Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

A Black Sheep Fool’s Paradise: A Rosie Monologue.

“Fucking finally,” I said as I look out the window to see the ‘Welcome to New York’ sign crossing the bridge into the city. Even though its nearing 7 at night, the city lights are bright and illuminating the streets with it. It’s truly the city that never sleeps.

“The drive is nothing to joke about,” Hudson added as he drove the small car off of the bridge and onto a main street. “Do you need help bringing your stuff to your dorm room?”

“No, I’m good,” I quickly answered, trying to not sound like i was in a panic. Hudson doesn’t know that I actually live off-campus in a place in Brooklyn that cost half as less as sharing a dorm room with another college student. I take most of that tuition to pay rent at my actual place, and then the extra money is what I use to survive off of. Needless to say, it feels like I’m living in a dorm with the way I have to manage my money in order to eat dinner and shit every night. Hudson doesn’t add anything to the conversation; he nods his head and continues to look at the road ahead. A part of me hates lying to Hudson, but I also don’t like to follow anyone’s rules of life.

“Do you still talk to that guy from your Art History class?” Hudson randomly asked. I immediately knew who he was talk about and I grew annoyed. Why is Hudson bringing up that asshole?

“He was just a classmate,” I answered, downplaying my former friendship with Micah. “He just helped me get back on track when I was out.”

“I thought you two were friends,” Hudson recalled. “I mean, he came to the hospital a couple of times to see you and everything.” I looked at Hudson, feeling confused.

“I don’t remember that,” I said, looking back out towards the car window.

“Well I do,” Hudson emphasized. “I think anyone that saw you as a friend would’ve came to the hospital when you were hurt.”

“Yeah, well people do things just to say that they did it,” I spat back. “You, of all people, should know that, Detective.” Hudson just sighs, knowing to back out of an argument that he knows he won’t win in. He learned that the hard way one night searching the different areas of Downtown Philly, in hopes that we’d find his daughter living her life as a runaway teen. He insisted that she wouldn’t be the type to not come home, even if she was kidnapped all of those years ago. It was hard for him to convince me that anyone that had a home was smart enough to go back when they realized they cant live on their own like that. After taking him to a couple of popular areas for runaways, he finally understood there was more than what meets the eye about this life.

We finally arrive back to campus; I quickly take out my bags from the trunk of the car before Hudson gets out to help. Once Hudson gets out, all of my bags are out and surrounding me. I simply smile to act the part of the “college student living in college dorms” role.

“Thank you for the ride back to New York,” I thanked Hudson. “I would still be on that damn train ripping out my hair.”

“You know I’ll always be here to help you out,” Hudson reassured me. I just smiled as a response. “Call me tomorrow when you get yourself situated. Be safe, Rosie.” Hudson tussled my hair before he walked back to his car. As he kept looking back at me, I threw on a smile and waved ‘bye’ at him. He gave me one final look before starting up the car and driving off. My smile immediately vanishes. I take out my phone and make a phone call, putting on my most feminine-sounding voice.

Moments later, Prescott’s porsche pulls up in front of the college; I immediately smile and walk towards the car as he rolls down the window on the passenger’s side.

“Hey, babe,” I greeted Prescott.

“Hey,” Prescott said back, but was looking at the bags behind me. “Are all of those your bags?” I turned around to look at them.

“Yeah,” I said, turning back around towards the car window. “I’m back in New York for the semester.” Prescott looked annoyed, which made me feel defensive. “You knew i was coming back from Philly.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize you had so much shit with you,” Prescott pointed out. I rolled my eyes at his response.

“If they bother you, then just drive me back to my place and I can drop them off before we had to your place,” I suggested. Prescott instantly shot the idea down.

“I’m not going around that roach infested building,” Prescott shot down.

“You’re exaggerating,” I simply answered, knowing at this point that Prescott had opinions about my place in general. “It’s not that bad.”

