Episode3
1081 Words
By the time they left for the rehearsal venue, rain had started falling over Manhattan.
Not heavy rain.
Just enough to blur the city lights and leave silver streaks across the car windows.
Vanessa spent the entire drive scrolling through comments on her latest post while Diane took business calls beside her. Between them, Maya sat quietly with two garment bags across her lap and a coffee growing cold in her hands.
Nobody spoke to her.
Which, honestly, made the ride easier.
Outside, New York moved in flashes—yellow taxis cutting through wet streets, people hurrying beneath umbrellas, steam curling from subway grates into the cold afternoon air.
Maya rested her forehead lightly against the glass.
She told herself not to expect too much from today.
Just carry the bags.
Stay invisible.
Go home.
Simple.
But somewhere underneath all that logic, something nervous and hopeful kept unfolding anyway.
The Aurora Awards rehearsals.
Real stage dancers.
Real choreographers.
Real performers.
The kind of world she’d spent years watching from the outside.
Vanessa suddenly lowered her phone with an annoyed groan.
“Why are people still talking about that stupid video?”
Diane barely looked up from her tablet. “Because anything involving Adrian Vale gets attention.”
“It makes me look bad.”
“You looked irritated,” Diane corrected calmly. “There’s a difference.”
Vanessa crossed her arms. “Well maybe I was irritated.”
Maya kept her eyes on the rain outside.
“Honestly,” Vanessa muttered, “people are acting like she murdered him with champagne.”
Diane finally glanced toward Maya.
“You should’ve been more careful.”
Maya nodded once. “I know.”
That was the end of it.
The conversation moved on without her.
It always did.
---
The rehearsal venue sat near the edge of downtown Manhattan, hidden behind massive black gates and production trucks lined bumper to bumper.
The second Maya stepped out of the car, energy hit her all at once.
Crew members hurried across the lot carrying equipment. Security guards checked names against clipboards. Music echoed faintly from somewhere deep inside the building.
Everything moved fast.
Purposefully.
Like the entire place was alive.
Vanessa immediately straightened, sunglasses sliding into place as photographers near the entrance noticed her arrival.
“Oh my God, she’s here.”
“Vanessa! Over here!”
She smiled instantly.
Different smile.
Not real.
Practiced.
Maya watched the transformation happen in seconds.
Then Diane turned toward her.
“Stay close,” she said quietly. “And do not embarrass us today.”
Maya tightened her grip on the garment bags. “I won’t.”
Vanessa was already walking ahead without waiting.
Maya followed behind her through the entrance and into the main arena—
and nearly stopped breathing.
The stage was enormous.
Rows of suspended lights stretched across the ceiling like stars. Giant LED screens glowed along the back wall while dancers rehearsed under bursts of colored light.
Music thundered through the arena floor hard enough to feel in her chest.
For one dangerous second, Maya forgot to move.
This.
This was the world she dreamed about.
Not the fame.
Not cameras.
Just this feeling.
The stage.
“Move,” Vanessa snapped over her shoulder.
Maya blinked and hurried after her.
---
The backstage corridors were chaos.
Stylists rushed past holding racks of clothes. Production assistants shouted into headsets. Somewhere nearby, someone was arguing aggressively about pyrotechnics.
Vanessa handed her phone to Maya without warning.
“Hold this.”
Maya barely caught it.
“And don’t let anyone touch my makeup case.”
“You left it in the car.”
Vanessa stopped walking.
Slowly turned.
“You’re joking.”
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“You said the driver was bringing—”
“Why would I trust the driver with my makeup?”
People brushed around them while Vanessa stared at her like she’d committed a crime.
“Go get it,” she snapped.
Maya immediately turned back toward the entrance.
“Hey.”
A familiar voice stopped her halfway down the hallway.
Jordan appeared from behind a lighting setup with a camera hanging around his neck and an iced coffee balanced in one hand.
“There’s my favorite emotionally repressed disaster.”
Despite everything, Maya laughed.
“You work everywhere.”
“I’m talented.” He glanced toward Vanessa disappearing into the dressing rooms. “You look stressed.”
“She already hates today.”
“That’s just her natural state.”
Maya shook her head, trying not to smile too much.
Jordan studied her face for a second longer.
Then his expression softened slightly.
“You okay?”
Maya looked past him toward the stage entrance where music pulsed through the arena.
“I think I forgot what this feels like.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
Then admitted quietly, “Wanting something.”
Jordan didn’t answer immediately.
He just looked at her in that steady way he always did when he knew she was being honest without meaning to.
“Well,” he said finally, “that sounds like a human emotion. I support it.”
She rolled her eyes softly.
Then a sudden burst of screaming echoed from the arena floor.
Not panic.
Excitement.
Jordan glanced toward the sound and smirked.
“Guessing your boyfriend just arrived.”
Maya nearly choked. “Jordan.”
“What? The internet ships you already.”
“We made eye contact one time.”
“That’s enough for social media.”
Maya laughed again despite herself.
Then she looked toward the stage entrance—
and saw him.
Adrian Vale walked onto the rehearsal floor surrounded by security and staff, dark hoodie pulled low over his head, phone in one hand.
People shifted around him instinctively.
Not because he demanded attention.
Because his presence changed the atmosphere without trying.
Even from far away, he looked exhausted.
One of the dancers waved at him enthusiastically.
Adrian smiled politely.
Small.
Tired.
Gone a second later.
Maya watched him longer than she meant to.
Then, unexpectedly—
he looked up.
Their eyes met across the crowded arena.
Just for a second.
But unlike the party, there was no confusion this time.
Recognition f
lickered briefly across his face.
The girl with the champagne.
Maya looked away first.
Her pulse stumbled strangely in her chest.
Beside her, Jordan noticed immediately.
“Oh,” he murmured.
“What?”
“That,” he said, watching Adrian carefully, “looked personal.”
- Writer
