Category: The “Something” Series: Season 2

I laughed as I stood in a small circle around my friends at the surprise birthday party they threw for my 30th birthday. Cami had immediately put a “Birthday Girl” sash over my body once we entered the venue. Emerson had a drink ready for me, which I kindly dumped out when he wasn’t looking.

“You’re about to be lit for your dirty 30’s girl,” Cami shouted over the loud music as we all spoke. I smiled and was so thankful that even with the mess everything is in my life, there were some core things in it that remained the same.

I met Emerson when I came to New York for the first time with my dad when I was 17. We were in the same elective class, and we just so happened to talk to each other and become friends in the short amount of time we knew each other. As I got older, I learned that Emerson is my Aunt Jennifer’s grandson, so technically we are related in some way or another. I look over at Emerson, who has his arm around Cami as they talk to the other people at the party. I just hope they get married one day; they were meant for each other.

I feel someone tap my shoulder. I turned around to see it was Scott. I smiled and gave him a hug to greet him.

“Scott! Hey!” I greeted him as I broke the hug. He smiled as he approached me; I was happy to have him here tonight.

“Hey, Grace,” Scott said back. “Happy Birthday! Were you surprised?”

“Oh yeah,” I answered. “Cami had this huge lie planned out that she was secretly hanging out with you and Em didn’t know.” Scott’s eyes widen; clearly, he wasn’t in on the scheme.

“Emerson was in on it? Because if he wasn’t–“

“Oh no, he was,” I reassured Scott. “You and I both know that he loves that girl to death.” It was nice to see someone in my life actually happy with someone they loved. I look at Scott and smile as he speaks. I’m constantly reminded that this man was my high school sweetheart, and here we are now as adults genuinely happy for the paths that we are on.

“So, have you heard back from that company after your audition?” Scott asked. I shook my head no.

“It’s been a couple of weeks as well, so I doubt that I made it in,” I answered. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been doing nothing but look down at my phone everytime it rang or vibrated in my hand. The wait was making me anxious. I was worried that maybe my time was truly up; I’m literally standing in a venue celebrating my 30th birthday; what would anyone want from a dancer that is way past their prime in thier career? Maybe I should just stay in New York and go back running the academy. Maybe I was just meant to teach dance or manage a business related to dance, but I know a part of me knows that’s still not enough. But, as the weeks pass, the more I accept that maybe this is the end for me as a performer. That’s depressing to think on the day that you enter a new decade of your life.

“Let me buy you a drink,” Scott insisted. I didn’t say anything, and I don’t know why I haven’t said anything to anyone about my sobriety. We are literally in a venue with a bar; I guess it would’ve been weird to tell my friends “yeah, I don’t drink, but it’s cool that you chose a venue with a bar to celebrate my birthday in!” Scott walks to the bar and orders two drinks. I get nervous, trying to think of ways I can take the drink and dump it without anyone seeing me. It was exhausting to have to accept drinks with people thinking you are drinking them and having a good time. I wouldn’t risk my recovery though; not after almost losing everything dear to me–

Well, after losing something dear to me. I refused to allow anything else i loved slip through my fingers because of my alcohol problem.

Scott came back and handed me the drink. The alcohol smell nearly made me nauseous. I smiled through it, trying to hide my anxiety from Scott. He raises his glass, ready to give a toast of some sort.

“To wherever like takes you in your 30’s,” Scott said out loud. I raised my glass and cheered with him. He began to sip on his drink, looking at me as if he was waiting for me to do so. Fuck, Grace; how the fuck are you gonna get out of this one?

All of a sudden, my cellphone rings in my small purse. I look down and reached for it to look at the screen.

“Fuck, sorry I gotta take this; it’s my cousin,” I said. Scott shook his head and smiled.

“I’ll see you around, Grace,” Scott said as he walked away from me. I run towards the front of the venue so that i can actually hear and talk to Skylar on the phone.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Happy birthday, bitch!” Skylar happily said over the phone. I smiled; it was refreshing to hear that Skylar’s been in a good place after everything that happened in the summer.

“Thanks, Sky,” I responded. “How are you holding up? Everything’s going good over there?” Skylar laughs before she says anything back.

“Oh like you don’t know,” Skylar said slyly. I scrunched my eyebrows together and placed the drink on the bench next to me.

“What?” I asked, not understanding where Skylar was taking this conversation.

“I just wanted to call you to wish you a happy birthday, but I definitely don’t want to take away your time with you-know-who,” Skylar went on to explain. I was now confused; Skylar was not making any sense to me.

“Sky, what are you talking about?” The line went silent. I think Skylar finally realized I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Did he not get to you or something?” Sky asked. I was losing patience for Skylar’s cryptic language. I didn’t say anything until she continued. “I thought… I thought he went to you.”