“I’m not about to be followed by the media to a place with a girl that lives in a place like that,” Prescott emphasized, clearly annoyed with the situation. He sighed, before he opens the trunk of the car up. “Just put your shit in there.” I don’t say anything back to him. I walk back to my luggage and begin to put them in Prescott’s trunk one-by-one, without Prescott’s help.

I get into Prescott’s car before he drives off. The radio is low and the dashboard is completely lit. t reminds me of the city lights in a strange way.

“Happy to be back?” Prescott randomly asked me. I looked at him and nodded.

“Ecstatic,” I answered.

“A simple ‘yes, babe’ would’ve been fine,” Prescott stated as he shook his head displeased. “Did you enjoy your time back in Pittsburgh?”

“Philly,” I corrected him. “I’m from Philadelphia.”

“Same thing; they’re both in Pennsylvania,” Prescott emphasized.

“No, they aren’t,” I corrected. “Pittsburgh is literally across the fucking state–” At the red light, Prescott finally faces me.

“For fuck’s sake; can you drop it?” Prescott stated, mad now. “Like I’m trying to have a simple fucking conversation with you and you’re making it difficult.” I don’t say anything back; I actually felt bad He did ask you if you had a good time, which means he cares.

“I’m sorry,” I began to say. I sighed once the light turned green and Prescott had to look back toward the road. “Philly was good.” I look at Prescott, and to my surprise he flashes me a gentle smile as he drives.

“That’s good that you had a good time, ” Prescott began to say. “But I’m so glad that you’re back.” His words make me smile and feel warm inside. Maybe he’s finally trying to be good to me. Maybe he’s changed since I last saw him a month ago. Maybe he finally wants to be a real couple with me.

Well maybe people do things just to say that they did it. But his actions always spoke louder than his words.

The Teenage Monologues: Season 2

The Rockstar’s Girlfriend: A Prologue.

I bump my head along to the song that Aaron and his band are playing on stage. It was surreal to be watching a live performance on the sidelines while being backstage; it made me feel important and cool to watch the show just feet away from the stage. Every now and then, Aaron looked towards the side of stage at me, smiling as he played his guitar and sang the songs. It made me feel giddy and definitely made me blush.

After his band finishes the song, the audience applauds and cheers out loud. The guys on stage take a sip of water from their bottles before they say anything to the audience. Aaron is the first to start talking.

“What’s up, Gravesery Hall!” Aaron shouts out as the crowd goes wild. “That’s what we like to hear! Anyway, thank you guys for coming out tonight and letting us perform a couple of our classics for you guys.” Aaron looks over at me before he looks back towards the audience. “We have some awesome new music coming your way, including with this amazing and talented vocalist I’ve got the pleasure in getting to know and falling in love with.” The audience reacts in an ‘aww’, and my face is instantly hot from blushing. “Fun little fact about this insanely talented vocalist,” Aaron began to say. “Today just so happens to be her birthday!” Aaron not only is looking at me, but he begins to walk over to me, which instantly makes me nervous.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Aaron just smiles and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the stage. It happened so quickly, but I now found myself standing on the stage with Aaron’s band in front of a full audience.

“Give it up for Mollie, guys!” The audience cheers as I look out toward it; it was surreal to see so many people cheering someone like me… someone that they don’t even know. “I think it’s only right to sing happy birthday to Mollie, don’t you think?” The crowd reacts by cheering loudly. I hide my face with my hands, embarrassed with all the attention on me. I watch Aaron get his guitar ready, looking at me while still trying to talk through the microphone. “One, two, three!”

I look out toward the crowd and watch them sing ‘happy birthday’ along with Aaron. I look back at Aaron playing the song on his guitar while singing. For my last birthday, I spent it with my family and Milo didn’t even show up for it. I hated my birthday last year because I felt so alone on it. A year later, I’m standing on a stage with a band who’s lead singer is my boyfriend and is making the crowd sing with him. I may not know all those people out in the crowd, but to be a part of a moment that felt as real and genuine like this makes me feel good. Happy. Seen. Who would’ve thought Aaron Serrano would make me feel all of these amazing things? It sometimes even feels too good to be true.

