SUMMER
My reflection stares back at me in the mirror and I'm so confused by what I see.
Sleek bun, pink tights, black leotard, pink skirt, pink ballet shoes. This is exactly how I looked my entire life but, right now, in this moment, that girl staring back at me doesn't feel like myself anymore. I don't recognize that woman, I have no idea who she is.
I try to smile but it feels forced, fake and, I realize that maybe I'm broken inside. Maybe there's a little girl inside of me, the one that actually enjoyed dancing classes, begging me to let her out and be free because I'm clinging too much to her but she doesn't want to come out– she's not ready. Not when there's a woman close to me bringing her down each day.
"God, how much have you eaten, Summer? What did I tell you?" her hands are on my cheeks, my arms, my stomach, squeezing every part of me. "You have a costume to fit in next month, you know that, right? Any other ballerina has a way better body than you."
I don't answer her, her hands making me flinch every time she squeezes.
I try not to react at her words, her coldness, her lack of emotion every time she says something– I am used to this. I've been used to her since I was fifteen. Every word, every squeeze, every yell, I just listen and don't respond. Only when she wants me to.
"You've put on so much weight." I didn't. "You need to start taking more hours at the gym. Also, I'd like you to come every day at eleven a.m. We're getting closer to the performance and I want you to do it perfectly."
I nod even though she's not watching my face. Her eyes are going up and down through my body, looking for imperfections and making me feel bad about myself. I close my eyes, feeling so uncomfortable, I only want to hide in my bed and let it swallow me.
I shouldn't have came back, but I can't let them down. I just can't. She wants me to come by the studio at eleven in the morning, most of my classes end after noon– what the fuck am I going to do?
I rub my right foot, ignoring how the burning feeling spreads all over my leg, and go once more. It's nothing a massage and an ice bath can't fix. Not what my doctor thought, anyway.
Madame Daisy walks around the studio, leaving me standing alone in the middle of it. I missed four classes and I'm paying the price right now. It's past eight p.m and I'm still here, overworking myself with just a bottle of water in my system. Exactly what the doctor said I shouldn't do.
She presses play for the who-knows-what time in a row and, without any warning, I start dancing. My mind is automatic when she presses play, my body starts moving– it feels kind of robotic. My body and my mind don't feel mine when I'm trapped in these four pink walls.
I have the choreography memorized, been working on it for months, the movements are second nature to me but Daisy always finds something wrong with it. Maybe my arms were in the wrong position, maybe my leg in the wrong place, maybe my face didn't represent what the character was trying to tell. But, I know it's all bullshit. I'm working my ass off with this, I've watched performances since I was nine. I know I'm doing everything right but who am I to say anything to the Daisy Silvers?
The music stops abruptly and I freeze, trying not to flinch when my feet touch the floor. Stop overworking yourself. Tell her you need to go. You've been here for nine hours. You're supposed to be here for four.
I find her bright eyes across the room and she just stares at me with an expression I can't read. "It's coming out perfect, Summer. You need to lose some weight but it's perfect. How's your leg?"
My nose wrinkles and I brush a strand of hair away from my face. "Uh, it's good. Nothing hurts." except for my whole body.
Daisy nods, a smile curves on her lips. "Great. See you tomorrow at eleven?"
"But I have–" she raises her brows at me, daring me to keep going. Right, nothing's more important than dancing. "Yeah, see you at eleven."
She smiles victoriously. "Go straight to the gym, yeah? And, then get some rest. You need it." she points to the bags under my eyes and my cheeks glow red. "Just one more step, little doll. You're close to the stars."
She leaves the studio after telling me to lock the doors, leaving me completely alone like she always does.
I collapse, letting my back fall against the mirror because I'm not ready to see myself yet. A sharp pain pierces through my leg and I shut my eyes, leaning my head back with the pain.