“Who?”

“Jamie,” Skylar finally admitted. I haven’t heard that name or had anyone around me say his name in the time I was in New York. I didn’t expect Skylar of all people to mention his name after everything that happened in California.

“Why would he be in New York?” I asked, anxiously waiting for her answer. I heard Skylar sigh into the phone. “Sky?”

“I’m sorry, I thought when Shawn came to California, Jamie would’ve went to New York–“

“Wait, hold on,” I interrupted Skylar, trying to understanding what was even happening. “Shawn?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew that already. Shawn came to California a couple of weeks ago. He’s staying. He’s looking to get all the paperwork done and stuff to live in America. We’re… working things out,” Skylar confessed. My mind did not process everything that was being said to me. I didn’t know Shawn was coming back for good, and I know Skylar’s the reason he came back. It hasn’t even been three months since they left to go back home, yet Shawn didn’t even hesitate to come back to America. Shawn came back for Skylar because he loves her. I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting nothing but to disappear and never have to have this conversation again. “I’m sorry, I… really thought Jamie was going to New York when Shawn came to California.”

“Listen, Sky; I’m actually out with my friends for my birthday, so I’ll talk to you when I get the chance,” I simply responded. I didn’t want to get into it any further with Skylar and quite frankly, I didn’t want to hear how happy Skylar was. She sounded like she had the whole world in her hands; she technically did if that world was Shawn back in America. How easy was it for him to make the decision to come back to America to be with the woman he loves? Did he go back to Korea and immediately knew he wanted to be with her? Is that what a man does for a woman when he loves her and wants to be with her? Was I just not able to be loved the way that Shawn loves Skylar? I felt sick to my stomach.

I grew angrier the more I thought about it. I was jealous of Skylar. She had her heart broken for 2 months before he went back for her and told her he was now staying for her. She sat with her broken heart and got it out back together, and here I was; traumatized at anyone leaving my life because the person I loved,; the person I thought loved me back, kept leaving for months, even years on end. A man will go after what he loves if he really loved it to begin with.

I looked at the drink next to me, still there just waiting for me to drink it. What’s the fucking point? My life was never meant to be stable; it never was stable to begin with, so why keep trying to make it stable. I grabbed the drink from the bench and swirled it around. You’ll forget tonight even happened, Grace. You’ll forget that you know that Jamie never loved you enough to come back for you, even after he knew it destroyed you.

Before I’m able to taste the alcohol hit my lips, my phone rings again. I stop, looking down at my phone to a phone call from Morgan, my dance instructor from California.

“Hello?” I answered the phone.

“Grace!” Morgan called out. “I apologize if I’m calling you at the wrong time, but I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to let you know this.” I waited for Morgan to tell me whatever she needed to tell me so that I can spend the rest of my night breaking my sobriety; one that only Jamie really knows about. It kills me he’s the only one that knows just how important my sobriety has been to me. Fuck it.

“You got picked for the production,” Morgan spat out. “You’re going to be a part of the biggest dance production in the world, Grace!”

I dumped the drink into the bush behind the bench.

— End of Season 2 —

When I turned 20, I decided to leave Julliard to pursue law. I went to my classes every single day and felt like I didn’t belong. There were better dancers than me, and there were dancers that wanted it more than me. In a way, I felt like I was taking a spot away from another dancer that lives and breathes that shit. My father, who was now living in New York after transferring from his job, was excited about my career change. He questioned where this interest for the justice system came from, but nevertheless, he was happy that his only child would follow the path he took. My mother; not so much.

My mother was disappointed. She didn’t voice out that she was disappointed, but she definitely felt different when I came home from my classes and told her that I have to study judicial cases and not new ballet positions. She only warmed up to be becoming a lawyer when I was working on my first intern case, where I met Max. I wonder if she only warmed up to it because I was happy for that period of time. Maybe she thought that I had gotten my life together and if it would be different for me.

Instead, I am sitting in Max’s house, about to be 30, and sitting directly from his soon-to-be wife as my daughter runs from upstairs with Max, happy to see me after a long time.

“Mommy!” Willow happily calls out as she runs towards me. I put on the biggest smile and give her a hug.

“Willie!” I called out in response. Maybe it was because Willow was still a young child, but she hands down gives the best hugs I ever had gotten. They make me feel the warmest, and for a split second all of my doubts and worries vanish. Willow steps back from the hug and reveals what she was hiding behind her back.

“I made this for you, Mommy,” Willow said as she held out a piece of paper folded in half, resembling a birthday card. I take the card and look at it; it was a “Happy Birthday” card that she had made out of construction paper and tons of glitter. I smile, looking at the stick figures on the page. Willow points at them, naming who is who. “That’s Daddy, Mariam, me, and you!” I look up at Max and Mariam and smile. Max smiles back, but Mariam begins to speak.

