I know I’ve said it before, but having Drew as my teacher is the best gift Zayne could have ever given me.
The weeks that followed blurred into lesson after lesson, each one more demanding than the last. Drew never let me coast. If my walk faltered, he had me circle the room again until my calves burned. If my posture dipped, he’d flick my shoulder with a manicured finger and declare, “Darling, slump once, and you’re dead to the camera.”
But it wasn’t just the walking. He tested me everywhere.
One night, he whisked me to a fine dining restaurant, clicking his tongue when I reached for the wrong fork.
“Pause,” he said, catching my wrist mid-air. He leaned in, his eyes sharp, voice playful but strict. “Darling, the outer fork is for the salad, the inner for the main. Dessert? That tiny o