The birthday song ends and the crowd cheers loud. I smile and bow as a thank you since there were literally no words to describe how I was feeling besides in love. I look at Aaron and smiled at him; of course, he returns the smile in the cutest and purest way.

“So,” Aaron starts to say once the crowd quiets down. “I think the best way to end the night is to have Mollie join us for one of those songs she’s been working on with us!” I looked at Aaron in immediate panic; of course I wasn’t preparing to sing in front of an entire audience tonight.

“I didn’t agree to this, Aaron,” I whispered in his ear. “I came here to support you guys.”

“This will be a great way to introduce you to the world, Mols,” Aaron explained. “They deserve to hear your voice.” I looked out to the audience as Aaron began to walk away from the microphone.

“What song are we singing?” I turned around to ask Aaron. He smiled before he answered.

“Your favorite one,” Aaron answered. I looked towards the audience with the microphone and stand in front of me. I took a deep breath before I said anything.

“Thank you for having me tonight,” I began to say. “I think we should end this night by singing a song about unapologetic being yourself by kindly telling the haters to fuck off.” The crowds cheers loudly as I look back at Aaron. He smiles as he starts playing the chords of the song.

I turned around to face the microphone and began singing one of the many songs his band and I have been rehearsing for the past couple of months. The beat of the drum vibrated the small stage we were standing on, and Aaron’s electric guitar echoed the small concert hall. I start to dance around the stage as I began to sing the lyrics to the song. This feeling being up on stage feels… good. It’s not the same feeling I would get dancing at competitions or recitals; for some reason this feels different. I feel open and… free.

I take the microphone off of the stand and began to get more into the song; the way I would when we would rehearse them at the studio. I dance around, leaning towards the edge of the stage to get close to the audience. I flip my hair away from my face and continue to sing the song, walking over to Aaron and fiercely dance to the guitar solo. He keeps his eyes on me the entire time he plays the guitar for his solo; it was… magical. I get sucked into his eyes and it’s suddenly just us. We’re performing for each other. Performing is our love language.

I turn away and finish the song at the microphone stand, belting the high notes toward the end of it. The song officially ends and the crowd cheers louder than before. I turn around to look at Aaron. He looks at me and sticks his tongue out while putting up the “rock on!” sign. It makes me laugh. He makes me feel so full.

I scroll through my phone mindlessly as I sit on the living room sofa. I can’t help but stumble across Sophie’s Instagram and watch her stories. Tons of books bought from a local bookstore, pictures of the winter scenery in the city. I’m glad that she’s been doing okay since the showcase; can’t say the same for me.

I exited out of Sophie’s profile and tap on Mollie’s. Her stories are her at a concert; I an only imagine it’s– what? I pause the story and look around the video. I see Mollie is on stage with Aaron Serrano and his dumb band. The video continues to play and the audience starts to sing “happy birthday” to Mollie. This is how she’s spending her birthday today? With that loser? I immediately exit the Instagram app and toss my phone next to me on the sofa. Jennifer walks into the living room to continue cleaning up.

“Everything okay, Milo?” Jennifer asked as she gave me a quick glance. I sighed before I answered.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I simply answered, trying to hide my annoyance from Jennifer. It’s always weird to be in a fight with Mollie; I always feel like I have to hide it from Jennifer since she’s Mollie’s older sister. Sometimes it’s hard to confine in Jennifer as a parent figure in my life when she’s related to the one person that I have most of my problems with.

“You sure?” she asked once more. “I mean, I would’ve thought you’d be with Mollie today for her birthday.”

“She had other plans,” I answered back, trying to not show her how annoyed I am that her ‘other plans’ are with Aaron Serrano; the boy she stupidly fell for. “So here I am.” I try not to look at Jennifer when saying this, but I can see from the corner of my eye that she keeps looking back at me, analyzing my expressions. Jennifer always did that; she always knew there was more than what I was leading on. That’s what made it hard to get things past her; it was easier to do with my dad.

“I see,” Jennifer simply stated as she continued to pick up toys from the floor. Once she got up, she sighed and looked at me. “How’s Sophie been? I haven’t seen her come around in awhile.”

