Guilty as sin by Taylor Swift

What if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind.

43 days later.

This is the moment I've been waiting for. MAD's annual showcase. Four dancers selected throughout the whole school, me somehow being one of those four. 

I just wish Grayson could be here. Ever since a couple days after Avery's party when she announced she was donating half her inheritance I haven't seen him. It's been 40 days. I miss him so much. I moved back to Massachusetts for school and he decided to drop out of Harvard to permanently work with Avery at The Hannah Same Backward As Forward Foundation. From what Avery's been telling me, he's doing really well. He's also working INSERT JOB HERE.

"15 minute call." Someone yells inside my door. My hands are trembling as I apply some extra bronzer to my cheeks. If I don't make my makeup bold the stage lights will wash me out.

Bailey Campbell was up first. She danced a fast tap routine, her moves were all exact and perfect. She was a senior, she has been chosen every single year for this show.

Michael Chen was after her with a hip hop number. He's really good at that style, always has the correct attitude and facial expressions to make it work.

My friend Rachel Jones was next, she's dancing right now. When Rachel dances, people watch. I want that. She's the best dancer I know. She's doing a ballet solo, which means she'll be the best in the show.

Safe to say that for me to be going last is torture, having all of those older more talented dancers coming before me and setting the bar so high.

I'm doing an emotional contemporary dance, it's what I do best but i'm still shaking with fear. The audience is packed, the theatre we are performing in is one of the largest in the world. A capacity of 10,000 audience members. Not to mention the agents, celebrities and news teams watching. It's being broadcasted live to national television. Anyone who is anyone is watching, the biggest celebrities sit in their velvet crafted chairs. Wearing the most elegant of the gowns, walking the red carpet and being interviewed, the after parties are world renowned, everyone gets drunk and has outfit changes and it's all no paparazzi allowed. It seems silly, making such a huge deal over four kids dancing. But our school is the biggest dance school in the country, and they have hand selected 4 of their best dancers to represent all of us. I used to watch this live from my couch back in Connecticut, Mom would sit with me.

If I go out there and mess up even one bit i've been warned by my teachers that my position in the school will be 'ripped from me before I can say plié' which is honestly ridiculous because the pupils not in this show didn't get that threat. I suppose they aren't performing in front of millions of people though.

A soft knocking comes to my door and I mumble a quick, "Come in."

The door creaks open but I keep my eyes planted on the mirror before me as I put on my lipstick.

Grayson enters with a small smile. My eyes widen at the sight of him, my tense body instantly relaxing.

I bounce out my chair and run straight for him, he wraps his arms around me tightly, lifting me off the ground.

"You came." I speak against his chest. The cuts on his face barely noticeable now, calming down and his incredible face looking much clearer. His sprained ankle isn't wearing it's brace anymore but he's still limping a little. I haven't seen him in over a month.

"We all did." Xander replies, alerting my attention to all my friends rallying outside my dressing room door.

My face lights up at the sight of them all. Libby, Nash, Max, Xander, Avery, Jameson, Thea, Rebecca and Grayson.

I invite them all inside, still rushing around them to get myself ready.

I never even considered that my sister is now classed as a celebrity and was cordially invited to this event, just like the boys. The others came as their plus ones.

I know they can notice the way my hands are shaking so vigorously when I touch up my mascara.

"You okay?" Grayson asks me gently in the mirror, his voice sounding like an assurance.

"Mhm." I mutter, Grayson places his two cold hands on my bare shoulders.

I'm wearing a tiny cropped vest and lingerie costume that looks like just underwear.

"You're gonna do great." He tells me solemnly. "Yeah." I nod briefly. I don't believe the words I speak.

"Put that down. Take a minute and just breathe." He tells me, taking the makeup brush out my hand.

"Gray.." I sigh.

He kneels down beside me, turning my chair to face him. He places his two hands on my cheeks.

