TW:

"Congratulations, girls, the group was the overall high-scoring group routine." Miss Abby started off. "All right, you are going, once again, to Ohio. Columbus, Ohio."

Candy Apples. Again.

What was interesting about the pyramid today was that there were ― like usual ― three rows, but the middle row only had one headshot on it and the usual top with one. The other six headshots were all in the bottom row, and that rose the question: "who were the two lucky people that were in the middle and the top?"

It started being answered as soon as the teacher started revealing the headshots, starting with one that was probably shocking, but I didn't mind it either. "Maddie." And just like that, she continued. "Mackenzie. Giselle. Kendall. Chloe. Nia. Because every single one of you did exactly what you were supposed to do. When you can't hear the music and something goes wrong, you keep dancing."

Melissa started clapping and the rest of the mothers soon followed the blonde's lead. Some of the girls also clapped while the others simply smiled. With many options-- I clapped once.

"But Kalani stole the show. She was the second overall high score of the competition." Miss Abby revealed the middle headshot and the girl smiled. "And on the top, we have Evie. She performed her first pointe solo and she was the overall high score winning solo of the entire competition."

While everyone clapped, I couldn't help but think about how I had failed.

I needed a three-hundred, not a two hundred and ninety-five.

Genevieve

Kalani

Nia    Chloe   Kendall   Giselle   Mackenzie    Maddie

The teacher continued. "This week, moms, I am deciding on the new team. This unveiling of the new team is really the final audition in Pittsburgh."

"And they will all come here?" Holly questioned.

Miss Abby nodded. "They will all come here. Girls--" She turned back to us. "You will have somebody on the new team that is gonna go up against you. Will this new team live up to your success? Will this new team have what it takes? I don't know." The teacher then shrugged. "Alrighty, I want you to know we're having auditions for Mackenzie's video. Mackenzie, we're gonna be auditioning in-house. I am utilizing my other students. Do you understand that?"

Mackenzie nodded. "Yes."

"And Mackenzie will be making the final decisions on who is being selected." Miss Abby told the rest of us.

"No," Madison mumbled from right next to me. "She's not gonna pick me."

"I am going to pick you." Her younger sister assured.

Some of the mothers laughed at the interaction as Miss Abby pointed back and forth between the Ziegler sisters. "Is that nepotism? Is that what's that called?"

The younger brunette turned back to the teacher. "Only if she's good at the choreography."

"Let me give out the assignments. Let's go." The older woman moved on. "Now, this week, moms, I might not be there. As you know--" She turned to look at us. "My mother is dying. She's not gonna get better. She's not going to be cured. Right now, what the hospice care tries to do is to make her comfortable."

My eyes were already burning and I held back the tears.

This wasn't a place to be crying in.

"Can I say something?" Melissa piped up. "I just want to tell you that-- thank you so much for letting me be such a part of your mom's life." She teared up. "These past couple of years, we've been-- your mom, like I told her today, she looks right in my eyes and I said, "You know, mom, you are my mom now because my mom left me so long ago." I love her so much-- I love you."

And slowly, tears started rolling down my cheeks and I tried my best to ignore them. I crossed my arms over my back and took a deep breath while Miss Abby hugged a crying Madison. Placing her head on top of the young girl's, she whispered something. "There's someplace better."

And it felt like a stab to the heart.

Because I felt sad and upset at the news, but at the same time, I couldn't feel anything. I tried so hard to laugh or even smile, I tried so hard to cry or scream, but I always feel like I'm being held back. I try to ask for help, but every single time it ends up with an argument. I felt as if I was stuck in glass as if it was an exhibition in a museum. Everyone walked past it and moved on with their day, but I tried to get their attention, but I failed every time. I kept on screaming and screaming but no one could hear a thing.

I was drowning and no one noticed.

I was dying and no one noticed.

And the fact that one thing could have changed the entire outcome of the situation was ironic. I could have said one thing differently and maybe I wouldn't be so sick of myself. Maybe I wouldn't want to throw up when I look in the mirror, or maybe I'd speak up for myself. Maybe if the teacher's threats didn't loom over my head the whole freaking time, I could do it. I could ask for help. I could get out of here. But I feel trapped. I feel dirty.