“She’s fine,” I quickly said, lying through my teeth. “She’s in the city with her mom today.” The only good thing about social media is that when parents think you’re friends with someone you’re not really friends with anymore, you can always pretend you’re still cool with them by knowing what they are doing online. Jennifer paused to look at me before she walked out of the living room. She definitely knows more than she’s leading on.

I grabbed my phone from the sofa and click back to Mollie’s profile to finish watching her stories. Now she’s singing on stage with Aaron’s band. That’s annoying. If she wanted to be in a band, we could’ve created one ourselves. She continues to sing on stage, walking around and owning it like she’s done this so many times before. She looked natural being on the stage. Fuck, dude. She’s really good being a lead singer of a band.

I rolled my eyes and turned my phone off completely; I couldn’t keep looking at my former best friend living her best life being the rockstar’s girlfriend. I couldn’t keep looking at the person that Mollie turned into because she didn’t look anything like my best friend anymore. She’s older now, caring about her appearance and hanging out with a different crowd of people. With a boyfriend that was a horrible human being. I got up from the sofa and just walked toward my room.

“Milo?” Jennifer called out from the kitchen area. I don’t answer. I just enter my bedroom and close the door behind me.

Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: What I Learned Setting Boundaries With Myself.

Setting boundaries with others is one thing, but setting them with yourself is a whole other type of experience.

Ever since I began therapy in 2018, a topic of discussion that often came up was learning how to set boundaries with those around me. It’s no secret that I grew up being a people-pleaser; I always put the feelings of others before my own, even if I got hurt or silenced in the process. While the process of actually applying those practices into everyday life took years of trial and error, I can confidently say that I make my boundaries known and make sure they are heard for the sake of protecting my energy and my self-worth.

A lot of those boundaries unfortunately were enforced once I already made myself too available and too open in the relationships I had with people in my life, so most (if not all) successful “setting boundaries” stories were learning experiences, whether or not the outcome was what I expected it to be.

It really wasn’t until I had to learn that setting boundaries was not just an external thing I needed to do in order to better my mental health; it was also something I needed to do with myself.

Hi, my name is Liz, and I just recently started to set boundaries with myself. These are the things I’ve learned so far in doing so.

Let’s take it a few steps back before we just jump into this: setting boundaries is not a new thing for me to do, but the way I would set them in the past was still unhealthy for my overall mental health. In the past, setting boundaries was strictly an act of selfishness. My boundaries with people consist of me being completely one-sided and too protective of myself when really I was just hurting more in the end. It was either you respected my unrealistic boundaries that only accommodated my needs or you were cut out of my life. Cue 2016 Liz after graduating college and thinking I had my life all figured out.

Setting boundaries once being in therapy became more about setting them with the intention of challenging the social anxiety I’ve developed in those last couple of years into my early twenties. Again, transitioning the relationships in my life already to set these boundaries weren’t easy; especially for a person that still had to learn so much about myself and how my anxiety looked like on me versus everyone else. Many of those relationships ended because I simply didn’t know how to express what I needed out of them. I didn’t know how to express to others that the way I functioned had a lot to do with my anxiety disorder without never taking accountability for the shitty behavior I put on them. Even to this day, I’m learning to express this to others that will never fully comprehend how anxiety looks like on me; only I would know it completely.

Even after developing friendships later in my twenties and had a better knowledge about who I was as a person, I still struggled to set boundaries with people. It wasn’t because I was afraid to set them at this point in my life; it was because I was unaware that there were situations and points in these relationships that needed to have boundaries set early on.

It wasn’t until just recently that I realized that I needed to set boundaries with myself in order to know how to properly set them with the people around me.

I’ve known that I wasn’t always in the right when the relationships fell out. I know that just like everyone else I carry toxic traits that I’m not proud of. I know that I do things and say things that do not align with the energy I try to put out there, that I’m not proud of, and that truly act as the catalyst between me feeling better and me overthinking everything.

And jut like the “toxic people” you may need to set boundaries with, you also have to set them with your own “toxic person.”