"You are the best dancer in this school. There was a reason you were chosen for this. It's not because you're Avery's sister. It's not because they needed an extra body. It's not because they felt bad. It's because watching you dance is like watching a dolphin swim through the brightest ocean. When you're up on that stage you are majestic, you look gorgeous. And off stage." He winks, getting a small laugh out of me. "You are the only one on that stage I want to watch. And it kills me that you'll never be able to witness watching yourself live. Because every time you dance it makes me feel like I'm going to cry, or throw up or kiss you. And so what if you mess up? What's the worst thing that'll happen?" He speaks genuinely.

"They'll kick me out of the school." I scoff through some black mascara tears that are slipping down my cheeks. He quickly catches them with his thumbs. "Then they will be kicking Picasso out of art school." Grayson smiles softly.

I choke a laugh and hit his arm gently.

"You've got it, P." He finishes, placing a kiss on my forehead.

Then he takes my makeup brushes and starts trying to fix where my tears were. All the girls laugh and Avery steps forward, taking the makeup from his hand and shooing him away.

Then my big sister kneels before me and begins applying some concealer beneath my eyes and blending it in, then topping up the mascara for me.

Meanwhile Libby works to curl the back of my head that i've apparently missed.

"Ten minute call." Someone calls inside my door. I jump to my feet and get ready.

"Good luck Pear." Libby and Avery hug me from either side then head out.

There are echoes of 'goodbye's and 'good luck's as my friends leave, blowing me kisses and squeezing my shoulders.

Grayson takes my hand and gives it a huge kiss. "I don't even need to wish you luck. You're gonna impress me no matter what." He winks and then heads out.

I'm standing beside the stage, watching the audience start to refill after the intermission between Rachel's dance and mine. Rachel jogs towards me, sweating and smiling giddily. 

"It's an incredible crowd. You're gonna do great. Just remember the basics." She assures me with a wink. "Break a leg." She calls as she steps away towards her dressing room.

The lights dim and everyone applauds in anticipation of my performance. I walk on slowly as rehearsed and take my place centre stage facing the audience. The stage lights come aglow and I'm met with professional cameras on either side of the stage, a packed audience. 

I get some applause as I wait for my music to begin. 

The second my music starts I focus on making all the steps as perfect as rehearsals, making sure to act it out instead of just dancing it.

A few tricks land me with loud applause. I slide effortlessly into the splits and roll forward onto my chin, pushing all my strength to my arms and lifting my whole body weight up until i'm in a handstand then kicking off into a cartwheel. 

I do a backwards one handed walkover and continue dancing whilst the audience cheer. 

When i'm at the front left of the stage almost at the edge I start my fouettés. This is probably the hardest move in my whole dance, they added 20 fouettés because they knew I could do it, but my teacher told me I was too cocky with it once I got used to it so she had be do it at the edge of the stage to scare the audience. 

I hear gasps from all over, trying to block out noise other than my music and keep dancing. Once I finish my spins I grand jeté across the edge of the stage to the centre, going on pointe despite not having pointe shoes on, curly my body into an arch to follow through with my back aerial despite not having the space to get a run up.

My teachers clearly took all my best tricks and compiled it with the most difficult moves to make me even more terrified. 

I finally go into my final move and finish facing the audience strongly, balancing on one foot as rehearsed. 

My chest heaves up and down but I don't falter, keeping my character strong until the very last beat of the song. 

The whole audience roar with applauds, screaming and getting to their feet to praise me. I'm almost deafened by the mere volume of it. 

I have to keep my leg balanced here until the lights go out, despite how much it trembles and every part of me aches, I keep it up. Extended right up to my head.

The lights go down but the applause doesn't die. I run off stage and immediately start to undress in the left wings, I have a quick change into our group costume for the finale, the four of us doing a jazz number.

We all wear flapper dresses of different colors with fishnets, except Michael who is wearing a 1920's style costume with a hat. I'm in bright pink, Rachel's in bright blue, Bailey's wearing a bright yellow and Michael is wearing a bright green.

The others stagger on at different times as planned so it doesn't look off if I have to come on late. Thankfully I get read just as the beat of the song starts, and walk on in perfectly planned time.

