NAOMI CONTINUED TO PONDER ON ALL THE THINGS SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO. The things that Jessica never wanted her to: what Mr Carson had said to her about grief, what Ben said to her about crying, what happened to Aspen. The thoughts seemed pressing and accompanied by a tsunami of emotions. But Jessica was a strong dam.

If Naomi sat awake at night thinking about it, she insisted on rehearsing. If she thought of it in the shower, she told her that she needed more conditioner. If Naomi Morgan spent so much as a second to dwell, Jessica reminded her of what was really important. NYC, her family and herself and Naomi knew she was right, but it didn't feel like it.

Ben's Equipment store revealed itself as the girls turned the corner. Its lights were still off and the sign read a bright 'closed' but Naomi knew he'd be there. He was always there because the store, illegally, doubled as his official place of residence. When the girls were younger they used to ask him about it but Ben had always shrugged off the fact that he lived in the back room of his Equipment store and said his job was his life, so it made sense for them to be all in one building. Years passed and Jessica and Naomi never questioned him again. Sometimes, Naomi thinks it was because they never really wanted to know the truth.

When they got there, Jessica knocked loudly on the door.

Naomi was mortified. "Why'd you do that? He's probably sleeping."

"Well, we can't wait out here all day. It's freezing," Jessica commented. Naomi was about to reply that she didn't feel cold at all when she heard something odd. "Wait. Do you hear that?"

Swiftly checking her left, then her right Jessica said shakily, "No, you're probably hearing things." And she was right. There was nothing; save for the few footsteps of the Riverside early birds and murmurs from cruising cars on the road. But then there it was again. "It sounds like," her head cocked and she turned around, "me."

Jessica rapped her knuckles against the glass window in the door again. The shop stayed quiet.

"Naomi," Jessica warned.

"That sounds just like me."

"Ignore it." She frantically pounded her fist on the door this time.

"How can I?" Naomi wasn't sure those words were ever fully vocalized but her eyes stayed glued to the road. She looked up and down the street in search for proof she wasn't hearing things when she found it. Then she was convinced that she wasn't just hearing things, she was seeing things too. Coming off of 6th street, bold and untroubled, was herself alongside Jessica.

They were both alive. And laughing. Jessica was walking without a care as she always did and Naomi continued to smile up at her with something unbearable in her eyes. Cemented into spot, Naomi could only gaze. She wasn't sure she ever saw herself smile that. In a few seconds just short of a minute Naomi realized, thanks to the clothes and the conversation, that she was watching a memory. Distant, but certainly something she remembered was playing out right across from her and regretfully, Naomi knew exactly what would happen next.

Fear that felt like haunted fingers squeezed her lips shut and shocked the hair on the back of her neck. It might have happened weeks ago, but it was all still vivid and Naomi was about to see it again. right now. Immediately she understood exactly what Mr Carson had meant.

When Ben opened the door to the slamming, he saw Naomi staring into the road. He followed her gaze. Then she turned around again, eyes wide, knuckles ready to knock. She stopped. She saw him. There were memories floating in the whites of her eyes and Ben knew exactly which ones. He watched them crowd around her irises and climb into her pupils, overcrowding her entire eye into tremors. He wasn't sure what to say, but his lips parted anyway. Ben had always hoped that Jessica was looking down at Naomi with a proud smile and wishes of many blessings. But this...this was something even angels would cry for. Naomi went to turn around again but Ben pulled her into his arms. He didn't have the words, but he didn't need them.

That day, Naomi fumbled into the Fox Performing Arts Centre, empty and alone. Her body sagged as she changed and wrapped danger around her toes. The fear had still haunted her eyes wide open and somewhere she heard Mr Carson suggest she get a full night's sleep. Then, rehearsal began, and at first, everything was ordinary. As they moved from the barre to the floor, everyone fell into their places and assumed their roles. Aspen didn't miss a chance to thrive, other dancers boringly executed their techniques, it was the same as every other day. Except for Naomi.

She spun, jumped and moved across the floor yet, she couldn't escape her own memories. It was as if they were still happening outside on the streets of Riverside. Like she was out there with them, witnessing what she'd tried to bury again and again on the dawned Riverside streets.

She wasn't sure if she was nailing all the techniques or maintaining her pointe. She jumped a little lower than normal and didn't force a smile like she usually did. For the first time in a long time, Naomi wasn't dancing. She didn't hear the music. She didn't think about the techniques. Naomi was standing on thin ice. Immobile.

*

That night, the Morgan family enjoyed each other's company around a quiet dining table. None of them, it seemed, had the energy to pretend to be happy so instead, they cut into their meats with small thin knives and avoided eye contact at all costs. Jessica was nowhere in sight.

Naomi tried not to think about what she saw on the Riverside sidewalk today. Her joints were still a little numb and she knew this time it wasn't her pointe shoes. Something was wrong with her. But she said nothing. No one ever said anything. So, Naomi delicately chewed a piece of chicken.

Mrs Morgan cleared her throat. "So," she started, "how was your day, Naomi?"

She didn't answer.

"Things went well with Mr Carson?"

It took everything in her to simply nod.

Naomi fought the idea of telling her parents what happened but the air was too thick.