For me, that includes actually blocking certain profiles on social media so that I’m not inclined to obsess and lurk to see how the people I cut out of my life are doing. It includes me thinking about the impulse decisions I make before actually doing them. It includes reminding myself that I am also capable of ruining my good energy by overthinking and allowing myself to do unhealthy things. Once I found ways to set these boundaries with myself, I find myself focusing on myself in positive ways. Whenever I feel myself slip into these bad and unhealthy habits, I remind myself that I could spend this time doing something beneficial and useful; something that enhances the good energy in me.

Since then, I’ve felt like there’s been so much more progress in my healing than previous times.

Setting boundaries with myself has shown me the type of boundaries I should be setting with other people. Boundaries, in the simplest form, are meant to protect us from things that affect us in a negative way. We set them so that we let others know what we will and will not tolerate, and I think we all need a better understanding of what that they mean for us by setting them with ourselves. By setting them with ourselves first, we’re learning if they need to be revised in any way before we project them onto other people.

I’m in no way saying that setting boundaries with yourself works with everyone. Maybe it’s not an universal thing that people may do, but for the type of person that I know I am personally, I believe that setting these boundaries with myself will allow me to let go of this belief that I am able to control what other people do or how they react to different scenarios and situations. While I know that for most of my life, I’ve been known to accommodate to other people’s feelings, I’ve also been known to not carefully consider what or when was the right time to enforce boundaries or do certain things just because I felt ready. I always need to control the situation even when I knew I couldn’t, because that also involved trying to control the other person in it.

Setting these boundaries with myself gave me the power to control how I should react and what I should say in situations that were triggering or bothered me. Instead of being reactive and controlling instantly, I now stop myself and ask questions to rationalize and truly understand why I am acting the way I am towards something. I ask, “if you know what’s bothering you, why and what about it did it make you feel this way? Have you thought about other possibilities before taking it personal? Does it serve you any good by allowing it to make you think and feel this way? What can you do to step back and gather yourself so that you are able to approach this at another time when you know you will not be so emotionally reactive to it?” For me, I really do ask myself if it serves me any good to allow something to damper my good energy, because 9 out of the 10 times, it’s not.

I’m not a stranger when it comes to setting boundaries, but I am definitely a novice when enforcing them in a positive, non-reactive way. I am still learning what works and doesn’t work for me, and how can I revise some of the key boundaries with people by enforcing them on myself first. So far, it’s teaching me a lot about what it truly means to protect my good energy, when if i have to protect it some myself.

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Something to Antagonize: A Grace Monologue.

“So,” I began the conversation with my mother sitting in her small NYC apartment on a hot, summer day. We eat Italian Ices that we picked up on our way back to her place after hauling my stuff to her apartment. “Dad once told me that you used to not let everyone see you dance. Why?” My mom looked at me, shocked that I knew that information.

“Your dad told you that?” she repeated back.

“He did,” I nodded. “He said he was lucky to be one of the few people you allowed see you dance; but, how could you have danced all over the world if you didn’t like people watch you dance?”

“I got out of my own head,” she honestly answered back. “I figured if this was something I wanted to do as a career, I had to open myself up to the world to watch me dance.” She looked down at her Ice and began to scrape it. “Your father was the person to help me get over that fear.”

“Really?” I asked, not knowing that piece of the information. “He didn’t tell me that.” She smiled at me.

“Your father had a hard time taking credit where needed,” she simply said. “He promised that he would come to every one of my college shows just so that I at least knew one person in the crowd. It got easier as the years went and by the time I graduated college, I was able to perform without every getting nervous or having 500 things on my mind.” The smile faded once she took a deep breath. “The first time that he didn’t show up to a show was when I was in India for the Dance Production I was a part of. I had a solo and everything and it broke my heart that he wasn’t in the audience giving me that comfort I sought out throughout my career.”

“Was that the gig you did after you left?” I asked, putting the pieces of my dad and her stories together. She didn’t verbally say anything back to me; she simply nodded.