“I told her she didn’t need to put me on there–“

“It’s fine,” I cut off Mariam. “You are a part of her family.” Mariam smiles, and for once I smile back at Mariam. She’s been amazing with Willow, and I’m thankful that she still feels the need to include me in holiday gatherings with her, Max, and Willow. I think Max truly found his soulmate with Mariam. She balances him out perfectly, and that’s what Max always wanted; was to have balance.

“Do you have any plans for your birthday tomorrow?” Max asked.

“Emerson and Cami invited me over for a game night,” I answered.

“That should be fun,” Mariam chimed in. “It would be fun to go out with your friends and have a couple of drinks!” I looked at her, now uncomfortable with the conversation. I don’t know why I expect everyone to know that I’m sober. No one knows besides Skylar. And Jamie.

Skylar took my sobriety seriously until it began to hinder her young and carefree lifestyle. I still remember having arguments with her about it; she wanted to have alcohol in the house for the people she would bring over. She swore she was aware of my feelings and my struggles with alcohol, yet she would always include me in things that contradicted all of that, like that one night at The Voyage.

Once I told Jamie, it was like it was embedded in his memory that I was now sober. He made sure that anything he took me out to did not have alcohol involved. He always voiced out that we didn’t need any alcohol, especially in places where it was only appropriate to drink alcohol with your meals, like those fancy restaurants. I get sad thinking about Jamie, so I looked back at Mariam and smiled back.

“Yeah,” I simply answered.

…

“Emerson and his last-minute requests,” Cami said to herself, annoyed. “Like I told him to get the fucking cake after work yesterday, and what does he do? Fucking forget.”

“This is your sign that you should marry him,” I playfully say. Cami rolls her eyes as we walk down a block in Brooklyn. “I mean, you guys are already raising a tiny human together.”

“That is becoming like his dad every single day,” Cami emphasized. “But tonight’s not about me and Em’s fear of marriage; this is about your 30th birthday!” I scoffed and shook my head. Here I was in high heels, a dress, and my hair straightened by Cami since it’s her biggest wish to see me with straight hair… Cami was eccentric, to say it nicely.

We stop at this random place, not really knowing where we were. Cami turns around and looks at me.

“Okay, so Em doesn’t know this, but I typically stop here to… y’know,” Cami said in a cryptic way. My eyes widen, a little worried in what she will say next. “I figured we can have some drinks with my friend before we go to our place.”

“What the fuck?” I spat out, grabbing Cami’s shoulder. “Cami, are you cheating on Emerson?” Cami rolled her eyes at me, which only got me angrier.

“Girl, he’s a friend–“

“He?!” I emphasized. “This friend is a dude?”

“Grace, relax! For God’s sake, I’m allowed to have guy friends and be in a relationship,” Cami explained. “Scott’s been a cool friend to me–“

“Scott?!” I said even louder. If it is who she’s talking about, it’s Scott Campbell; longtime friend of Emerson’s and my ex-boyfriend from high school. “How fucking stupid do you gotta be to secretly see one of Emerson’s friends?!”

Cami knocks on the random door, in which I immediately panic.

“Cami! What the–“

The door opens and a crowd of people jumped out from various places in the room, yelling out surprise. I look around and see almost everyone I know here in New York; Emerson laughs and stands in one corner, a couple of our mutual friends from over the years cheer with excitement, and even Scott is on one side of the room, smiling and clapping his hands as his girlfriend stands next to him.

Emerson comes running in my direction and wraps his arm around Cami.

“Yo, Cami is a fucking actress,” I said and laughed. “I really was about to slap the shit out of you!”

“Funny thing is that it was Em’s idea,” Cami said as she looked up at Emerson. “He really knows how to grind your gears.” I punched Emerson on his arm, in which he winced in pain.

“What was that for?” Emerson genuinely asked.

“For literally being the best asshole of a friend,” I teased as more of our friends began to come up to me to wish me a happy birthday.

When my parents married again, I was just about to graduate college. I remember going to my last semester class, and then immediately rushing across the city to meet my mother at the bridal shop. It was weird to be a part of this experience, considering the first time they got married, I wasn’t even born yet. My dad would tell me stories about how my mom was so upset the dress she wanted to wear didn’t fit her because she was pregnant with me. I can only assume he reassured her and called her beautiful; I mean, she was, now looking at those pictures displayed in my parent’s house. My mother was definitely nervous about getting married that year. I would spend my nights studying for my exams and hear her talk on the phone, expressing her worries to her friends. Thinking back now, I can understand her nervousness having been in her place once before. But, my mother was lucky; she had my dad be the man she was going to marry and if I knew anything about my dad, it’s that he never stopped loving my mom, even after the first divorce. If only I can be so lucky to find a man that would never stop loving me, no matter the fuck-ups I make in life.