I let myself go, a loud sob echoing in the quiet room– I try to hide it but what's the point? I'm alone. I'm alone in this room, I spend more time here than I do at home and it doesn't feel like home. It feels like I'm being held hostage in these four walls. Like the movie Tangled, I'm waiting for someone to save me from the evil witch who's just sucking up all my life.
Tears fall to my legs, I wrap my arms around them after I bring them to my chest and I cry. And cry, and cry, and cry until I'm ready to scream but no sound comes out. Just uncontrollably sobbing and hiccups.
I cry for the little girl who wanted nothing more than to have fun dancing. I cry for the teenager who was so excited to join the most prestigious dance academy in the world. I cry for myself, because somehow in the years I've been here, I lost myself.
I lost myself in the process of becoming someone I never really wanted.
I don't know how much time I've been crying, curled up in the corner of the studio, but the sound of a Taylor Swift song makes me lift my head. I sniffle, wiping my eyes with my sleeves when I recognize my ringtone. I crawl to my bag, some tears still falling down my cheeks and I grab it just in time for the call to end.
My wallpaper stares at me–a picture of Aurora and I holding baby Millie when she was just a few months old– my lips try to form a smile but it's useless. The 9:14 p.m mocks at me, bringing a sharp pain to my chest that I ignore while opening the text messages. Madame Daisy doesn't let me use my phone in class, so I'm not surprised to find thirty three unread texts from literally everyone but I only open hers.
1:34
willow💜: hello, friend :) how are you feeling today?
2:21
willow💜: just wrote another song, wanna hear it?
2:22
willow💜: gonna assume u say yes so here,
willow💜: [Audio]
3:54
willow💜: are we still on for tonight? should i go to ur house or are we going together
4:23
willow💜: i know ur in dancing class but im worrieddd u can't use ur phone? :(
6:45
willow💜: well, i assumed your class ended at six. are u okay??
7:14
willow💜: ok im def worried. are u alive? send me a smoke signal or anything if u need help i'll go rescue you
willow💜: no but srsly are u ok? :(
8:27
willow💜: i didn't know if i should go to ur house or not but im worried. are u still at the studio?
8:45
willow💜: i realized i left you a lot of messages. don't hate me :)
willow💜: also, im walking on campus and i found ur sister. she said she hasn't seen u since yesterday and that you might be at the studio.
9:03
willow💜: fuck it, im coming. i hope you're okay.
Coming? Coming where?
Fuck. I completely forgot I had plans with Willow. It's been two days since we became officially friends and we've been texting a lot, well, when I have time to text back. She came to my house last night too, and we ordered some food and we watched a movie after she showed me her new songs.
My moms didn't let me do much, I had to practically beg them to let me go to Uni and then the studio– I should've listened to them.
Text messages from my mothers, sisters and my friends stare at me, I open my mom's just to tell her that I'm okay and I'm coming when my phone starts ringing again.
My heart skips a beat at the name with the little purple heart at the end. She's calling me.
I rub my eyes, to clear the fog in them and I answer the phone. "Uh, hi?" my voice cracks when I speak.
"Summer? Shit. Hey, hi." she sounds almost out of breath but her voice brings a smile in my face. "Where are you? I was worried about you. Are you at the studio?"
I clear my throat before speaking. "Um, yes. I'm still here. I was about to leave, I'm so sorry–"
"Are you crying? You sound like you–" she sighs and I hear the sound of a car. "I'm coming, okay? Don't leave without me."
"You don't need to–" she hangs up. "come." my voice gets lost in the room.
I place my phone inside my bag again, not caring about sending her a text and I start to get ready. I put on my denim jeans and a olive-white sweater with red hearts, it's a little bit big for me, it almost reaches my knees and it makes me look smaller than I am but it's my favorite, it's so soft and comfy. My uncles, Theo and Julian, gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.
I flinch when I put on my sneakers, I feel like I'm bleeding everywhere but I already put bandages on my cuts and bruises. I look in the mirror before turning off the lights and– shit. I look like shit.
My eyes are swollen and bloodshot from my tears, my cheeks puffy and red. I'm pretty sure if you search for scary girl crying on the internet, my picture will come up.
