BY THE TIME NAOMI GOT BACK TO THE STUDIO, SHE COULD HARDLY SEE STRAIGHT. Her feet mindlessly pushed her past the Fox Performing Arts Centre doors and plopped her dead in the centre of the studio floor, and the only thing that came into focus was her own reflection looking back at her in the mirror. In the back of her mind, she supposed, she always suspected her father's infidelity and she'd imagined countless times when she'd catch him red-handed. Imaginary Naomi shouted and cursed her father repeatedly, anger bubbling over in her mind. But real Naomi, despite all anger and lingering suspicion, was struck still. Like a deer caught in her father's BMW headlights on the Riverside sidewalk.

When she saw him, for a moment, she felt as if she was watching someone else's life unfold before her, because surely it wasn't hers. These things didn't happen to small families in Riverside. Especially not hers. So Naomi Morgan simply stood there, unmoving and unbelieving; until her father and his mistress casually got in the car and sped off. Only then, did the pain strike and she was sure that somewhere inside of her, something had just gone catastrophically wrong.

"Naomi," Mr Carson called, "Are you feeling better?"

She stood but didn't turn around. "Yes," she lied. In fact, when she'd gotten back to the centre she beelined for the girls' dressing room and doused her toes in the numbing gel. Silently praying it would numb something much, much worse.

Aspen wordlessly came up behind her, her eyes watching her reflection. Naomi swore at herself not to glance back though, if she did the other girl might see something was wrong, or worse, Naomi Morgan might start crying. Naomi stood en pointe swiftly and awaited Mr Carson's cue. When it came, she danced. And she wished that suddenly none of it would matter as she turned and jumped, but the reality was the opposite.

Every look Giselle had to muster felt like agony and each touch she endured felt like pricks from a merciless thorn. The entire routine fell to shambles around Naomi's dirty pointe shoes as time allowed what was manifesting inside of her to grow. The weight of it soon crippled her until her jumps were nothing but faint attempts and her stances were stumbling disgraces. The rage Mr Carson spat went right through her too, like a ghost.

When she realized every effort she made was useless, her mind swam back to the moment on the Riverside sidewalk.

"Stop. Just stop." Mr Carson pushed up a palm.

Aspen sighed exasperatedly and walked off. "What the hell?" Mr Carson blurted. The music disappeared from the room with a click from Mr Carson's finger on the stereo. Suddenly, the barres on either side of the room felt miles away. She softly cleared her throat.

He tried again. "What is wrong with you, Naomi?" Mr Carson's voice wasn't as loud as she expected, if anything it was desperate. "Every other girl in this programme would gladly run you over with a bus for this role. You would too if someone else had it. So, what am I missing?"

She wanted to reply. To explain how her father took a knife through her heart today. To explain how she didn't know how to tell her mother or her brother. To explain that she thinks today marks the day her family will fall apart. To explain every stupid and pestering thought punching themselves in her head. But her lips were already sewn shut.

"Look at me." She didn't. "Look at me, Naomi."

"Naomi." She swore Jessica called her that time. She had to look up. But the tonne weight pressing down on her neck felt a little lighter when she realized it was only Mr Carson. Maybe it was his tone, or the fact that he wanted to help but wasn't sure how, but nevertheless, she strained her chin upward. When their eyes met, it felt like opium. He motioned her over. Hesitantly, she followed him to the other side of the studio.

"A dancer is nothing without internal segregation," Mr Carson said, "Dance must constantly be separate from your life and vice versa. If you cannot handle that, you won't make it a day in NYC. Rule number one." He checked his watch, "Do this again tomorrow and I'll hand the lead over to Aspen. Maybe she can handle the pressure."

With that, Mr Carson swept up his belongings and marched through the door. There was a tinge in Naomi's eyes when it slammed shut in front of her but she was not able to vocalize any sort of regret. "Naom-" Aspen started.

"Don't." Naomi ignored the pain returning to her toes and barged out the studio with a slight limp.