I look at all of the pictures on the wall my mom has traveled to in her younger years; Paris, Italy, Switzerland, and other places I couldn’t even recognize. My mom displays her most prestigious awards in a glass cabinet in the living room where all of these pictures are in. They look expensive, and they look heavy. Any awards I had when I was a teenager are now sitting in a box in storage, in my parent’s basement. Maybe when I settle into a new place in the future, I’ll be like my mom and display those awards.

My mom walks into the living room with some coffee for the both of us. I walk over to the sofa and sit next to her, sipping the coffee she had made.

“It’s definitely getting colder these days,” mom said. I looked at her, not saying anything back. My mom had a way of trying to fill in the silence with things that didn’t really matter, like the weather. I knew she wanted me to talk about what happened, or the audition; whichever one I decide to talk about first.

“Yeah, it is,” I said and placed the mug back on the coffee table. “Thank you for letting me say here with your and dad while I’m in New York.” My mom flashed a tight smile, looking at me with the look that she needed me to speak more.

“You know you are always welcomed here,” mom started to say before immediately getting straight to the point. “I can’t say for other people in your life.” It made me laugh; I seriously picked up my sass from this woman.

“Yeah, I never thought Ari would be one of those that didn’t,” I said, a little sad at the fact. “Like, it sucks when your best friend really isn’t your best friend, y’know? I thought Ari knew me.”

“She did know you. Ari came around during the time when you were a lawyer, dating Max, and pregnant with Willow. She knew who you were; it doesn’t sound like she knew who you are now and some people can’t take that.” mom said as she adjusted on the sofa. I wasn’t convinced.

“But Ari was in my life when everything changed, mom.”

“But from my understanding, that’s when you and Ari began to have issues in your friendship,” mom pointed out. “I had a friend like Ari once. Her name was Ronnie; we knew each other since middle school and we were inseparable for most of high school as well. When I started dating your dad during college, she just had problems with every little thing I did, especially when it came to my dance career. She pretty much told me I was a shitty person for putting my dreams before my relationship with your dad. Once I had you, she was literally the worst; called me a shitty mother during a fight we had before I left New York. Told me I shouldn’t have had kids if I was just going to up and leave anyway,” my mom paused before she continued. I could tell that even after all these years, that friendship hurt her the most. I worry my friendship with Ari will hurt me just as much as hers did when I get older.

“That’s what Ari said,” I admitted. “Ari called me a shitty mother for leaving Willow behind if I went for this audition.” None of us said anything after that, but something was eating me inside and I needed to know. “Do you also think I’m a shitty mom for leaving Willow?”

My mom look perplexed, if anything. I was nervous thinking that maybe Ari was right. My mom took a deep breath before answering.

“I can’t judge anyone on how they raise their children because I couldn’t raise my own,” mom admitted. “I can only judge the way I did things and at 30, I wasn’t thinking about me as a mom. I blocked that from my mind as hard as I could. I did block it from my mind.” My mom was an honest woman, even when she said things that would hurt. I know it was in the past, but sometimes my mother seems to forget that her leaving when I was baby still fucks with my head, yet she talks about it as if everything is healed because things are good with our family. I appreciated her honesty, but I sometimes wish she was more cautious on the things that were sensitive. She looked at me to see if I was still listening to her speak. I was, so she continued to say what was on her mind. “You are doing more than I ever did, and that counts for something.”

“Why does it never feel like that though?” I asked. “Why does it feel like I’m a shitty mother, and why does it feel like a fucking chore to be a mother when it’s time to be a mother? I love Willow with every piece of me, but–“

“Then that’s it,” mom interrupted. “You still show up and be her mom because you love her. That doesn’t make you a shitty mom and surely a woman who doesn’t have kids of her own can say anything about anyone else’s children.” I looked at my mom, who I used to call by her first name up until I was 22, when my parents got married. I wonder if she loved me when I was younger and if she did, would it mean that she would’ve stayed? I love Willow, but I didn’t stay.

I took a deep breath and decided to change the subject. “I’m just glad the audition finally happened. I swear I couldn’t even sleep well the nights leading up to it.” My mom smiled, which was a relief to finally get out of sensitive territory.

“How was it though?” mom asked as she sipped her coffee.

“It was intense, to say the least,” I answered. My mom laughed before she responded.

“Well, these are dancers that were scouted for this audition. They are the nest of the best. I was also really nervous when I went for the audition when I was younger. You come across the best of the best in these auditions.” My mom adjusted her body more towards me on the sofa; I can tell she really was interested in what I had to say about the audition. “When do you find out if you got out through or not?”

“I think they said two weeks,” I answered. leaning back on the sofa.

