Just Like a Movie by Wallows

And now it's real, just like a movie, and now I see, you see right through me.

I'm stretching backstage for the annual Christmas Eve showcase, broadcasted live with an audience filled with celebrities and dancers. The school board only chose four of their most talented dancers each year to perform a solo and then a group number together. They almost never choose the same person twice, but this is my second year of being chosen so I guess I'm doing something right. It's me, a junior and two seniors, all of which I had never met before.

My solo this year is ballet, I know I wouldn't have even touched this kind of choreography last year because of how complex it is but over the past year I've got so much better and stronger.

I step onstage and wait for my music to start, remaining in character the whole time. 

The steps all feel like muscle memory at this point with how much I've practised. The burning stage lights don't even faze me as I dance every step as I know.

I half expect my dance teachers voices to start congratulating me like every other time I rehearse, instead the entire audience roars and screams for me. I snap out of my trance and finally take it all in, squealing with glee on the inside but remaining in character on the outside as I curtsey and walk off stage.

The four of us get ready for our group number. It's a chair-ography routine which I'm slightly more nervous for because I don't have much experience doing the whole 'sexy' thing. 

I'm wearing what is basically just a black set of underwear, fishnet tights and the highest heels I've ever worn. Accompanied by red lipstick and bouncy curls.

I drag my chair on stage like choreographed, all of us taking our places on our own chair and starting the dance. 

Immediately I can tell something is wrong. It takes me a moment to determine what but the second I realize, panic floods all my senses. Someone's touched my chair.

It's not necessarily an issue if someone's found it and sat on it or played around with it, the issue is that it's broken. One leg is slightly loose, I don't quite know how long it'll last but I've already started planning what I'll do if it breaks. Depending on how bad it is I'll hold it and do an aerial to get it off stage then improvise without a chair so it isn't a hazard for the other girls.

I find myself fearing my life as I step atop the chair which I can feel wobbling beneath me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

In time with everyone else I do the high kick, staying as strong as I can so the audience can't see how wobbly this chair is.

We all start the cartwheel move over the back of the chair, the second my feet leave the chair I know whats about to happen.

In just a split second the chair completely buckles and collapses beneath me. In slow motion I fall onto the ground, landing right on my back. 

Ringing. That's all I hear. The sound of silence is blaring loud. I feel numb. I can only see white. My chest rises and falls for that one moment. The numbness quickly fades and I feel like crying at the sharp pain in my back.

The ringing seises and all I can hear is the gasps and squeals of audience members. I roll onto my stomach with all my strength, looking to the audience, only to see all my teachers trying to signal the technicians to shut the curtains, turn the lights and music off and help me. I also notice a blond figure risen out his seat with fear, staring me down intensely.

I have to get up. Get up Paris.

I push myself to my feet in a daze and pick up immediately where the choreography is at the moment. The three other girls on stage make a short eye contact with me and I quickly silently inform them to keep going.

As I keep dancing the audience screams for me. Without a chair I continue the choreography and ignore the shattering ache in my back. Thankfully for the last half of the choreography we meet in the centre without the chairs and continue dancing on our own. 

The second the song ends I let myself breathe, the curtains close and immediately everyone crowds around me to see if I'm okay.

The curtains spread and all my teachers swarm in, informing me they're escorting me out the front exit for a faster getaway but it means going through the audience. They congratulate me for continuing despite my injury and tell me my solo was the best it's ever been. They also assure me whoever messed with my chair, accident or not, will be severely punished. 

Not that I'm listening to a word they say as I split the curtains and wince as I walk through with my teachers helping me.

The cameras are off so it's not being broadcasted however I notice that the entire audience remains seated. My jazz teacher informs me the audience has been asked to remain seated until I get out so there aren't crowds, which isn't embarrassing at all.

I notice some familiar faces in the crowds as I walk through, all gently smiling and asking if i'm okay.

Then walking towards me at the end of the isle is that blonde haired guy from earlier, only now I can make put his face. 

The second my eyes find him I run straight for him with a happy smile on my face despite the pain in my back.

Grayson's arms dart straight around me and he lifts me off the ground. I swear I've never hugged someone so tight before, holding onto him for dear life.

"You came!" I smile against his neck. "How could I miss it?" He replies with a laugh.

"Are you okay?" He whispers against my hair, squeezing me tight. "I'm okay." I say briefly.

"I love you." Grayson reminds me once again. It's been months of hearing those words glitched through a ten pixel video chat, to hear it said in person is honestly the best sound.

"I love you too." I groan against his neck.

"That looked bad, I'm gonna drive you to the ER." He informs me, taking my hand and starting to walk me out the building.

