The warm glow of excitement from the audition hadn't faded entirely as I stepped into the studio later that afternoon for my teaching session. The familiar scent of polished wood and rosin greeted me, grounding me as the echoes of tiny, giggling voices reached my ears. The kids were already in their ballet slippers, buzzing with energy and chasing each other around the room.

I set my bag down and clapped my hands, smiling as their little faces turned toward me, their excitement bubbling over like soda fizz.

"All right, everyone!" I called, walking to the center of the room. "Let's get started."

The children scurried to their spots, their bright eyes wide with anticipation. Jessie, who always needed a second reminder to settle down, was the last to plop onto the floor, grinning up at me.

"I have some exciting news for all of you," I began, clasping my hands together. "We're all going to work on The Nutcracker!"

The room erupted into cheers and squeals. Jessie bounced up and down, her ponytail flying. "Really? We're gonna be in the big show?"

"Really," I said, laughing at her enthusiasm. "You'll be part of one of my favorite scenes—the Polichinelles."

"Poli... what?" asked Lily, her nose scrunching adorably as she tried to repeat the unfamiliar word.

"The Polichinelles," I explained, kneeling to their level. "They're a group of playful children who hide under Mother Ginger's big, magical skirt. When the music starts, you all come running out and dance together on stage."

The kids gasped in unison, their imaginations clearly running wild.

"A magical skirt?" Jessie asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes! It's a really big skirt, almost as tall as me," I said, spreading my arms wide for emphasis. "And it's one of the most fun parts of the show because you get to be silly, playful, and full of energy."

I clapped my hands again, signaling the start of practice. "Now, let's learn some of the steps for your big debut! Everyone up!"

The kids scrambled to their feet, giggling and chattering as they formed a loose line. I moved to the front of the room, where the speakers were set up, and cued the playful, bouncy music that accompanied the Polichinelles' scene.

"Okay," I said, demonstrating a small, exaggerated skip. "This is how you'll come out from under the skirt. Big, happy skips like this. Everyone try it!"

The kids followed along, their little legs kicking high as they skipped across the room. Some were more coordinated than others, but the joy on their faces made it impossible not to smile.

"Perfect!" I said, clapping as they reached the other side of the studio. "Now, let's add some twirls. Like this." I spun in place, my skirt flaring around me, and the kids immediately mimicked the motion, their laughter echoing in the space.

We spent the next hour learning and practicing the playful choreography. The skips turned into gallops, the twirls became more confident, and the room buzzed with energy as the children embraced the role of the Polichinelles.

By the time the session ended, the kids were red-faced and breathless, but their excitement hadn't waned. Jessie tugged on my sleeve as I handed out water bottles. "Miss Amber, are we gonna wear costumes?"

"Yes, Jessie," I said with a laugh. "You'll all get special costumes for the show. But for now, we have to focus on the dancing."

"What about the skirt?" Lily asked, her tiny voice filled with wonder. "Will we see it soon?"

"Not yet," I said, crouching to her level. "But I promise, when you see it, it'll be worth the wait."

The kids chattered among themselves as they gathered their things, their imaginations clearly running wild with visions of magical skirts and stage lights. I watched them go, their energy leaving a buzz in the room even after they were gone.

As the studio emptied out, I sank onto one of the benches, pulling off my pointe shoes and letting out a deep breath. The day had been long, but seeing the kids' excitement made every moment worth it. The Polichinelles were going to be a highlight of the show—I could feel it.

And if the kids were this excited now, I could only imagine what the big performance would bring.

Later that evening, the exhaustion from the day began to settle into my muscles. Back at the dorm, I had just finished showering and slipped into my coziest pair of pajamas—soft, checkered shorts and an oversized sweatshirt—when my phone buzzed on the desk.

Curious, I padded over and picked it up. The screen lit up with a message from Celeste, one of my literature classmates.

Celeste: Hey Amber! We're all going to karaoke tonight. Me, Kyle, Wes, and maybe a few others. Wanna join? 👀

I blinked at the message, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Karaoke? The idea was both exciting and nerve-wracking. On one hand, it had been ages since I'd gone out for something fun. On the other hand... singing in front of people?

Still, the thought of hanging out with the group made me smile. Despite our shared teasing and occasional chaos during class, I had grown to like them more than I'd expected. Plus, a night out sounded far better than staying in and overthinking every detail of the audition.

Me: Sounds fun! What time? 🎤

Celeste: 8:30. Meet us at Luna's Lounge! Bring Izzy if she's down.

I glanced at the clock—7:15. Just enough time to get ready.

I stepped out of my room and into the common area, where Isabella was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She was wearing one of her oversized T-shirts and fuzzy socks, looking as relaxed as ever.

"Hey, Izzy," I said, flopping onto the couch beside her. "Want to go to karaoke with me tonight? The lit group invited me."

"Karaoke?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "Like... singing in public?"

"Yes," I said, nudging her with my elbow. "You'll love it."

"Hmm," she said, pretending to think. "Does Blake sing?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know, but Kyle will probably be there. You can ask."

Her blue eyes lit up instantly. "Say no more. I'm in."

I laughed, shaking my head as she bounded off the couch and into her room. "We leave in an hour!" I called after her.

After rummaging through my closet, I decided on a simple but put-together outfit: a sleek black sleeveless top that hugged my figure perfectly, paired with a cream-colored mini skirt that added a soft contrast. I grabbed my black leather bag for a finishing touch and slid into my favorite knee-high black boots. The outfit was casual yet confident—perfect for a night of karaoke.

I gave my reflection a final once-over, smoothing out the hem of the skirt and fixing the stray strands of my straight black hair. The simplicity of the outfit felt like me, but it still had a little extra something. I couldn't help but smile.