“Oh wow, just in time for your birthday, huh?” my mom teased. I rolled my eyes at her as she laughed. These were the moments that I enjoyed having with my mother. “I think you’re going to get it if Morgan’s right about your dancing.” I nodded, thinking back at my time in Morgan’s dance studio. I was definitely in my element every time I would clock out of work and head straight to the studio. I remember the feeling back when I was younger, just dancing in the studio after school without a care in the world, and when my only concern is what outfit I want to wear to what competition. Dancing again has reminded me just how much it’s become somewhat like therapy for me.

“We’ll see. It’ll be nice though.” I answered. My mom smiled at me and continued to sip her coffee. Simplicity in complicated creatures, just like my mom and I.

Grace surrounds herself with people similar to her, or maybe she just gravitates towards people she sees herself in.

Meeting her best friend Ari for the first time when I was first in New York was interesting. They had met through the law firm Grace used to work at, so when I came to pick Grace up from the firm one night, Ari made it apparent that she carried strong opinions. Even though there were times Ari would say something that made Grace instantly react in a bad way, Ari would always have her back, just like a best friend would. Ari saw Grace the way I see Shawn and Kevin: they are my closest friends through thick and thin.

So, when Ari told me it was best if I let Grace go after she left New York in January, I thought that would be the worst feeling I would ever experience. I was wrong.

“What are you doing here?” Skylar quickly walked toward me and said in a hushed tone.

“I’m sorry if Shawn hurt you in any way, Skylar,” I immediately started to try to defend my friend; the one whose heart is back home in pieces because he had to break up with someone he truly loved. I understand. “It’s not his fault that things had to be this way.”

“I don’t give a shit about that,” Skylar said bluntly. It took me by surprise. “What are you even doing here?” I was confused as in why all of a sudden, Skylar was mad at me or concerned I was even there in the first place. What did Grace tell her? What happened when Grace went home the last time we spoke?

“I made a commitment to Grace,” I finally answered her question. “I told her I was going to be here for her showcase–“

“You know, you being here will just be triggering to her,” Skylar interrupted me to say. I scrunched my eyebrows together; what the hell is that suppose to mean? “And the last thing she needs is to have her night ruined because of you.”

“I don’t know what Grace told you,” I began, but I immediately stopped. What point was I trying to make this time? What could I have possibly done to make Grace tell Skylar I was the bad guy? Why do I even care; she’s not mine to care about.

“It’s not about what Grace has told me,” Skylar cut me off before I could even start up my sentence again. “It’s about everything that has happened that has affected her. She literally left New York to get away from you, yet here you are now bringing all that old energy shit back into her life.” I didn’t understand where this was coming from at this point. It was only just a month and a half ago when she called the number I left for Grace. She was dating one of my best friends. What changed? What made Skylar say these things all of a sudden?

“If you cared about her, you would let her go,” Ari told me that night in her apartment, moments after I found out that Grace left New York. When I was walking out, that’s when Ari finally spoke again. “Grace was happy with you, Jamie.”

I turned around to look at Ari one last time before I left the apartment.

“But it’s the things that make her happy that are her biggest downfall,” she continued.

“Grace was amazing,” I randomly said. Skylar didn’t say anything in response. “She was definitely born to dance.”

I walked out of the ballroom hallway and didn’t turn back. I was mentally exhausted. I was tired of thinking and worrying about Grace. I’ve done nothing but do just that for the last couple of years. Maybe Ari was right about Grace and me when Grace left New York. Maybe this thing between us; whatever this was between us, was dying out. Maybe I was holding onto something that was just hurting us even more in the end. Maybe the pressure to hold on was what was causing the pain. Maybe releasing it all, to finally let it all go, is the only way we can both heal. I have to let Grace go for good.

It scares me that this time, it doesn’t hurt when I say that. It actually feels relieving. Because it’s something coincidental; two people in Grace’s life that probably never even met each other before share the same idea about Grace and me. We are not good for each other. Maybe I should’ve listened to Ari. To Kevin. To Shawn. I shouldn’t have listened to myself.

…

I entered the front door of the place I was staying at. I saw luggage bags already sitting near the door; they looked like Kevin’s. I shut my eyes tight. I couldn’t believe that we were leaving to go back to Korea in less than 48 hours. Every time I had to go back, it felt like I was leaving a part of me back here. I was tired of feeling that way.

I walked up the stairs and entered my bedroom. I looked around the room that I stayed in fro the last month and a half. The room I would come in after being out at the pier with Shawn and Kevin. The room that the guys would barge in to wake me up on mornings that I left my alarm going off. The room where I would pick up Grace’s calls, and go through the closet where my clothes were trying to find something appropriate to wear. The room I fell asleep in whenever I texted Grace “good night” when she would stop responding. It felt surreal to know that all those memories will be left behind in this room.