In the dressing room, as one garment was peeled off and replaced by another, Naomi felt the growing desire to simply stay there. If she spent the night at The Fox Performing Arts Centre, she could work on her routine and have the liberty of avoiding her father. It was a win-win. She really contemplated it until there was a knock on the other side of the door.

"Naomi?" It was Aspen.

She muttered a response.

"I need my bags. Open the door."

"Give me a second." Naomi made sure her eyes were dry before standing up.

"Naomi?"

"Wait!" She checked once more before unlocking the door. Aspen stalked in, muttering a thank you. She never carried sweat or shame with her. Her head was always tall and her makeup looked untouched. She grabbed her bags and opened one to retrieve her pink water bottle before slinging it on her shoulder. Then, she made her way out, releasing the bun that her hair was in as she passed Naomi on the floor. Her forehead was buried in her knees and though Aspen made sure to not look at her, Naomi's sobbing was obvious. She rolled her eyes and pulled the door shut, but suddenly stopped at a degree. Aspen exhaled painfully. She pushed the door open all the way now. "Let's go."

Naomi looked up. Aspen was looking at her pointedly. "What?"

Aspen's chest rose and fell. She held on to the doorknob. "Get up," she repeated like it was obvious. "I can't leave you here alone." Naomi waited to see if she was serious. "Please don't make me ask twice."

Naomi let her legs fall flat to the floor as she wiped her eyes. She couldn't think of anything else to say except, "Why?"

The blonde girl tongued her teeth and finally let go of the door. Her eyes cascaded the room and she shrugged. "I owe you one okay? You could have told everyone what you saw that day with my dad, but you didn't. Can we go now?"

Wordlessly, Naomi nodded.

Aspen left the room, leaving the door wide open as Naomi quickly changed her shoes and took up her bag. She locked the door behind her.

When she made it outside, Aspen's silver Prius was humming on the curb. Naomi went up to it, trying not to wonder why her parents never got her a car and threw her bags in the backseat before getting in the front. Naomi looked out her window and slumped down the leather of the chair as the car reversed onto the road. "I don't want to talk about it," she said.

Aspen put her car in drive. "Thank God."

The girls sped off.

Half an hour passed where words went unsaid and thoughts unspoken until Naomi's house came into the clearing. "This one?" Aspen pointed.

"No," Naomi pointed again at her house, "that one right there." By the time the car pulled up to it, Naomi was already clutching the door handle. She stepped out hastily and began working the back door open just in time to see her mother coming down the front porch, hair done up and makeup made. "You're home early," Naomi noted, taking her bag out of the back.

"So are you." Naomi didn't have the strength to respond. Her mother walked over to the passenger seat and bent to the window. "Thank you so much for carrying her home," she said smiling.

Aspen smiled like she did when she danced. "Good evening, Mrs Morgan. It wasn't a problem."

"That's lovely," Naomi mocked as she came behind her mother. "Let's go inside." Neither of them seemed to hear her.

"You should come in for dinner," Mrs Morgan offered. A silence hovered.

Above them, the clouds spewed a slight drizzle. Before either girl could answer Mrs Morgan said, "I insist, really. My husband and I would really love to hear from someone else that goes to the Academy." The drizzle quickly began to gain weight. They all looked up at the sky. "Can't leave you out here to the wrath of the elements either." She smiled broadly, "Come in, dear."

Naomi knew her father's confrontation would have to wait.

Author's Note
If I were Naomi I'd tell my mom immediately just so I can see her grab her hot sauce baseball bat and start making a MESS. (if you got that reference you can be my best friend)

This week's dedication HAS to go to @Ada-Mwrites ❤️😭❤️❤️😭 guys, I love her to death. Tysm for all your support, I honestly would wilt and die w/o you. If you vote, comment and share the next dedication could be you!

Readers, how are you feeling about this book so far?

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

Just beneath the surface of her chest, something dangerous swam. Mr Morgan raised an eyebrow confusedly. Her expression had twisted and before she knew it, her mouth was open and her thoughts were sailing out. "Is that what you do all day?" The venom in her voice was hard to miss. "Scrape teeth and fill cavities?"