I nervously fidgeted with my fingers as I stood backstage with the other dancers, warming up for the show to begin in 30 minutes. These last couple of days have felt like a complete blur; I’ve been in rehearsal to learn the dance solo for the production at early hours of the morning, completely immersing myself in dance. I told Skylar and Shawn that I would make up for the time we lost to hang out while they were both in the area. I also apologized to Sahim countless of times for cancelling on dates because I needed to rehearse more. In a sense, I felt like I was over-rehearsing, and now I was nervous that I was going to forget the steps when it truly mattered. I took a deep breath before I heard Aimee call out my name.

“Grace!” Aimee said as she walked over to me with Maurice. I hid my nerves with a smile before they could see me.

“It’s time!” I excitedly said, in which both Aimee and Maurice did a celebratory dance. “How are you guys feeling?”

“I feel so ready to go out there and fucking dance already,” Maurice said, loud enough so that the other dancers backstage heard him. “I feel like we’ve been rehearsing for this shit for decades.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Aimee chimed in before looking at me. It wasn’t long after that I see Sahim walking backstage with his equipment, looking for me. His eyes meet mine and he smiles. Aimee looks toward the direction I’m looking, which makes me blush. “Come on, Maurice; Grace is about to get her good luck kiss from her man.” I laugh and shook my head as they walked away. Sahim quickly greeted them as he walked toward me.

“Hey, tiny dancer,” Sahim said with the biggest smile on his face. “You’re ready for your big, grand solo?”

“Don’t remind me,” I sighed. “I feel like I’m going to puke up my nerves.”

“It’s normal,” Sahim reassured. “First night jitters.”

“Not for a dancer who just learned an entire solo in three days,” I mentioned, shaking my hands to release the nerves somewhere on my body.

“You got this, Grace,” Sahim reassured. “You definitely deserve your time to shine. You’ve honestly sacrificed so much to be here.”

“At what cost?” I said more to myself than out-loud, but Sahim definitely heard me say it.

“Your daughter probably thinks you’re the coolest fucking person in the world,” Sahim began to say. “She’s probably going to watch the live-stream and cheer you on because you’re her mom.” I look up at Sahim as he spoke. I didn’t mean to start tearing up, but I’m immediately looking up to not let the tears ruin the makeup on my face. Sahim goes into his pocket for tissue and quickly hands it to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to–“

“No, no; it’s fine,” I said as I dabbed the tissue lightly near my eyes. “I’m just grateful that even being so far away, she could see me dance.” I look at Sahim again and find him looking at me as I spoke. “I hope one day she can see me dance in person.”

“No doubt in my mind that she will,” Sahim reassured, placing a hand on my shoulder for comfort. “Tonight is the first night of the rest of your career to come; don’t let anything take that away from you.” I simply nodded as one of the assistants gives us a 5 minute warning before the show starts. Sahim quickly kisses my cheek unexpectedly.

“See you after the show, tiny dancer,’ Sahim smiled before he walks away from me. Once he disappears from view, I take a deep breath and take my place on stage. All the dancers are in place behind the curtain, waiting for the first number of the production to begin. I look directly ahead where there is a slight gap of the curtain that shows the audience. From what I can see, it’s a full house; people are dressed in formal attire and are chatting with one another. I wonder if mom saw the audience before her production. I wonder if she stood on stage, waiting for the curtain to open knowing the people she wanted there weren’t. I wonder what motivated her to even dance the way she did if eventually, no one that was actually important watched anymore?

I see the lights in the audience dim and the stage lights turn on behind the curtain. Before I could even register it, the curtains swing open and now the dancers are exposed to the audience. The audience applauds once we are seen. I look up from the ground and out to the audience once the first song begins to play. The dance finally starts.

The harmonies of the first song align with our moves for the first number. No theatrics; nothing distracting to us or the audience, we just dance. I don’t remember much once I started to dance, which was odd since I do nothing but think about everything all at once when I dance. It’s like this time I was just ‘Grace, the dancer’. I was a young girl in Virginia telling my dad that I wanted to dance like the kids on my favorite TV show. I remember the stage outfits that would hang up on the back of my bedroom door, staring back at me the night before a state competition. I see the trophies lined up in my room on shelves that my dad build once my bookshelf was full of different awards from different shows.

