Dance with Me [h.s] (Completed)

Chapter 33

I'm feel like I should be dreading going into the studio with Zayn and Harry today but I'm not. I feel strangely empowered after yesterday. Once I got over all the resentment and anger I felt at our terrible day at Coney Island, a sense of calmness washed over me. My intentions were clear from here on out. I needed to live my life in a way that made me happy and I had to stop putting other people's feelings above my own.

I didn't want to be with Zayn, I knew that now. He was always going to be someone who played an important part of my life but I had outgrown him. That didn't mean I was going to burn bridges. I recognized that I needed him to compete at the New York Invitational and again at Worlds. I was grateful for this partnership and how far we had come, but our relationship had changed. I had to stop resisting that.

Then, there was Harry.

He called me Sunshine but I think he was the one making me grow. Pushing me to be better. Forcing me to embrace my strength as a dancer. He was the first person to recognize all the potential in me. He made me believe in myself. He was the missing piece I needed.

Harry had quickly become my favorite person but to be fair I didn't really have a choice in the matter. He had invaded my life so smoothly and seamlessly that I hadn't even realized how important he had become to me until it had already happened. I would be devastated if I lost him now. I can't say the same for Zayn.

Being around Harry was a cold popsicle on a hot summer day; refreshing, satisfying, I wanted him to melt in my mouth. 

He made the mundane colourful.

Dance had felt like work ever since I lost at Worlds. Before then, I was getting to dance every day with the guy I was in love with. I got to travel to London to compete with him and it was a dream. We spent every second of those three days together, essentially sequestered to our hotel room as we waited for our call times for performing. We ordered room service and watched movies on my laptop. And the dancing was phenomenal. We had hired a coach and our routines were sharp and inventive. We knew we were the youngest dancers competing, against people much older than us so we really leaned into that, creating routines that were progressive and out of the box. I've never danced better at a competition than I did that weekend. I was completely sure that we had won.

But we lost. And I spiraled. If I hadn't had Zayn there I don't know if I would have made it home from London. He was the metaphorical crutch I leaned on for weeks after. I pushed myself even harder than before. It was the first time I considered changing partners. I knew he wasn't committed to it as much as I was. I could tell as he dragged himself to practice but I thought if I trained harder and became better that I could elevate both of us. That's how I ended up injuring my hip. Rest was the only solution; a forced sabbatical. Changing partners after that seemed stupid when I was on a reduced schedule. I signed up for school, knowing that I wouldn't be able to dance forever like I hoped.

But then in March, right before I graduated, I was speaking to a mom of one of my students. She told me how she had seen videos of me dancing at Worlds and she couldn't believe we hadn't won. She thought we were robbed. I didn't think much of it at first but then I went back and watched our final dances and they were fantastic. I tried to nitpick them but I couldn't; they were flawless. But, it didn't really matter because we had still lost. All I knew was that I had to give it one more go before quitting and focusing on my career, and Zayn, well, he was my last chance at that and I couldn't screw it up by telling him how upset he had made me yesterday. No, I would have to suck it up and tell him that I think we should focus on being friends until we were no longer dancing partners.

I enter the studio and Harry looks up at me. I can tell he is assessing me after watching me leave yesterday with Zayn from his studio window. I don't stop walking when I come in and drop my bag on the ground as I approach him. I stand in front of him, trying to be as truthful as I've ever been with him.