I feel stuck.

I feel sick.

I feel tired.

All because of me. It's because of myself I feel this way, and as I stand right next to these people, I feel like I cannot talk to them anymore. I cannot trust them anymore, and it's because of the woman right in front of me. But I can't be mad at her because she's done so much for me and her mother is dying.

Her mother doesn't deserve this.

She doesn't deserve this.

None of these people deserve this.

But on the other hand, I do.

I've been so selfish and focused on myself that I hadn't noticed the people that helped me get where I am today. The people that worked behind the scenes like Miss Abby, Jeff, Evelyn, all of them. This whole time, I had been thinking my so-called "talent" had taken me places, but I don't have a single drop of that.

But why am I talking about me when I should be thinking about Mrs. Miller?

My first dance teacher was on her deathbed and there was nothing I could do about it.

All those dance privates and the birthday gifts. The way she'd take me to the park when I remembered the whole routine. I'll be the only one with those memories from now on.

She's leaving.

And she's not coming back.

"But she's gonna be-- but she's gonna be so much better, you know?"

I really hope that's the case.

"There are good dance teachers, and there are bad teachers." Miss Abby spoke up as Madison walked back to her position. I looked over at her for a moment ― wanting to comfort her ― but I simply wrapped my arms around myself instead. "But every dance teacher has to love children. They would never do this job. There are a million other jobs that you could do besides this."

A sob then broke from inside me and I covered my mouth with my right hand. My shoulder shook slightly as I continued sobbing. I closed my eyes and felt as the warm tears continued to roll down both of my cheeks down to my neck. Some of the tears were successful to get through my weak hand and rolling down to my mouth. I instantly felt the salty feeling in my mouth but I didn't attempt to wipe my face.

A white tissue then appeared in front of me and I looked over at Madison. I grabbed the tissue but then quickly handed it to Kalani instead of using it myself. However, as soon as I did that, I immediately regretted and noticed the way Madison got upset by the simple interaction. Thanks to that, I started to feel guilty at the same time I cried and my stomach started hurting.

Miss Abby continued talking. "My mother, even at her age, still has people working in the entertainment industry. You never know where it's gonna stop, and you never know what you're gonna end up doing. This career could take you onward and upward to a million different things, and that's why I believe every child should dance."

Then why do I feel like this career is going to kill me? How many sacrifices do I have to make before I actually make it out there? How fair is it that I cut everyone from my life and you continue as if nothing was happening, but most importantly, why do I feel like you're going to hurt me every time we're alone? Why do I still have the ghost-feeling of the nails digging onto my skin, or why do I still feel your hand grabbing my chin?

Why do your words echo through my head every day, and why do I feel like I'm just a puppet in your game?

"Kendall, you're doing a solo. It is called "Dream It". I want you to dream that your feet are stretched, got it?" The teacher resumed with fake enthusiasm. "Nia, the name of your solo is called "Damsel in Distress". It is a musical theater piece. Duet. Chloe and Kalani. The name of the duet is "For You, Too". And, the group routine. Right now, everybody's in it. The group routine is called "Bollywood and Vine". Like Hollywood and Vine."

Miss Abby left within twenty minutes after starting to work with the routine, leaving Gianna in charge. The dance was way different from what we're accustomed to doing, but I hoped it would do well. After all, the teacher's only happy with first place, and with everything going on, I think everyone's going to try their best to help the routine win this week.

The following day, we started earlier than usual. We had less time to do school so we could have more time to dance. The other girls were talking about Mrs. Miller, talking about all the times they had with her, but I didn't join. I was sure that if I opened my mouth I would let out yet another sob and start crying again, and with my reputation around the studio not being exactly "Evie Turner", I should simply keep my distance from the rest.