Everything about Grace will be left behind here.

I look at my wrist and see the bracelet that Grace gifted me.

“I know I didn’t need to give you anything for Christmas, but I wanted to,” Grace said as she handed me a small, wrapped box with a bow on top. I look at Grace before accepting the gift.

“Where did you find the time to even get a present?” I asked, smiling down at the gift. “You know, you are working nonstop on a case.” Grace laughed and clapped her hands together. Her laugh was warm on this cold, winter day.

“I wanted to get you a little something because you said this was the first holiday you were away from home,” Grace explained. “So, I figured I could still bring some holiday joy and cheer to you.” I looked at Grace, being in awe. Christmas wasn’t for another two weeks, yet she felt the need to get me a present and bring some of the holiday spirit in my rented apartment, in the middle of a foreign city thousands of miles away from home. I felt warm. Cozy. Cared about; just how a home should feel like.

I opened the small box and saw what was inside. “Grace,” I began to say. I lifted the dainty, silver bracelet from the box with my hand. It was simple; nothing too flashy. It had one small charm on the end of it; a key.

I lifted the dainty, silver bracelet on my wrist. The key dangled as I lifted my wrist up in the air. I slip the bracelt off of my wrist and put it in the draw of the night stand. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of my life.

The house has felt empty since that night Kevin told us he was going back to Korea. None of us spent time together after that. The living room was empty, the kitchen was empty, and for most of the remaining week we had left in California, none of us truly sat down to have a conversation. Kevin spent most of his time on the phone with JooAh; I feel like that was the only time I see him smile these days. It instantly fades when he hangs up the phone.

Shawn has been in his room for most of the days left here in California; heartbroken and crushed. I know that feeling all too well, and I feel so bad for Shawn. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him with me to the Voyage that night. Maybe then he wouldn’t have met Skylar. Maybe then he wouldn’t have fallen in love with a woman that he can’t be with.

I look in the mirror and fix the collar of my button-down shirt. I brush the fabric of my slacks and look at the white sneakers I pair the outfit with. I slick my hair back, even though I want nothing more than to hide my face. I wear her bracelet even though I shouldn’t. I can’t help it; it’s truly become a part of me, just how Grace is. Was.

Kevin walks past my bedroom and stops to look inside. I turn around, not knowing what Kevin wants.

“You’re going out?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah. I made a commitment,” I answered, tidying up my room before I head out for the night. Kevin doesn’t move from the doorframe, so I stand in the middle of the room and just look at him. “Is everything fine?”

“I truly messed up, didn’t I?” Kevin confessed. I sympathized with Kevin; I know this was most likely because Kevin and Shawn were not speaking to each other. Shawn and Kevin used to be inseparable; I actually met Kevin through Shawn back in law school; I never understood how someone as introverted as Kevin became friends with someone as loud and energetic as Shawn. Their friendship worked, needless to say.

“You’re doing what’s right for you and JooAh, Kevin,” I answered. “I don’t think Shawn is mad at you for having to go back to her. He’s just–“

“He’s just in love with an American woman; I know,” Kevin finished my sentence. “But he’s acting like it’s my fault that they broke up, and it makes me feel like shit.”

“Shawn will eventually feel better; when he does, then you two need to have this conversation,” I told Kevin. It took Kevin and I months to put everything that happened in New York behind us. I know Kevin was just looking out for his friend when Grace and I weren’t on speaking terms. If he wasn’t so caught up in his own issues, he would’ve been the same way, knowing grace and I have spent time together here in California.

I pick up my crossbody bag and placed it on my shoulder. I turned around to exit the room.

“Have fun at your commitment tonight,” Kevin said. Heh, if only.

The first time I ever saw Grace was an accident. We had plans for dinner that night, and when I didn’t hear from her all day, I was worried. I watched her through the window of the studio, and if I didn’t know Grace’s presence as well as I do, I wouldn’t have thought the woman dancing was her. I still wonder what made her go into law instead of dance. Sure, she told me that she grew up watching her father working for the law and she was an amazing lawyer when she was one, but watching her dance was completely different. Grace felt like she was being her true self when she danced; the vulnerable, messy, loving woman she is. I already had fallen in love with Grace by that point, but I think I knew I loved her at that moment.

I arrived at the venue where Grace’s showcase was being held out. It was interesting to see so many important people sitting i ne room, watching young dancers showcase their talent.

“It’s in the Vermont Palace downtown,” Grace said as I wrote the address down on my phone. The sun was setting, and Grace was gathering her things to head to practice after having dinner. “It’ll be nice to have a familiar face in the audience.”

“Is Skylar not going to be there?” I asked. Grace shrugged her shoulder.

“Who knows,” she answered. “She’s busy with Shawn these days. I’m not mad at her or anything, but when she’s in this deep, she doesn’t remember anything she has to do or what others need from her.” I laughed, getting up from the table with her.