We walk out in the style choreographed, all dancing in perfect time and getting everyone to their feet to dance at their seats. 

When the music comes to an end we hit our final positions, of course using jazz hands. 

The audience goes crazy and one by one we step forward for a solo applause. Michael takes his applause first, dropping the character we're all playing and taking a sincere bow.

Next to bow is Bailey, she looks humble as she takes her curtsey. Rachel takes hers next, getting a slightly louder applause than the others. Finally I step forward, maybe i'm delusional but when I curtsey the applause the others got multiplies, screaming louder.

I have a huge grin on my face and I don't care enough to hide it. We take one final bow together and the curtain drops. Rachel pulls me in to a huge hug, the cheering still loud from behind the thick curtain. 

My sweat is thick after 12 minutes of consecutive dancing really hard stuff in a packed theatre with bright stage lights.

Our teachers give us smiles and come towards us on stage to tell us how great we all were. Shaking each of our hands they inform us that they'll be in touch after Christmas — which is tomorrow — regarding notes they had taken but for now we can go home and celebrate knowing we were all great.

We were instructed by the team that the four of us would walk the red carpet on the way out in our costumes, when we get back to our hotels we'd have an hour to get ready before we're expected at the party. The celebrities go straight there but the four dancers enter fashionably late to get photographs.

Rachel and I meet our other roommates backstage who had watched from the wings along with other students who attack us with complements. 

The five of us part ways for the holidays, Rachel and I agreeing to meet up at the afterparty that only celebrities and the four dancers were invited to.

I grab my bags as quickly as possible, spray some deodorant and head outside. As I was told to I walk the red carpet in my glistening sweat, melted makeup and hair stuck to my forehead. 

The photographers scream my name. This is insane. Crowds of people wait behind the cameras to see me, waving signs and throwing gifts at me.

I try to focus on answering questions sensibly but close to the end of the carpet my eyes catch Grayson waiting at the end. 

He smiles proudly at me and I race towards him with a wide grin. He catches me and lifts me up, kissing all over my face before I connect our lips with a smile. Kisses are better when you're both smiling like madmen.

"You've never danced better. I'm so proud of you." He whispers, all the cameras trying to capture this moment.

"I feel like i'm on an adrenaline high!" I giggle. "You were so good. Do you need a drink?" He offers, gesturing to my sweat covered skin.

I nod out of breath as he opens my bag for me and gets my water out. 

"The cars waiting to take us back to the hotel." He informs me, kissing my forehead as he slings my bag over his shoulder and wraps an arm over my shoulder.

"Aren't you guys supposed to head straight to the party?" I question, swallowing down some water and putting the cap back on as I slide inside the car after he opened the door for me.

He fights to push through cameras to get in beside me, cameras against the windows and kids pushing past to see us.

Grayson intertwines our hands and smiles his most genuine smile.

"You were good in there." Oren complements. "Thanks, aren't you supposed to be with Avery?" I ask.

"A party full of celebrities with nobody allowed in unless they're A or B list celebrities. Highly guarded by a hundred security guards. I'm not even allowed in there. So you're my priority today." He informs me.

The whole ride to the hotel is just Grayson complementing how incredible my dancing was. When we arrived, Oren waited outside the door of our room as we got ready.

As I showered in the steamy bathroom he shaved over the sink, the only separation between my naked body and his shirtless skin is the fogged up glass.

"What you wearing?" He asks me over the sound of the hailing hot water over my trembling body, still in shock from all of this.

"Uhh... I got this dress when I was shopping with my roommate, pretty slutty. Take a look if you want." I answer honestly, arms around my warming up body as scalding water trickles down my back.

Mid shave he steps out the door and opens my suitcase, returning with the small red dress on a hanger. 

"Slutty right? Too slutty, or just enough?" I ask him, brushing a hand across the condensation to produce a window for me to see his slightly worried face.

