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“The feeling is mutual.”

Humbly, with my talent, coaching was never even offered by my studio. I’d been an example countless times, but everyone pushed for me to be the one to make it to the top. If anyone was going to carry the weight of this studio on their back, be a success story, it was me.

But everything looks different from the top. It’s exhausting, dark, and full of self-scrutiny. Nothing like success. More like ruination.

Sure, dancing for Haven is an accomplishment, one many dancers would even call the peak of their careers, but it’s not mine.

“What are you here for?”

Finally turning my whole body toward Taylor, I pivot our conversation, not wanting a reason to get in my head during our rehearsal.

“Haven asked me to come watch.”

I shimmy a shoulder in her direction, giving her a little nudge. Taylor’s an incredible dancer. She’s ideal for tours like this. Versatile, with impeccable technique, she could be on tour with anyone she wanted.

“That’s exciting. Trying to brush up on your hip-hop?”

While I prefer the more fast-paced styles, Taylor is one hell of a contemporary dancer.

“Kinda. Don’t tell anyone this, but I might give the Blazettes a shot next season.”

A hint of pink tints her cheeks as she tries to suppress a smile.

“No more touring?” I ask, shocked that she would redirect her career after she was so excited about this opportunity.

“Maybe I’ll come back to it, who knows. I’ve taken a new interest in basketball.”

Oddly enough, I find so much comfort in hearing about her wanting something different too; it makes my looming decision of wanting to be done with this not feel so bad.

My eyebrow quirks with curiosity.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Mr. Giant, does it?”

“I can’t confirm nor deny,” she says with a wink.

Once Haven and the Blazettes get to the studio, we warm up quickly, letting the youth girls line up to watch our first run-through.

For someone who’s been doing this dance for months, I have the worst focus of anyone. It’s impossible for me. All I can pay attention to are the heart eyes of my sweet girls in front of me.

They count our every move, watch as we cleanly transition from formation to formation. Study as each dancer is clean in their routine that I created while simultaneously making it their own.

When the music finally cuts, the claps from the twelve girls sitting in front of us are more meaningful than the thousands of screams we hear every night—to me, at least.

“You guys are so amazing,” one of my girls whispers, and the majority of us chuckle under our breaths, loving the praise of a little dancer.

“Maybe I can teach it to you guys one day,” I beam before I can stop myself, my coaching hat organically slipping back on.

“You’d do that?” they squeal.

Haven and the rest of the dancers look at me in awe as I brighten at the chance to teach them. When the girls finally leave, we run through the dance a few more times until we’re satisfied enough to break for the day.

Packing the last of my bag, it’s Haven and I who are the last to leave once again.

“You’re really good with them, you know.”

“Yeah, I love them,” I answer honestly.

“I think you’re one of the best dancers I’ve ever had, Fia. I mean that truly.”