“Come on,” I looked at Grace. “I’ll drive you to your practice.”

I take a seat towards the back of the venue. The stage is lit with bright lights while the rest of the room is dark. A woman walks out and introduces herself as the co-founder of the academy, Morgan Kelly.

“Welcome to this season’s showcase, everyone. Our dancers have worked endlessly these last couple of months, and with their talents and determination, you are all are in for an amazing show. Whether you are friends or family of the dancers, or people within the business, we are happy to have you here tonight,” she greeted. Everyone clapped, and she spoke once the applause died out.

The dancers were amazing, to say the least. They all were so passionate and elegant about it. You can tell these dancers dance because this is who they are as people, just how I can tell I am a lawyer; it’s who I am. I think I always meant to be one, and I don’t regret anything that I’ve done that got me to this place.

Grace, on the other hand, was meant to do more than settle. She is a dancer.

“Our next dancer is fairly new to our academy, but her passion and talent truly speaks for itself. Originally from New York, she co-runs her family-own academy, teaching the next generation of dancers to come and change the game forever,” Morgan said. “Please give a round of applause to our next dancer, Grace Ashmore.”

Grace comes out in a flowy red dress. Red was always the best color on her. She stands in front of everyone, bows, and then looks toward the ground. The song begins to play and she immediately starts to dance. Watching Grace dance sometimes feels intrusive, like no one should be watching her be so vulnerable on stage. So expressive. So free.

I think about the stories she told me as a kid in her hometown and how she did nothing but dance. She didn’t have many friends because she was so busy being a tiny dancer. She always knew her mother was a world-renowned dancer; I wonder how hard that was for her growing up. To follow in someone’s footsteps that you never got to know until later in life, when it was too late… Grace dances for her younger self. She does it to connect with her; the one who knew nothing but dance, and that was all there was to life. When Grace’s life was simple. That’s why it feels so wrong to watch her dance, but it’s too mesmerizing to not want to watch her be… her.

The song is a simple guitar playing in the background and a man’s voice singing softly. Her body moves to every syllable of that damn song. How does she make something so simple look absolutely beautiful?

Sometimes it hurts like growing pains, at times it makes me cry like the rain, But I’d cross the ocean if I have to; I’d run through the storm to get to you right now…

It’s so natural to love you.

It’s so fucking natural to love Grace.

Grace spins and her dress moves across her body. Maybe I’m biased, but Grace has been the best dancer to perform tonight. She’s more than just this dancer that wants to dance for fun. She’s not meant to keep her talent hidden like this. She deserves the world to see her dance. Grace Ashmore deserves the fucking world, even if she doesn’t believe she does.

The song stops and Grace finishes her performance. The audience gives her a standing ovation, including me. She bows and smiles out towards us. She’s the happiest when she dances.

Shortly after, Morgan comes back onto stage and lets everyone know that there is a reception in the other room next door. As friends and family gather their things and head to the reception, I gather my things to exit the venue. I don’t want Grace to know I’m here, not after what happened at the pier last weekend. It’s best if she didn’t know. Tonight was her night, and I don’t need it to be ruined because I’m here.

As I enter the main lobby of the venue I look up from my phone and towards the front door. Even with the crowd of people standing and hanging out in the lobby, my heart nearly stops to my stomach.

I see Skylar, and Skylar sees me.

Skylar went to the Bay Area to stay with my uncle Mason for a bit. I told her it was best to be around her family during this time, in which she reminded me that I was also family. A part of me felt really guilty though. Skylar only knew Shawn because of Jamie, and Jamie only came out that night because of me. In a way, I feel responsible for Skylar’s broken heart. I didn’t deserve to comfort her. Skylar was perfectly fine living on her own and living the life that was best for her. She had her heart guarded, and as soon as I move in and introduce her to a man affiliated with someone in my past, she got her heart broken. I broke my little cousin, and I feel absolutely shitty for it.

I left to go to the studio earlier than usual this morning. Eduardo of course mentioned it to me, and I tried my hardest to not show him that I was dealing with a lot on my plate. I guess he bought it and was able to get into the studio for the time being. It wasn’t until shortly after the studio door opened again; this time it was Morgan.

“Grace?” Morgan asked. She looked confused, looking at the schedule posted on the wall. “There’s no practice today; what are you doing here?” I turned around and stopped what I was doing. I turn the music off on my phone and take a break.

“Hey, Morgan,” I greeted.

“What are you doing here on a Sunday morning?” she asked again. I’ve known Morgan through my mother. My mom told me that she knew someone in California that ran an academy if I still wanted to dance while I was here. Once I came into the studio that first time, Morgan immediately said I was literally a copy of my mother. Sometimes that bothers me, considering sometimes I feel like the decisions I make are very similar to the ones she made when she was my age.