"It's.. it's something." Grayson's eyes widen and find mine with a smirk. "I reckon 5 seconds, maybe less." He estimates thoughtfully, hanging the dress up on the door and tidying up his shave.

"5 seconds for what?" I furrow my brows.

"To take it off you at the end of the night." He meets my eyes with a wolfish grin, winking and walking out to get ready.

Grayson wore a black suit, accompanied by a bright red tie in order to match with my dress. 

My red dress barely made it to my upper thigh, the entire back being held up by the fabric wrapped around my neck from the front. The front of the dress was simply two reasonably thick but still oh so small strips of firm material pressing over my breasts just enough to hide my nipples but show off half my breasts still. My whole stomach was on reveal down to my lower hips where the skirt of the dress actually starts, and doesn't last much longer. There's not much fabric. It is a bold but definitely worthy choice based off Grayson's trailing eyes and lost expression as he takes all of me in.

I clip my chain around my neck as usual as Grayson helps me out by curling the backs of my hair, after I taught him how. He couldn't do it at first and I could tell it really got to him because the Hawthorne brothers are always good at things. But after a master class hosted by me he picked up quickly. My hair was tied in a half up half down high ponytail, my bangs sticking out. Grayson holds his breath as he sprays hair spray all over my hair.

He fixes my dress with an anxious worry. "Gray, baby you gotta relax." I coax gently with a smirk.

"Your tits are half out, P, I will not be relaxing until we're back in this room and I can take this thing off you in the privacy of this hotel room." He promises, inspecting my breasts one last time to come as much of me as he can with the dress I'm wearing.

"Worst case scenario, the dress fails me. Then you're right and I owe you a blowie." I whisper enticingly. 

"Now as truly appealing as that sounds, I would rather you just wore something more covering." He emphasises.

"You being protective is adorable, seriously, but I literally have no other options so you need to just suck it up." I smile down at him.

"You're a nightmare. But you're hot.. so fucking hot in that tiny dress." He growled, hand slipping beneath the barely there material of my dress and thumbing my nipple.

"Excuse me Mr Hawthorne? I can't help but notice your finger on my tit. I'm afraid we have places to be, and I don't have time for your fondling. But you can put those fingers elsewhere as of midnight when this party ends." I lecture firmly.

He presses his lips onto my neck with a coy grin, sucking my skin and making me gasp for air.

Then he grabs my hand as if nothing happened and drags me out of the room, both of us laughing as Oren scolds us.

We are photographed like crazy as we enter the event, all the celebrities in the room turn to face the four of us dancers as we enter, each of us with our arm candy, but mine most impressive of all.

We meet our friends at the centre of the dance floor, where we remained all night. Jumping around, drinking drinks we most certainly should not be drinking and getting achingly close to our partners. 

Grayson, Jameson, Max and I did a shots competition, seeing who could neck back the most shots before having to stop. Shame for all of us four, we're all too competitive, none of us stopping just to try and win. The whole party circled us cheered us on as I counted our 11th shot. 

"Fuck me." I hiss with watering eyes, coughing and gagging as our twelfth round is quickly poured. "Don't go on, P. I don't want you getting hurt." Grayson says with some concern, but I can tell deep down he's only saying this so he has a higher chance to win. 

"Fuck you." I growl as I throw down the next shot. 

This previous shot is too much for Max, because she raises her hands and shakes her head in surrender, letting Xander console her as we all go for our thirteenth.

"Shit, i'm seeing stars." Jameson groans, a hand on his skull. 

"You calling it?" Gray asks in pant as he struggles to keep breathing after the constant burning.

"Yeah man." Jameson shakes his head, immediately chugging water and sitting down the second he gets off the table we're standing on.

"I'm not letting you win this." I tell Grayson. "If you win i'm breaking up with you." He fires back, taking his fourteenth shot at the same time as me.

16 fucking shots in and neither of us are backing down. And just as promised, neither of us let the other win, because in perfect unison we shared a moment of urgently concerned eye contact and dove for the crash can, both of us vomiting in sync. 

