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I’m fit, strong, carved by hours of ruthless training—so why does it suddenly feel so bad?
I never picked apart my body until this tour started. Never examined myself daily or pulled on the bits of my stomach that I wish would shrink. Everyone around me is world class; we’re all here because we’re the best, and of course, I want to fit in with the best.
Not only that, but the distraction of picking apart my body is far better than the memory of letting someone use it without permission.
In a room full of blonde, slender, perfect dancers, it’s hard enough being the one that sticks out.
Ignoring my unhealthy thoughts and weakened limbs, I continue with my task at hand. When my phone connects to the Bluetooth, I run through the new dance several times.
So far, I’ve choreographed it perfectly. It’s electric, passionate, and perfect for Haven to debut this new side of her artistry.
At the final part, I pause, listening through the end of the track a few times before landing on what feels right to end the routine. When I finally feel like I’ve found what works, I run through the entire dance.
On my eighth run-through, waiting for it to feel just right, I press play on my phone, allowing the blaring speakers to boom through the space once more.
The screech of my sneakers moves with my body as my slow but languid movements try to engrave the dance into my memory. By the second chorus, my breath becomes shortened, the sweat from my back and temples running from warm to cold.
Continuing like I’ve been trained to do, I press forward, but it’s no match for the splotches that dot my vision.
Stumbling to my phone, I pause the music, hurriedly falling to my knees in hopes the settled movement will slow the room spinning.
When it doesn’t, I panic with shaky fingers to find my most recent message.
ME
Did I leave my water in the car?
JETT
You didn’t have one with you. Want me to run and grab one?
ME
It’s fine. I’ll be out in a second.
Moments pass, and I stay rooted on my knees. The dots that were blackening my vision are still circulating, but less prominent.
When I attempt to rise, I lift my ass from my heels and stand tall on my knees before flopping back down onto my haunches. All strength leaving my body.
Pains from hunger, mixed with helplessness in the form of coping, all circulate around in my head. My body takes on its own recovery and slowly stills my limbs to the cool floor.
Lying alone and powerless, I feel a single tear fall from the corner of my eye, his name mumbling softly from my lips like a prayer.
“Jett.”
On my side, I sit as tears trail down my face. When my eyes close, it’s only a few minutes that go by, or at least that’s what it feels like, before the coolness of the floor around me feels like a cloud.
And everything I know fades to black.
CHAPTER 34
JETT
“C’mon, Fia, answer me.”
My voice quivers as I hover over my keyboard in hopes that tiny dots will appear just like they did moments ago.
I was taken aback that Fia was so light and airy when she got in the car.
