with Heather.

"She's my best friend, so it's ok," Heather grabbed her hand.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way."

"I am Heather Wilson. Do you know who my dad is?!"

His eyes widened. "Oh, I am terribly sorry, Miss! Go ahead and bring whenever who want with you!"

She nodded, a proud smile on her face. She brought Courtney back with her. Fellow ballerinas stretched out and practiced their dances, using headphones to play their songs.

"Heather, what was that?!" Courtney snapped.

"Hey, I got you back here, didn't I?"

"Yes, but you didn't have to do that. I would've been fine just sitting in the audience."

"You need to see the backstage. It's incredible! I usually get ready here, but I didn't feel like sharing my space with the rest of them."

"I wouldn't either, honestly. There's no room to breathe."

"Exactly!" Heather sat her bag down and started stretching.

Courtney watched her. "How are you that flexible?"

"It comes naturally. My siblings called me a freak when I was little because I could do the splits at five years old. But they're not in my position right now. Losers."

"Are any of them coming tonight?"

"No. They all have their own things. And that's fine. I don't want them here anyway."

"I'm glad I'm an only child. Although it did get lonely."

"I WISH I was an only child. My siblings can suck it."

Courtney laughed. "I'm so excited to see you steal the show out there."

"I'm excited too." Ballet was Heather's pride and joy. She loved being the center of attention on the stage.

"I better grab my seat before any asshole takes it. I'll be watching, babe." Courtney kissed her friend on the cheek before leaving.

"Love ya!"

"You too!"

Heather finished stretching after a few minutes and took one last look at herself. I look good enough, right? My dad will be impressed. Yes. Just then, she saw her phone light up in her pocket. She picked it up and saw a text from her dad.

'Hi, Heather feather! I am so sorry, but I will not make it tonight. Something came up. Hopefully, I will be able to come next time. Love you!'

Heather let out a breath of disbelief, her face falling. Is he serious? He said this last time. And the time before. Why do I even believe this every time? Her eyes filled with tears, but she quickly sucked it up. Get it together. You're performing. Everyone out in the audience is there to see you. You're the best. Everyone else sucks. She told herself that repeatedly until it was time for the show to begin. However, building herself up and bringing others down didn't help this time. There were only so many times her heart could be stomped on before it stopped beating.

As Heather danced onstage, she noticed how many people were watching her. But she didn't care about their attention tonight. That's not what she wanted. She felt like she was trying so desperately to fill this hole in her heart. Most times, being noticed by others helped. But there were still times when she'd lock herself in the bathroom and cry. Courtney had no idea when she cried because she'd hide her tear-stained face with tons of makeup. The last thing she wanted was for others to see her cry. She always told herself that would never happen, but she didn't know if she could hold in these tears tonight.

She made it through the song. There were rounds of applause. She smiled wide, pretending she was happy. What is wrong with me? There are literal professors from other colleges here! I could get noticed and make it big somewhere better! So why don't I feel happy?!

Heather immediately dressed out of her leotard after the show and got into comfy leggings and a t-shirt. She went out to see Courtney, who had a massive grin on her face. "HEATHER! You were so amazing! That's my friend, everyone!" She hugged her.

"Thanks," she smiled, hugging back. It felt nice, but her mind was still on her father. What exactly came up? Is this some lame excuse not to come? Because I'd rather him just tell me.

"I wish I could do ballet like you! You looked so perfect up there! So graceful!"

"Well, I did practice a lot, Courtney," she smirked.

"It totally paid off! Where's your dad?"

"Um..." she fiddled with her hands nervously.

Courtney frowned. "Oh no... what happened?"

"He texted me like ten minutes before the show to tell me he couldn't make it."

"What?! Why?"

"I don't know," Heather shrugged. "He just said something came up. Which makes me think he didn't want to come."

"Then why did he even buy a ticket in the first place? That doesn't make sense."

"He's rich, Courtney. He could buy anything, and it wouldn't affect him."

"Maybe you should talk to him-"

"No," she shook her head. "No, I don't want to."

"Heather..."

"Heather!" Alejandro walked up to them. "That was fantastic. You looked stunning."

Heather's jaw dropped. "...What are you doing here?!"

"I bought a ticket, and I watched the show. I do not know how else to explain it."

"You just wanted to see me in a tight leotard, pervert."

"Maybe," he smirked.

"You're so disgusting."

"Could you please step away from us?" Courtney asked politely. "Heather is having a difficult time right now." Heather shot daggers at her.

Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel any concern. "What do you mean?"

"None of your business!" Heather retorted. Why did he come to the show? There's no way he usually comes to ballet shows. Is it because he saw me dancing that one day?! No way! Is he seriously going this far to get me to fall for him?!

"Someone didn't show up that was supposed to?"

Ugh, I hate how he can read my mind. "Maybe, maybe not. I guess you'll never know."

He sighed. "Well, whoever didn't show up missed out on a lot. You were muy Bueno, chica. And I genuinely think that."

Heather felt her cheeks heat up. She had a feeling he showed up for her, but she still thought his intentions weren't good. Even if he weren't a total player, he wouldn't want me.

Courtney noticed her friend's flushed appearance and took her hand. "Come on, Heather. Let's go. We can stop and get ice cream." Heather nodded and went with her. She couldn't help but look back at Alejandro from the corner of her eye.

Alejandro watched her go with a longing look in his eyes. Something about her struck him differently. He actually...cared about her. He knew this because he almost couldn't stand to see her sad. I've never cared about a woman besides my madre before. I must be losing too much sleep. I never fall for women. They fall for me. But Heather's...no. He shook his head. Keep your head on straight. You must beat José. You must.

**

Courtney handed Heather a strawberry ice cream cone. "Let's just forget about your dad tonight. He doesn't deserve another chance."

"Why was that jerk even there tonight?" Heather completely ignored her comment.

"...Alejandro? Who knows? He may very well be a pervert like you said."

"He saw me dancing the other week when I was practicing in one of the study rooms."

"Wow, what a creep."

"Yeah, I know. He said I was good, though. I don't know if that's another one of his fuckboy moves or..." she sighed. "Whatever."

"Heather, do you like him?"

"...What?"

"Do you like him?" Courtney asked more firmly this time.

"Yeah, right. As if! If anything, he likes ME. Who wouldn't?"

"You blushed when he complimented you tonight."

"So?! It was hot in there!"

"Heather, it's ok to like him. I just want you to be careful. You know how he is with women. Remember Bridgette, LeShawna, Katie, Sadie, and Anne Maria?"

"I don't have to be careful because I don't like him." She crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Ok then," Courtney frowned. "Just making sure."

"I'd never fall for a jerk like him." I wonder if he found another woman to trick at the recital. The very thought of him touching another woman made her furious. Not because I'm jealous, she told herself. Then again, she did kind of hate when he ignored her. Weirdly enough, she wanted him to keep chasing her.