I limp to the door just in time to hear a the loud knocking that almost makes me jump. I turn off the lights with my bag hanging on my shoulder and I step outside turning around quickly before I can face her, so I can lock the door. I don't want her to see me so broken and small. I'm not this person. I can't be this person.
"Hey, what's wrong?" she still sounds out of breath. Did she run? Her sweet voice brings a little bit of peace to my heart. "Sums, what happened? Why are you still here? Why are you limping?"
I don't know why her questions bring tears to my eyes– Maybe because I didn't finish my breakdown. I sniffle, turning around to look up at her bright green eyes. Her brows are furrowed, her lips turned into a pout. I blow out a shaky breath, trying to control my tears. She's here. She's here because she was worried about me.
My chest feels lighter when she's close to me. My heart beats faster but not in a bad way, her eyes tell me I can feel safe with her. I'm not inside those four walls. I'm here, with her, I can just be myself and she won't judge me. That should scare me.
"Sums, talk to me. What's wrong?" her warm hands cup my cheeks and I lean in to wrap my arms around her waist.
She lets me hug her by bringing her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. I rest my cheek against her chest, listening to the pounding of her heart, telling me it's beating at the same speed as mine. My eyes close and I focus on that rhythm, on her breathing, just her.
I don't understand why I feel so safe in her arms, I just do. I don't have an explanation about why I want to stay in her arms forever. Why I feel so comfortable with her. Why I feel like we fit perfectly together. I've never felt this way before but Willow... she just feels right.
"It's okay, I'm here." she whispers, her hands rub up and down my back, brushing my hair softly.
Butterflies are uncontrollable in my stomach and I pray she can't feel the way my heart's beating for her. "Do you want me to take you home?"
"How'd you get here?" I can't shake the trembling in my voice.
"Uber. I was really worried about you. I can't believe you were still here." her fingers brush my hair softly. "How are you feeling? You were limping."
I force myself to break our hug even though I don't want to, and I look up at her again. The moonlight shines in the dark sky, the cold wind freezes my face and hands but I feel warm just because she's this close to me, looking at me with those shiny eyes and sweet smile. God, I need to get over this crush.
"I'm better now," I nod, making an attempt to smile at her. "I'm sorry for not texting back. I lost track of time." well, that's a lie. "Do you still want to practice? I... It's very late."
I notice how her face softens after I say I'm better now, she reaches for her phone and I watch the movement of her fingers. "It's okay, I'll bring you home. You must be tired and you need to rest."
I shake my head. "I'm fine. I..." want to spend time with you. "I could use some music."
"I ordered an Uber. She'll be here in two minutes." she links her arm with mine. "I'll stay with you if you want. For a little while."
I bite my bottom lip, repressing a smile. "Are you sure? Aren't you tired?"
"Nope. Been too busy worrying about you."
Thump, thump, thump. "Aw, see? You care about me." I tease, elbowing her side softly.
Her cheeks turn a shade of red that brings a smile on my face. "And there you were, telling me we're not friends."
She rolls her eyes. "You never going to let it go, right?"
"Nope." I press my lips together. "It's kind of funny. Seeing you in denial."
"I wasn't in denial. I was just..." scared, she doesn't say. "Whatever. Sue me for worrying."
My cheeks flood with heat. "Thank you for coming for me." I murmur. "You didn't have to."
She nods. "I wanted to and I–" she was ready to say more but a white car stops in front of us. "That must be our driver, c'mon. Can you walk?"
I nod, disappointed that our conversation got interrupted. "Yeah, I'm fine."
In the drive home, I send the family group a text telling them that I'm alive and another for each my moms, telling them I'm coming home with Willow.