The reason we started earlier was because of the audition for Mackenzie's music video, "It's A Girl Party", which was definitely a bubble-gum pop song, at least judging by the title. Due to Miss Abby being her manager, they were going to work together with the audition process--

"We talked with your agent, what was her name? Kaia? You know, red hair and green eyes?"

"Kara. She has dark brown hair and brown eyes."

"Exactly-- I still don't get why you didn't choose me."

--And it wasn't even guaranteed that the rest of us would be in the video. We had to hope and see what happened.

With the number fifteen pinned on my black leotard, I watched as the audition started off with Kendall. The music was incredibly upbeat, so I guessed correctly with my assumption. It also meant that the moves should be in a jazz style. There was also a black and red mat ― typically used for the many acrobatic classes that took place in the studio ― spread in the middle of the room, so we didn't have to worry about hurting ourselves if we decided to do any tricks.

Surprisingly, the auditions went by quickly and we were soon standing in a line in front of the table Mackenzie and Miss Abby worked at. "So, number six, you and your mom can leave. Thank you very much." She looked over at another girl, Kalani. "Nineteen, I am gonna use you to do some of the stuff on the bed with the younger people. Same with number seventeen."

Miss Abby then spoke quietly to Mackenzie as the girl noted down something in her small notebook. She flipped the page back as she continued writing with the blue pen.

"Number thirteen." She looked back at us. "We feel that you may be better served as an assistant during the shoot rather than actually on camera."

Looking up for a moment, the young brunette then narrowed her brown eyes as she looked down at her sister. "Maybe she should be on camera..?" She turned her head over to her right to look at the teacher and nodded. "Yeah."

After some more discussing and cutting, they were finally done and the ten chosen dancers were all lined up. "Everybody, congratulations. You will be dancing in the video."

We quickly resumed the group dance rehearsal and the excitement subsided. The group rehearsal was over once Miss Abby cut Nia from the group because of two things: lack of costumes and focusing on solo.

The last day before the competition was not calm and quiet at all. It started off with even worse news about Mrs. Miller, followed by the mothers being upset that the Frazier girl had been pulled from the group routine, and then the big finish ― seemingly ― was a board with headshots of some girls that aren't from the ALDC. All eight of our headshots were on the bottom of the board and eight headshots of the other girls were pinned throughout it. They also had taped on the bottom of each headshot with their respective names and age.

But the one I instantly recognized ― and made Kalani gasp ― was Lexi's photo in the middle of it all. At the bottom of her headshot, it read: "Alexis C. Price, age fourteen".

There were some others, such as "Sarah M. Reasons, age thirteen", "Jade Cloud, age fourteen", and an old face, "Fallon Chapman, age eleven".

Later on, as Nia and Kendall rehearsed their respective solos, Gianna let me know that I'll be working with my confessionals for the next couple of episodes, which made me feel a little confused. We usually work with the confessionals on Tuesdays and it's also the day we have the pyramid. Sometimes it's Mondays, but today's Friday. This wasn't a confessional day.

Supposedly, my mother was busy and couldn't drive me, so I was taken by Gianna before she had to head back to the studio. I was dropped off at the so-called "Dance Moms Headquarters", which is the place we do homeschool and do the confessionals. It also used to be a dentist's office that closed back in early twenty-eleven, and they've used it since later that same year.

After they were done with my hair, makeup, and outfit, I walked into the familiar room with a million costumes and colors throughout it. I sat down on the white stool and spotted the camera. While they worked with the final touches, I was handed a bunch of papers stapled together. I immediately furrowed my eyebrows in confusion but eased as soon as I identified what it was--

Then I felt even more confused.

I flipped the front page and read some of the lines: "I felt like throwing up, but I ended up winning, so I think it was worth it", "Abby started comparing me to Kalani, and it's kinda hilarious, actually. You'd think she'd compare two people in the same level", "Of course, Maddie's always telling the moms everything. Can't she just shut up for once? She doesn't need to be a crybaby for literally everything", and "So I'm on top of the pyramid and I don't even get a solo, but Nia and Kendall do? It's unfair".