I remember dancing for my mother for the first time without even realizing she was my mom the first time I came to New York. It was the first couple of months of my senior year of high school and danced at a local academy while I was here. She was the choreographer of the academy at the time; I believe it was fate to meet her in that small rehearsal space. It was fate that we only ever met through our love of dance. I knew I loved it for the majority of my life and tried to mask it by doing something that was the complete opposite of it. I don’t regret the outcomes of what being a lawyer gave me, but sometimes I wonder what if I continued my dance career in college? Would anything be different about the way I live my life now? Would I even have Willow? If so, would I have left Willow the way my mom did? I notice the lights turn bright yellow; they twinkle on the stage lightly to give the illusion of stars. The first number ends with the dancers looking up toward the ceiling, at the stars.

No. I wouldn’t ever leave her. That’s what makes me different than my mother, no matter how alike we truly are.

I run toward the backstage and grab my water before heading to the dressing room. In passing, Aimee holds up her hand for a hi-five, in which I give one to her.

“Go kill that fucking solo, girl!” Aimee shouted. I smiled, running past the doors for an outfit change. The majority of the production was going amazing; most of the nerves left once I started to dance the various numbers of the production. It was tiring, but the feeling I have is one I want to feel for the rest of my life. I feel like this is the most focused I’ve been while dancing, even if I heard Skylar cheer from the audience a couple of times. Once again proving that you can’t take Skylar everywhere. I didn’t mind; it felt good to have someone you knew watching you dance in real time. I can only imagine how everyone at home is reacting to the production.

Once the styling crew finishes putting me in my stage outfit for the solo number, I walk to the vanity I’ve claimed for most of the rehearsals we had here. I had a couple of minutes before I had run back to the stage. I sat down and went through my dance bag, unzipping a section inside of the bag slowly. I pulled out a bracelet and rubbed the one charm attached to it; a key. I swallowed hard, knowing that this bracelet has sat in that pocket since I put it there packing for New York. I quickly put it back in the bag once I see the dressing room door open.

“Five minute warning, tiny dancer,” Sahim said, poking his head into the door. I smiled, walking toward him.

“Did you personally tell the assistant you were gonna give me the warning?” I teased. Sahim laughs but he’s clearly guilty.

“I wanted to see you before your first official solo performance of the production,” Sahim smiled as he leaned against the door frame. He looks at my outfit before looking back up at me. “You look beautiful for it.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking down at the sparkly golden outfit. “Do you think the headpiece is too much?” I joked, pointing at the ridiculous crown sewn into my hair.

“It’s perfect,” Sahim said. “Like the person wearing it.”

“You’re perfect,” Jamie said after kissing me in my apartment for the first time.

Sahim slowly leaned in to kiss me. “Two minute warning,” he whispered. My eyes widen, quickly running past him to head backstage before the number started.

I watch the dancers begin the number from the side of the stage. I’m beginning to feel nervous and the thoughts are pouring back into my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to forget Jamie’s words echoing in my head. Sahim. Not Jamie. At this point, I was angry; why the fuck would I let the words of a man that broke every part of my heart get to me on such a night like this? Sahim is the one that knows the real me, the dancer, the one bettering herself for the life of her family; he made me feel like a human being again, like I can love again–

The lights on the stage dim and a spotlight appears on the side that I’m standing on. This is the present, Grace, and the rest of your life. Live in it. The music slows down and I finally enter the stage for the dance solo.

And when you hurted, was I vindicated? The lyrics of the song were the only evidence of sound heard in that moment. I’ve hurt so many people to get where I am. I hurt my father, now reminding him of my mother at my age, doing the things that broke their marriage up all those years ago. I hurt my mother, not listening to her advice of getting into dance when I saw it through her eyes that she wanted better for me than this. I hurt Max, I hurt Ari, I hurt Scott and Emerson and Cami and Skylar and everyone else that I left behind because I was too afraid to stay in one place. I hurt Willow, for not always being her mom first before anything else. I even hurt Sahim for never telling him the truth about my past life; one that I’ve been too scared to speak into the universe again.