The family group explodes with messages. They're so fucking insane.
uncle julian: You were missing? we didn't notice :)
uncle theo: Don't listen to him, sunshine. He was already calling Tom, getting the jet ready to fly home.
uncle theo: We're glad you're okay. We miss you, we're coming home next week for thanksgiving.
rory ⛸️💌: god, summer. we need to talk. sister to sister.
princess millie🧸: What about me? ☹️
nana lizzie 🤍: I made pasta for you, little sunshine! Tell your moms to feed you or you can come visit us.
auntie lauren: she doesn't have time for us anymore.
I scroll down to the last message, tired of reading. How can they talk so much?
The last couple of messages make me chuckle and I feel Willow's gaze on me.
uncle theo: I still don't understand why Lauren is here.
auntie lauren: I'm family, read the room.
uncle theo: Are you, though?
auntie lauren: Ask your daughter who's her favorite aunt.
uncle theo: She said mia.
uncle julian: She did not and now he's crying.
"Who are you texting?" Willow leans in to see my phone and I bring it to my chest, narrowing my eyes at her. "What! I'm bored."
"Just my family." I shrug, locking my phone before staring at her. "We're here."
The car stops and we get out after I pay the Uber driver, murmuring a soft thank you.
"Me at the Bennett's house three days in a row." Her eyebrows raise. "Who would've thought? Maya must be shitting her pants."
"Why?" we reach the front door and I start unlocking the door. My moms have so much security system in this house.
"She's always been kind of like a... fan? of your family." I notice the hesitation in her voice, like she finds it weird. "She totally freaked out when she saw you in her class, that first day. Aaaand, I just realized she's going to kill me for telling you that."
I chuckle, feeling a little bit embarrassed. I've had people coming to me just because my family is famous. Had to sign some autographs at uni, take some pictures, I also notice a lot of people taking pictures of me without even asking but I don't dare to say anything.
My sister, though, she doesn't care. I remember her being seven/eight years old and talking back to the paparazzis for not leaving us alone. She's fearless, loud, extrovert and I'm just the shy, quiet little girl who can't say no.
"I'm nothing special." I shrug stepping into my house. She snorts at my words while I close the door. "What?"
"Nothing special?" I find her bright eyes looking at me like I'm being ridiculous. "Come on, you're–"
"Summer! God! We were so worried about you!" my mom comes almost running to me and crushes her body against mine, hugging me like I've been gone for years. "Why haven't you texted us? Gosh, don't do that again."
"I'm sorry, mom. I lost track of time." I say out of breath. "I can't breathe."
She lets me go with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry, I was just worried."
"Hi, honey. Don't do that again, okay?" my mama says behind my mom, she hugs me for a moment and sighs against my hair. I feel like shit for making them worry.
They both turn around to find a shy Willow, playing with the rings on her fingers. So cute. "Hi, Willow. How are you?"
Her eyes widen when she hears my mama's voice directed at her. She's not used to my moms yet, noted.
"I, uh. I'm fine, Mrs. Bennett, thank you." she smiles nervously.
"She came for me at the studio." I tell them with a wide smile. "We're gonna go upstairs."
"I'll bring you some food." mom says, her blue eyes lock with Willow's. "Do you like pasta? It's okay if you don't, we have pizza, lasagna, mac and cheese. Whatever you want."
Willow blushes and I go stand next to her, linking my arm with hers and giving a small squeeze, telling her that I'm here. "Uh, I'm fine. Thank you."
"That's not what I asked." mom narrows her eyes at her. "So, pasta?"
Willow looks down at me like she's asking for permission. My lips turn into a smile while I look at her, her eyes shine so beautifully that I can't look away. Just after I give her a small nod, she says, "Yeah. Pasta is great."
"You two go upstairs and I'll bring it to you."
I shake my head when I notice I've been staring at Willow with my moms in front of me. My cheeks flush when I find my mama with her brows raised and a small little smirk. She clearly saw me watching the girl next to me. Fuck, I don't need them to think I have a crush on this girl. No, no, no.
"Let's go." I grab Willow's hand and I lead her upstairs. Ignoring the million butterflies in my body when she links her fingers with mine.
Fuckkkk.