"Shit, you okay?" He groans drunkly.

"Never fuckin better." I slur, kissing his neck from below him.

I spent the rest of the night drunkly dancing with friends, singing along and having the best time. I speak to hundreds of celebrities I knew about how fantastic I was today. 

But through all the crazy conversations I faced, the most important was with a woman I didn't even know.

"Excuse me, Paris Grambs?" The lady with the high posture and friendly smile tapped my shoulder.

I smiled and turned around, she gestured for me to follow her to the side, I give Grayson a quick hand squeeze to inform him I would be back soon as I follow her off. 

"I'm aware you're severally under the influence." She starts with a firm expression. "Shit, you're a cop aren't you." I stress.

"No dear, I'm no cop. What I mean is you're drunk, which i'm well aware is illegal, but is not my issue." She proceeds.

"You are drunk so I won't be able to discuss the full details at this given point, but I'd like to arrange a meeting with you in the later weeks to come. I am Layla Darcus-Walker, I'm an agent within the Royal Dancers union and i'm interested in signing you. I think I could find some wonderful opportunities with you and we could make a very good team together. Here's my card, i'll be in touch to schedule an appointment." She speaks fast, handing me her business card and slips away into the distance.

Holy shit. An agent? This could be big for me.

I immediately tell Grayson and he celebrates by dragging me out of this cramped party and kissing me right there in the street with all the cameras in the world watching. He doesn't even seem to mind the cameras watching as he grabs my ass and deepens the kiss, proceeding to look towards the cameras and smile proudly.

"That's my girl! She's my girlfriend!" He whooped, lifting me off the ground drunkly and kissing me anywhere he could get his lips. 

That night I collapsed into bed naked beside Grayson's naked body, we didn't hook up because we're both drunk out of our minds. 

"I'm so proud of you angel." He kisses all over my collarbones. It turns out at the start of the night when he kissed my neck he lined it with hickeys to make sure the whole night everyone knew I was his, not that they didn't already with his hands on my ass as we walked out. We made national news.

9pm: Paris Grambs (17) sports hickey covered neck as she debuts new boyfriend Grayson Hawthorne (19) after huge succession in globally renowned showcase

12am: Paris Grambs (17) spotted with Grayson Hawthorne (19) drunkly stumbling out of afterparty, getting touchy and steamy as the later called out "That's my girl! She's my girlfriend." Before slipping into a taxi together.

I didn't bother checking the comments, not giving a fuck what they have to say about my life.

"You know Grayson, dance has always been my future. Always leading up to this huge idea of the future. I would move to New York.. or London.. or maybe even LA and I would dance, and I would  speak out about issues that bothered me, and I would maybe get a dog or something.." I trail off, his big hands roaming my body as mine play with his blonde curls.

"My whole life has always been built around my future.. and it still is but now, you're my future. Not just dance, Gray... You." I smile certainly.

"You're my past present and future, P. You're my everything." He whispers against my neck, voice vibrating my body as we fall into a deep slummer.

(end book 3)

(a/n. Shit guys! Honestly can't believe we made it this far. I'm beyond speechless at how far this story has come. I'm grateful to every one of you who made it through the first solid 15 chapters in all their glory, because you guys are real ones for seeing past the poor dialogue, spelling and grammar. To anyone who's even considered reading this book, thank you so much. I'm most of all, just seriously proud of myself. I've never really stuck to something so dedicatedly in my whole life, I never finish projects, but for Paris I made it this far. She really is my special girl, I can write as many characters as I want but none will compare with my girl. As you may know, this book will be continuing on for a Part 4, however I warn you now that it will not follow the plotlines of the original 4th book because I simply could not figure out how to slot my characters in. So this whole plot has been created by me and me alone. The Part 4 introduction/ character analysis thingy has now been published!! Thanks so much for reading)

For those wondering what the dress looked like, heres my crappy attempt at a drawing. I'm clearly no artist because what the actual fuck are those hands and feet, but it's just to give a basic view of the dress.