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Someone who isn’t Jett Parker, because after he knows how fucked up my head is, there’s no way he’ll want to take on a project like me.
The familiar parking lot of Star Studios brings instant comfort to my belly. This place is my home—it’s built me, broken me, and built me back again.
“Welcome home!” Everyone shouts the second I pull the glass door open.
A full smile I haven’t shared in months covers my entire face.
“Oh my gosh, guys! What is all of this?”
My favorite strawberry sprinkle cupcakes, cookies, candy, and rows of limited-edition strawberry-kiwi Gatorade cover the front desk.
“We had to throw our favorite girl a welcome home party.”
Open arms move in my direction as Vic grins from ear to ear, enveloping me in a hug I’ve waited months for. In no rush to unlatch myself from her arms, the turmoil I’ve dealt with for the last couple of months falls to the wayside.
Being back here feels right—like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
“I’ve missed you guys so much,” I murmur, emotion clogging my throat.
Vic smiles. “We’ve missed you too.”
Taking in my safe haven, I feel the release of stress exit my body. I’ve always thought being a celebrity choreographer was my destiny. It’s all I’ve strived for. But this environment, the raw blood, sweat, and tears of developing young dancers, is what I miss the most.
“The girls are practicing right now. Wanna go surprise them?” Vic asks, eyes glistening with excitement.
“Is that even a question?”
Setting my bag behind the front desk, I meet Vic on the opposite end, locking elbows so we can surprise the girls together.
I haven’t felt this excited about something in months—well, I have, but I’m still taking time to process that.
“What’s with the sale? Didn’t we just get all that stuff in right before I left?”
In a corner of the studio, we have a display of merch, leotards, tights, dance shoes, etc. Sometimes, girls forget their stuff at home, and we end up charging parents an arm and a leg for their child’s mistake. Oftentimes, new dancers go home with a sweatshirt or two to celebrate their new endeavor.
It typically takes time for stuff to go on sale, though. We don’t rotate inventory enough to mark it down.
“I was waiting to tell you when you got here?” Vic says.
“Wait to tell me what? What’s going on?”
A flash of uncertainty moves across her face, and my stomach drops.
“Star is going through a rebrand, allegedly.”
Her confession is to the point, but she sounds shaky.
“What do you mean, going through a rebrand?”
Star Studios has been in business for over twenty years. It doesn’t need a rebrand; we’re one of the best studios in the state.
What the hell is happening?
“New ownership, possible renovations, a new name. We had a meeting last night, and it’s not supposed to affect anything internally, or at least, that’s what we were promised.”
“Why, though? What’s Lee saying? I never thought she’d sell.”
I can’t believe this is happening.