Feeling sick to my stomach, I stopped reading and looked up, noticing Jeff standing right next to the camera. "Why did you give me a script?"

"Why not?" He questioned.

"These are just me being mean to other people," I explained and then lowered my tone as I noticed his glare. "I don't wanna do that."

"Well," The older man clapped his hands together and sat down on his black chair. "You don't really have an option, remember? The contract you just signed gives us full control of what you say in the confessionals."

"The contract said that?" I questioned and he nodded with a smirk. "You didn't even give me a chance to read the contract. Your hand was literally covering it-- how was I supposed to read that--"

"But you signed." He interrupted as some other crew members entered the room. "And you might want to stop talking. We have a show to film."

Somehow, his glare was slightly more terrifying than the teacher's, and it was more than enough to make me stop talking and started faking my happiness again as I filmed some of the confessionals.

I was back to square one-- season one and had no control over what I said.

And after filming, I swallowed my guilt and tears as I sat next to Evelyn as she drove me back to the studio. Once we were done, I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt. "I think you might want to get used to it. It'll be a while, Genevieve."

"A while of what?" I managed to say, and my voice was slightly raspy.

"Everything." She simply answered, putting on her sunglasses, which were a bit too big for her face. "You have two more seasons of all of these things, so you'll have to step up to the plate."

My blood went cold. "Two seasons?"

"Didn't you read that in the contract?" She questioned without a single facial expression.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid--

With shaky hands and an even more nervous body, I walked back into the studio and started my way back to the dancer's den. On the way there, I heard some crying coming from one of the bathrooms and I halted to stop.

"Look, it's going to be okay." A voice said-- which I soon recognized as Kira's. "Have you told the kids about it?"

"I don't want to scare them, but I don't know if I can do it much longer." A crying voice replied. "And Evie was so happy about it. She was the one who wanted to sign it and was smiling during it. I tried to say something, but Evelyn--"

My mother.

"And it's like we're stuck." She admitted while sobbing. "Elle wants to leave but Evie wants to stay, but I'm gonna be here either way. Abby already tried to get Elle to sign a contract, but she refused and left the room-- I don't know about Evie. She told me that she was getting tired, but then she wanted to do it all of a sudden-- but when I was going to ask her-- Evelyn told me about the fucking lawsuit thing again, but I'm trying to ignore them-- but they keep threatening the kids--"

Every single part of my body went numb at that moment. All the blood ran cold and I clenched my jaw rather harshly.

"We're gonna be here every step of the way," Melissa assured and then spoke in a lower voice. "They already tried to do the same with mine-- but we'll get through it, and then it's gonna be one of those stories we look back and laugh at while we're out for drinks, you know? Just, keep your head up and do what you have to do. I'm sure Zachary and you can pay for a good lawyer, and we'll help you if you can't, but please-- please tell the kids. It's better to tell them yourself than to have someone else tell them."

I heard some heels and I looked down the hallway to see Evelyn. My eyes brimmed with tears as she walked up to me and then whispered: "You're gonna ignore her--"

"She's my mom." I interrupted, raising my voice. "I'm not going to--"

She slapped her hand over my mouth and my eyes widened. I let out a soft whimper and felt as the tears betrayed me and started to fall once again. "You have to step up to the plate, or you'll see."

What the heck?

So there it was, yet another threat and yet another reason my day was ruined. Every time it was getting worse, and I could swear I could hear some clock ticks going in the distance.

And as I sat on the bus, unable to do anything, it was even worse.

After a whole speech about the woman, Holly suggested something. "Any Mrs. Miller stories or memories anyone wants to share?"

"I remember the first time I met Mrs. Miller," Kendall spoke up. "She had her bright blue shirt with a french twist and a big flower." Her mother laughed at the memory. "Her eyes were so blue."

"I remember, one time, when we were at a competition--" Chloe continued. "I came offstage from doing my solo, and she came over and she gave me a hug, and she said, um, that I've grown up so much and I'm becoming a-- an amazing dancer." Her voice broke.

"I remember that one day at the studio, um, I think Evie was rehearsing one of her solos and that