"How about you, Will?" Mrs Morgan asked her son. "How was your day?"

The boy scoffed audibly and uttered a string of words under his breath.

His mother leaned forward into the empty dining table. "What was that?"

William didn't reply. In fact, he laughed.

Mr Morgan looked up now, along with everyone else, and set his phone on the table. "William, your mother is speaking to you." His voice rumbled. "Answer her."

Naomi's brother nodded, then for the first time since he sat down at the table, he lifted his head all the way up. He was smiling, cynical and raw, as he revealed a clear, dark purple swelling sealing his right eye shut. "My day was perfect, how was yours?" His smile fell and the table silenced. Naomi covered her mouth at the same time William's face changed.

None of her doubted that he was able to hide that from his family, but all of her blamed herself for it.

His bottom lip, like his father's voice, rumbled with implied strength. Mrs Morgan gulped, "Oh my god, Will."

William Morgan flew back in his chair. He stood from the table, storming around a corner in the house. Naomi and her father stood up at the same time but she went off before him. Mrs Morgan looked like she wanted to help or say something but didn't know how. She only briefly stood out of her chair and watched her children take off.

Naomi didn't look back. She trained her eyes on her brother instead, and the second he realised he was being followed he ran. Quickly Naomi picked up speed and followed him down the hallway. He bolted up the stairs, two at a time, and she charged after him. By the time she made it to the top, William was already down the hallway from her. He was opening his bedroom door. "William!" Naomi called.

He glanced over his shoulders, moisture residing in the purple of his right eye. Naomi ran over to him. His hand lashed out at the doorknob, quickly twisted it open. Naomi only barely made it by the time he threw himself in the room, pushing the door shut. But Naomi pushed back, stopping it right before the lock found the door jam. "William, stop!"

"Leave me alone!" his voice was loud, but shattered and Naomi realised he was crying.

"No, talk to me." It was hard to sound empathising when she was straining against that door. "What's wrong?"

He didn't reply, just pushed harder. But if ballet did anything to Naomi, it increased her strength. She worked her way forward and slowly began widening the gap between the door. She kept it up until there was enough space for her foot to jam the door. Then, she set it there and took a footing, pushing harder. As her success was increasing, the next three things happened so quickly, she could only react to the last.

A loud crash hit the other side. The door came flying back. A striking pain shot through Naomi's left foot. She stumbled back, halfway biting down the scream on the tip of her tongue. She quickly lifted her leg, the throbbing of it heavy in her ears when the door finally opened. Tentatively, William stood there, his tears drying. She dropped her leg and swallowed the pain like a thick pill. "Naomi, I'm so sorry. I didn't know-"

"It's okay. Let's just go inside."

She waited for him to turn around first so she could limp her way in. Shutting the door behind her, she fell back on his bed. He faced away from her, his shoulders trembling. "William," she started.

"Don't," he warned. "This family is poison. Nobody talks or laughs. We just pretend to do things that we don't mean every day. It's dysfunctional, you have to see that."

God knows what he was saying was true, but that conversation was one Naomi could not possibly have right now, especially with the growing pain her toes. Instead, she focused on the part of him that was projecting. "Will, who gave you that black eye?"

He dropped silent and the shiver in his shoulders paused for a moment. "Hey, talk to me," Naomi hushed, hoping there was no residue of her suffering left in her tone.

"It's stupid," William said simply.

"It's not stupid if you're getting hurt." For a few minutes, neither of them moved or said anything and when she heard her parents downstairs go into their rooms she finally patted the seat next to her. "Sit down."

She heard him sniffle before he turned around and took the seat next to her. She put her arm around him and his head instantly fell on her shoulder. For a split second, everything drifted away and the room held but Naomi and William. They were nine years younger and had no real problems. But as quick as it came, it left. Reality pulled them back by the hair and settled in Will's purple eye and Naomi's left foot.

"Sebastian," William said. "He punched me. I don't even remember why. It feels so stupid now." He exhaled weakly. "It always feels stupid."

Naomi hugged him a little tighter. She wasn't sure what the right advice would be so she decided to take it to her parents tomorrow instead. They should fix this. "Naomi," he said timidly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your foot," he admitted. His head snuggled deeper in her shoulder, his blond hair tickling his neck. "Can you still dance?" She didn't answer. She didn't know the answer.

That night, Naomi slept next to her brother in that exact spot. She didn't bother rehearsing, afraid what would happen to her foot if she did. But more than that, she didn't want to leave William and he didn't want to leave her, even if they never said it out loud.

Author's Note
*jazz hands* things are happeningggg.

This week's dedication HAS to go to @DionneAbril bc I met her on the clubs (RIP) and she's left such nice comments I'm just wow. Ily! ❤️ If you vote, comment and share the next dedication could be you!

I know this chapter was a little longer but I just loved Will's and Naomi's dynamic. I hope you guys enjoyed reading about them and how they're both coping with their individual traumas. Let me know what you thought!

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

When a car had zipped by, Naomi caught something just out of her earshot. Like a hose spurting water. She walked and searched, finding the source in a few seconds. Looking at it now, it was actually quite hard to miss. Right across the street from the Fox Performing Arts Centre was a mural that was definitely not there before...