Stepping back into the common room, I found Isabella waiting with her usual flair, her blonde waves perfectly framing her face and her chic blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans. Her eyes widened the second she saw me.

"Amber!" she exclaimed, grinning. "Look at you. All legs and confidence."

"Please," I scoffed, feeling heat creep up my cheeks. "It's just a skirt."

"It's a moment," Izzy said dramatically, spinning her finger toward me. "Bryan won't know what hit him."

I groaned. "Why are you even bringing him up? He's not going to be there."

"I know," she teased with a sly smile. "But you can't blame a girl for stirring the pot. Now, let's go. Blake—and karaoke greatness—awaits."

With that, we grabbed our bags and headed out the door, the crisp night air already humming with the promise of music, laughter, and maybe even a little chaos.

The booth was tucked into a corner, with a sliding door left slightly ajar. Inside, colorful lights glowed softly around the edges of the room, and the couches lining the walls looked ridiculously comfortable.

The night air was cool and crisp as Isabella and I stepped into Luna's Lounge, the karaoke bar Celeste had mentioned. From the outside, the place looked like any other casual hangout spot, but the hum of music and bursts of laughter spilling through the entrance told me we were in for something far livelier.

Inside, the dim lighting, neon accents, and the faint scent of popcorn gave the place an almost cozy vibe. A distant pop song—sung very, very off-key—drifted down the hall, punctuated by cheers and laughter from another room.

"Private booths," Isabella whispered, her eyes wide with excitement as she spun to face me. "This is going to be so good."

"You're too excited about this," I said, though I couldn't stop a small smile from tugging at my lips. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

Before I could say anything else, Celeste appeared, practically beaming as she waved us over. "Amber! Izzy! You're here! Come on, the group's waiting. I snagged us the best booth."

As soon as we stepped in, the group turned to greet us. Kyle, slouched on the couch with his usual confident smirk, waved lazily. Wes, perched at the edge of the table fiddling with the karaoke controls, flashed a quick smile. And then, of course, there was Blake, sitting back casually with his arm draped over the back of the couch.

Blake's presence threw Isabella into hyperdrive. "Hi!" she practically chirped, plopping into the seat beside him so fast I was surprised her hair didn't whip around her face.

"Hey, glad you guys made it," Blake said, his easygoing smile firmly in place. He looked as annoyingly perfect as always—dark blond hair falling just slightly into his eyes, his green hoodie loose and comfortable. "You sing, Amber?"

"Not a chance," I muttered, sliding into the spot furthest from the karaoke mic. "I'm just here for moral support."

"You'll change your mind," Celeste teased, nudging me with her elbow before hopping onto the other couch. "We're taking turns, and no one gets out of it. That's the rule."

I groaned inwardly but plastered a polite smile onto my face. This would be fine. I could sit, sip a soda, and let everyone else humiliate themselves. That was the plan.

But then the universe decided it wasn't done with me.

The door to the booth slid open again, and someone stepped in. I didn't have to look to know who it was—the shift in energy was enough. Bryan.

He stepped into the booth with that same casual confidence that made my skin heat and crawl at the same time. His black T-shirt fit a little too well, hugging the broad planes of his chest and shoulders, while his usual tattoos—dark swirls of ink twisting down his forearm—seemed to stand out more under the glow of the neon lights. His hair was damp, strands falling lazily over his forehead as if he'd just run his fingers through it after washing his face. And as always, that insufferable smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Miss me?" he drawled, his voice low and smooth, his dark eyes sweeping over the room before they landed on me. His gaze lingered just a second too long, making my skin prickle as I quickly looked away.

"What are you doing here?" I muttered, trying to keep my voice calm.

Bryan tilted his head, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Didn't know karaoke was invite-only, Amber."

I bit my lip to keep from snapping back, forcing my attention on anything but him—Blake's drink, the flashing karaoke screen, the worn edge of the cushion.

But when I stole another glance, Bryan was lowering himself into the couch—right next to me. He sprawled out like he owned the space, his long legs stretched out as he draped one arm along the back of the cushions. The faint scent of his soap—something sharp and clean—invaded my senses, and I hated how aware I was of him.

I shifted slightly away, gripping my skirt as if that could ground me. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not tonight," he said lazily, turning his head just enough for his eyes to catch mine again. Under the soft neon glow, they seemed darker than usual, sharp and unreadable. "You don't seem happy to see me."

"Imagine that," I muttered under my breath, my cheeks heating when his lips twitched into an infuriating grin.

Before I could say anything else, Celeste grabbed the microphone and spun toward me, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "All right, we're starting strong! Amber, you're up first."

My stomach dropped. "What? No."

"Yes!" Isabella chimed in from her spot beside Blake, already clapping in excitement. "You can't come to karaoke and not sing. It's the rules."

"Who made those rules?" I asked desperately.

Celeste grinned. "Me. Now pick a song, or I'll pick one for you."

I turned to glare at Isabella, but she only offered me an innocent smile. Kyle and Wes were already chanting my name in unison, their teasing laughter filling the room.

And then, of course, Bryan had to add his voice to the mix. "What's wrong, Ballerina? Scared of the mic?"

I turned sharply toward him, my fists curling slightly in my lap. "I'm not scared."

"Prove it," he said, his tone smooth and mocking. "Show us what you've got."

The room erupted into cheers as Celeste thrust the mic into my hand. There was no getting out of this. My cheeks flamed as I stood up, clutching the mic like it was some kind of lifeline.

The energy in the room was buzzing after Celeste thrust the mic into my hand, and my stomach twisted with equal parts dread and stubborn determination. I wasn't about to back out now—not with Bryan watching me like he was waiting for me to crumble.