"The ER on Christmas Eve?" I whine. "I don't care where I am, I'm just glad to be with you." He leans down and kisses the top of my head.

"You look so different." He informs me, caring half my weight with my arm over his shoulder and his around my waist.

"So do you. You got a haircut, it looks so much softer. That's adorable." I smirk, fluffing up his new haircut. His jaw also looks sharper, if thats even possible. 

"No you've changed so much. You're like.. strong?" He laughs gently, squeezing my bicep playfully. I've not exactly got huge biceps like him but theres a clear difference to before, my stomach also has soft ab lines. Not to mention the fact I've got so much skinnier from all the exercise. My hairs a little longer and healthier. My butt and boobs are a little bigger. 

"Stronger than you?" I tease. "Don't get ahead of yourself." He grins.

We head outside, paparazzi attacking us from all sides. 

"Are you okay Paris? We saw what happened." They tell me. "Thank you for your concern. I should be okay." I smile politely like I'm trained to.

"How are you spending Christmas?" Someone else asks.

"We're travelling back to Texas to spend the holidays with our family." Grayson answers.

"How did you guys spend your shared birthday week together back in August?"

We both immediately tense up at that question, knowing how bad it would seem if we told them we didn't even spend our birthdays together. Because telling the world that as of Christmas last year we've seen each other a total of two days would likely make them think something was wrong.

"We spent some private time with family." Grayson lies briefly, helping me into the uber and sitting beside me in the back.

When we arrive at the ER, Grayson signs me in and sits down beside me in the waiting room. Our fingers intwined and my head on his shoulder as we people watch all the drunk people filtering in with bleeding noses and gashed heads.

Sitting here in front of drunk assholes in a skimpy little costume with fishnets is uncomfortable, but the second Grayson realized he passed me his suit jacket, keeping me warm. Eyes still remain on me though.

The eerily silent waiting room stays the same for hours, finally my name is called and Grayson helps me through the doors and down the empty corridor.

"What time is it?" I ask him, "10pm." He informs me. "Three hours waiting?" I bulge my eyes in shock at how quickly time went by.

We reach the doctor's room that we were sent to and step inside. "Paris Rooney?" He asks, reading from his clipboard. I nod and the lady on the computer behind him types in some notes.

"And it's your back you're having trouble with?" Grayson helps me up onto the doctor's bed as instructed by the lady on the computer, taking a seat across the small room.

"How did this injury occur?" He asks.

"I was dancing and I did a cartwheel of a chair and it broke." I explain briefly, knowing damn well he already knows everything because his notes tell him that. 

"Okay. Can I ask for your date of birth, age and full name?" He asks.

"29th of August 2004, 18, Paris Riley Rooney." I list, the computer lady ferociously types up all my answers.

"Now place of birth and where you're currently located." 

"I was born in Connecticut. I'm legally listed to be living in Texas. But for college purposes I'm living here in Massachusetts." I explain.

"Okay, I'm going to start out with a physical examination on your back to determine if an X-ray will be necessary." He informs me.

I'm instructed to remove all clothing from my neck to my hips. Unfortunately for me I'm still wearing the underwear costume and fishnets. Grayson helps me unzip the back of this barely bra costumer thing, leaving me in fishnets and underwear looking like I'm about to give someone a lap dance.

"Lay down on your stomach." The doctor instructs, pretending to check the notes to spare me my decency. Grayson looks away as well until I'm laying on my stomach.

The gloved hands begin pressing down on my back firmly until I let out a gasp in pain. 

"Lower back." He calls over to the lady who continues typing.

"I'm feeling a lot of knots, but I'm guessing thats unrelated." The doctor adds.

"What do you think caused that?" Grayson asks. I'm glad he's here because I probably would have been too awkward to ask that.

"A number of reasons. It could be muscle overuse, stress, lack of sleep, or just a built up combination of those things." He explains calmly, still pressing down.

"Severe bruising." He tells the lady.

"Well we've got good news and not so good news. For starters, your back has a small muscle sprain, should heal up in about two weeks. All you can do is rest as much as you can and ice it constantly. Now the not so good news is those knots are pretty bad, they go away pretty easy with things like massages and acupuncture. So you can go home for now but we want you to book into a chiropractic session and see if that helps with the knots." He explains.

I nod and slide off the table, Grayson helping me redress as he nods and asks questions.

Grayson has his arm wrapped around me as we walk out the hospital, his jacket laying over my shoulders as he helps me into the uber.

(a/n. I feel like this whole act is gonna seem so wild and sometimes unrealistic but I swear it's like all completely planned out and the structure makes sense when you get to the end — thats what I think anyway)