And this time was no different.

“I was looking for the application for that audition in New York,” I stated. Morgan cocked up her eyebrows as if she was shocked that I was asking about something I was strongly against doing about just a couple of weeks ago. “Are they still holding auditions for the team?”

“They are,” Morgan finally answered. “They start at the end of August.” She shakes her head in confusion. “Why the change of heart?”

“I’m going back to New York to see my daughter,” I began. “Might as well kill two birds with one stone and just audition for the thing.”

“You do know that even auditioning is a high commitment?” Morgan crossed her arms along her chest. “You get invited to audition because it’s most likely they can choose you.”

“And if they do, it’s still my decision whether or not I want to do it,” I answered back. Morgan looked unsure, which isn’t like Morgan at all. She was always coming back with things to say, and I can honestly say this is the first time I ever saw her speechless. I sighed to ease up the tension. “Morgan, I… I really want to try it out. I gotta do something for myself, y’know?”

“I know,” Morgan quickly answered. “But make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons; not because you’re trying to escape something you can’t currently handle.” She walks toward her office and comes back with the paperwork in her hands. She hands it up to me, which I take.

“Good luck, Grace,” Morgan simply said. I nodded as I placed the paperwork near my gym bag and continued to practice in the studio on my own.

…

“Yeah, mommy’s going to be in New York for a few,” I said on the phone as I sat outside of the cafe on my lunch break. The weather wasn’t too hot today; there was actually a nice breeze coming from the ocean currents that cooled things down.

“Can we go to the park and see the flower garden?” Willow asked. I couldn’t help but smile. I’m making plans to finally see my daughter after 6 months of video chats.

“Of course, we can, sweetie,” I said. “Put your papa on the phone for me. I love you,” I said to Willow.

“I love you too, mommy!” Willow happily said. It’s like a wind of warm air hit my face hearing her say it so confidently. A couple of minutes later, Max speaks on the phone.

“She’s excited you’re coming back,” Max started out. “Are you staying with your parents while you find a place to live when you get back?” The thought didn’t even cross my mind. He thinks I’m going back for good.

“I’m staying with Ari until the audition is over,” I corrected him.

“Audition?” Max seemed completely confused. This was the hardest part about going back to New York: having everyone think you’re coming back for good. I can’t go back for good.

“I’m coming back to New York for this dance audition,” I started to say. “Once that audition is over, I’m coming back to California.”

“But there’s no one in California, Grace,” Max stated.

“My cousin Skylar? Sheesh Max, where do you think I’ve been living for the last 6 months?” I was growing annoyed with him.

“Skylar is an adult, she was fine living on her own before you went there,” Max was trying to fight me on this like he always had. “You really should be here in New York for your daughter,”

“My daughter is completely fine with or without me being in New York; clearly,” I spat.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Max asked, now mad. Max always got mad at me for the littlest things. When we were together, he could never understand why I did the things I did because he couldn’t imagine himself making those decisions for himself. He quit the law firm once Willow was born; I decided to stay. He put his dreams and himself second once Willow was born; I didn’t. Despite him leaving England and staying in New York for the sake of his daughter, here I was; traveling across the country to California just because New York was too much for me.

“It means she’s doing fine with you and Miriam playing house,” I answered. I was angry at this point. I was coming to New York for this audition and to see my daughter. It shouldn’t matter to Max what the fuck I decide to do with my life; as long as I was still a mother to our daughter, that’s all he should care about.

“You’re her mother for God’s sake,” Max responded. “Do you know how heartbroken she’s going to be when you have to go back? She starts Kindergarten in September–“

“I know she is, Max!” I yelled back. “You don’t think I know that?”

“This is her first time she will be in school for a full day, Grace,” Max emphasized. “She’s going to want the comfort of her mother there when she’s crying and wanting to go home!”

“I’ll be there for when she starts school, Max. The audition doesn’t start until the end of August anyway,” I explained to Max. That was one thing I wasn’t going to allow Max to do: make me feel bad for parenting in a way I feel is best for Willow. I look at the time on my phone before pressing it against my ear again. “Look Max, I have to go; my lunch break is ending soon. I’ll talk to you later; tell Willow I love her.” I look at the boardwalk to see a familiar person walking toward the direction of the cafe. I immediately hung up the phone and kept looking at the person. They stopped once they saw me watching them walk close toward the cafe.

“You have a lot of nerve coming here, Jamie,” I said, not impressed with Jamie’s appearance here at the boardwalk. He sighed, which wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but he also didn’t look like himself. Is this what he sees whenever I’m not feeling myself? To be quite honest, it’s crazy just how much Jamie and I know each other.

“Can we talk? It’s important that I talk to you, “Jamie said.