"Alright, get outta here!"

Jubilant instructor Sherry Drift always dismissed her classes in such an off putting way, but to anyone who studied under her, they knew that she said it with fondness. A collective sigh of relief was heard through the room as the girls and guys of the class finally relaxed and started unraveling their shoes. Secluded from the main group of uptight blondes and brunettes sat a raven headed woman and her ginger best friend against the wall.

The man had nothing by him except a small string bag that held his shoes, whereas the woman had an entire duffle full of anything from shoes, to clothes, to even bandages. "Nicky, do you have any cream?" The red head asked, making the raven head sigh heavily in exasperation. "For the last time Jay, you need to start buying your own." Nicolette scolded her friend as she stretched to cool down her muscles, nodding her head to her bag in consent. Jay rolled his brown eyes and rifles through Nicolettes bag.

"Why would I, when you're always over prepared?" He teased, popping open the cap of her Arnica with a satisfying click. "Watch, one day I'll just coincidentally forget to bring my bag." Nicolette retorted, starting to pull off her ballet shoes. She exhaled in relief as her right foot hit fresh air, the constricting feeling of the stiff slipper leaving her skin. "Ha!" Jay rolled his eyes as he rubbed cream into his skin. "You'll self destruct before you even think of not being prepared."

"Hey, it's a better character flaw than, say, smoking." Nicolette pulled off her other shoe and analyzed her feet while Jay placed his hand on his chest, looking at her with false betrayal. "I'll have you know, it's—"
"'Because of my anxiety'", Nicolette and Jay chorused, the former saying the phrase like it was drilled into her head, while Jay said it with defensiveness. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it." Nicolette sniped bitterly, her voice rising slightly.

"Can we not get into this right now?" Jay sighed, lowering his voice so as not to attract more attention from the stragglers in the room. The pair already got weird looks because they isolated themselves, they didn't need their "classmates" to overhear one of their overused arguments. Nicolette sighed and forcefully threw her ballet shoes into her duffel bag and grabbing her sketchers. "If not now, then when?" She hissed in response, refusing to look Jay in his eyes as he stood up. He offered her his hand, which she took despite her annoyance at the man.

"When you're not projecting on me anymore. I know you're unhappy. But don't let that cloud what you think of me."  This is one of the many reasons Nicolette was grateful to have Jay in her life: he was never hesitant to call her out on her bullshit. "Yeah yeah. You never want me to confront you about this." Nicolette grumbled, but smiled up at Jay anyways. She knew that her best friend was handsome, with a scruffy red goatee and a soft head of hair. He had a jawline for days, and deep brown eyes, so she was surprised he was still single. It's not like he couldn't get anyone just by willing it, after all he was lean and attractive. Jay smiled widely, his acceptably white smile shining down at Nicolette from his six foot height. "I still say you would change your mind if you just tried it." He shrugged, earning a shove from Nicolette.

"Hey hey! Don't peer pressure me! I'm perfectly fine with my healthy lungs, mister." Nicolette pointed at his face with squinted eyes, smirking under her scowl. The duo limped out of the studio to their cars, wincing the entire way. "God, you'd think it'd get easier." Nicolette said bitterly, laying over the hood of her car in pain. Her feet constantly felt like she had spent the whole night dancing in stiletto heels. Jay laughed moodily in agreement. "Doesn't feel like it, at least. Don't forget to ice later, I know how much you like to double up." Jay reminded as he fell into his driver seat. Nicolette waved at him as he pulled out of his parking spot and left the property, leaving the woman on her own. She sighed and closed her eyes, the exhaustion she was concealing flooding her veins. It seemed to stem from her feet, but that was expected.

The woman soaked up every ray of sunshine she could in the summer heat, knowing the second she made it home she would be stuck behind a computer while she caught up on work. Nicolette loved her job, she just hated how much of an introvert it made her; she blamed her work for her pale complexion. She also loved ballet, using it as an escape, but she felt unsatisfied and stuck as a dancer. After all, no one and certainly no agency would truly accept a 5'8, black haired dancer. "Too tall" or "too intense", they deemed her. She was sick of it, having to hide who she was just to do what she thought she liked.

That's it. Nicolette decided. I'm tired of pretending. If she couldn't fit the mold of the perfect ballerina like she had been trying to do all her life, she would remake the mold into her image. Gone away with the powder pink tule, in with the dark red silk. She would use her work as a graphic designer to make her own costumes, to form the image of herself the way she always imagined. Yet, reality came crashing down as always as the heat from the metal hood of her car burned into her skin. Nicolette barely had enough money to feed herself, let alone create a new branch of ballet for herself. She didn't want to choose, but she didn't want to conform much longer.

"Miss? Are you okay?" A husky voice washed over her senses as she snapped out of her daydream of gothic twirling. It was then Nicolette realized she couldn't feel her body, she was numb. Her head was spinning, and the sun was significantly higher in the sky than it was the last time she checked. "Huh? I don't feel too good." She mumbled to herself hoarsely, feeling tentative, cold hands lay themselves on her exposed back. Her leotard from practice and a pair of pajama shorts was all she was wearing; Nicolette felt a little exposed. "What was that?"

She pushed herself up on shaky limbs, seeing a pair of black skinny jeans in her peripheral. "I'm fine, thank you." She managed to croak out, her throat on fire as she spoke. The mystery man responded with concern lacing his voice, "Are you sure? You look a little flushed." Nicolette slid off her hood and waved the man off, her glazed over eyes focusing on her mangled feet as her world spun. "I'm positive—" she tried to wave the stranger off and thank him for his concern, but her body had other ideas.

Nicolette hadn't eaten since the night before, and now she had spent the last five or so hours under the sweltering Arizona sun. Her body couldn't handle the stress of her poor decisions or her workout, collapsing inward as her knees failed her and her eyes fluttered closed. She pitched forward, rag doll limp as the stranger scrambled to catch her. His arms caught hers under her armpits, and he pulled her up so he could rest her weight on his chest, only to find she weighed as much as a feather.

"I didn't sign up for this." He mumbled, slipping one hand under the woman's legs and the other maneuvering behind her shoulder blades. "Now I look hella creepy. Wrong place, wrong time, I can see the report now." He said pessimistically to himself as he looked around with the woman in his arms. The man doesn't know this particular town, and could only assume that by walking down his original route he would at least find someone who could help.

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