Not The Pointe

PROLOGUE

*FLASHFORWARD*

October 2024

My heart is racing and my eyes threaten to fill with tears as I leave the theater. I'm exhausted, sweat still lingering, and body aching, but not nearly as much as my heart. I shove the backstage door open, clutching to my tote bag as I'm hit with a gust of freezing cold air. I can hear commotion towards the front of the theater so I turn the opposite way. I would rather walk the extra mile to the hotel than face curious people or worse, cameras. The puddles on the stone sidewalk reflect the streetlights, reminding me of the stage lights I just stared at all night.

The wind picks up as I walk, my hairspray barely holding in the tight bun required for tonight's performance. I am humiliated, devastated, and furious all at once yet not a single clear thought comes to mind when I see him across the street. I feel my stomach drop and I avoid eye contact, hoping to escape him, if I walk fast enough. He crosses the street with determination yet his shoulders are slumped so low he looks physically ill. The silence is loud when I inevitably stop in front of him, my body language undoubtedly saying everything he needed to know.

"Belle-" the desperation in his voice is clear as he reaches for me, but I step back in disbelief. I feel nothing but shame for ever trusting him.

"There is absolutely nothing you could say to me that would fix this right now." I hold my long coat closed, the tightness of my warm layers offering comfort and a sense of protection.

"I promise, I can explain if you'd let me. Please, baby-" his voice cracks with emotion and even with his face still hidden in the shadows, it's clear how hurt he is.

"Just stop. I don't even know why you bothered to come at all. It's over." Thick tears fall down my face and I wipe my eyes immediately, no concern about my soon to be ruined stage makeup.

"I'm here because I promised I would be-"

"Showing up when it's over is NOT keeping your promises." I can't help but raise my voice at him, my own voice on the verge of cracking. "You missed it AGAIN."

"Belle, I wanted to be here and you know that. You have know idea what I've been through-"

"Are you fucking serious right now? You expect me to feel bad for you? After I just watched your EMPTY CHAIR for hours? I have given you chance after chance, and you still can't own up to your own actions. GROW THE FUCK UP, STETSON." I'm aware that my yelling has drawn the attention of the few people around us but I could care less. I'm fully crying now, words spilling out of my mouth before I can think twice. "You had hours to show up tonight and months to show up for me. Now it's over and I'm DONE."

I give him no time to reply as I walk away, afraid I would take back my words if I stayed.

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WELCOME & THANKS FOR READING!!!

This is the second version of this story- the original was on my old account @prettygirlswatchf1 but I am thrilled to be reworking it!! I love F1 and hope this story can fill the void while in off season! Thank you so much for reading and please vote or leave comments/feedback!💗

- prettygirlzwatchf1
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