I hurt Jamie, for forcefully leaving him in that past, knowing that it wasn’t always an easy task. It was nearly impossible to.

You left me on my knees, heartbreaking.

I clunched my chest with my fists, dancing to every beat and word of the song, allowing the dance to completely take over my body. For once, I allowed the dance to depict all of the things roaming through my head; the emotion, the angst, the disappointment… the forever healing that’s inevitable for a person like me.

I won’t bleed for your love, I won’t bleed; I won’t bleed for your love, I won’t bleed.

Will there ever be a time where all of that just stops? Will there be a time where time freezes and I feel okay for once? Will I ever believe that I am capable of true, unrequited love without ever doubting it? Was there ever a time I just looked at something or someone that I didn’t antagonize in my life, and that for once I am able to just breathe and be wholeheartedly the person I am meant to be and–

I won’t bleed, I won’t bleed.

The music stops for dramatic effect and I’m now facing the audience, exposed and vulnerable by myself on stage in the middle of the spotlight. I catch my breath for the slightest moment before the music starts back up. I glanced down at the audience. That’s the moment where time froze. That’s the moment all I heard was the exhale of my breath.

That’s the moment I saw Jamie sitting in the audience, looking directly at me.

Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

Black Sheep Philly: A Rosie Monologue.

“Rosie!” I hear Hudson’s voice call out my name from the other room. I slowly open my eyes for the first time today; the sun is creeping inside my room through the window. I sit up on my bed and grab my phone off of the nightstand near me; 10:30AM. Why the fuck is Hudson waking me up so early?

I slowly walk down the stairs and see Hudson sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. He looks at me as I look at him until I immediately noticed the iced coffee on the table. I smiled to myself.

“The woman clearly judged me at the coffee shop when I ordered it,” Hudson mentioned, then went to reading the newspaper. I sat down across from him at the kitchen table, sipping on the iced coffee.

“There are people that drink iced coffee in the winter,” I stated. “You’re just overthinking it.” Hudson chuckles to himself and continues to read the newspaper. I get up from the table to grab some waffles from the freezer. I can hear the newspaper being rustled.

“Do you have everything you need to take back to New York?” Hudson asked. I rolled my eyes as I put two of the frozen waffles in the toaster. I turned around and sighed.

“I guess,” I answered. I look at Hudson and, in true-Hudson-fashion, begin to analyze the shit out of me. I guess it’s just embedded in his nature, to interrogate every situation in his life.

“We’re driving back to New York in a couple of hours,” Hudson began to say. “Anything you leave behind will stay here until you come back in June.”

“I know, I know,” I answered back, feeling a bit annoyed. Hudson was always meant to be a dad to someone, and I guess I gave him a second chance at fatherhood when he took me in 2 years ago after losing his own daughter almost 10 years ago. Because of that, I try to be gentle with Hudson, even though I know he doesn’t really need it. “It sucks that the semester is starting in a couple of days.”

“It’ll be over before you know it,” Hudson said as he turned the page of the newspaper. “Are you going to work at the bookstore when it’s over?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I answered, taking another sip of my coffee. I was lying; I knew that I was going to stay in New York for the summer. I just needed the money if I wanted to do the things I wanted to do. Hudson looks back up at me, again as if he was interrogating me.

“I need you to focus on your classes this semester,” Hudson sternly said. “You barely passed your classes because of that asshole of a guy you hang out with.” I scrunched my eyebrows together, mad that Hudson would say something like that about Micah, even though he can be— oh, he means Prescott.

“That boy is history,” I reassured Hudson. “He can rot in hell for all I care.” Again, I was lying. I know that once I get back to New York, I would find myself walking around in my underwear in his penthouse in the Upper East Side, looking out toward Central Park.

“Good,” Hudson simply said. “Because if I find out he’s still in your life and you’re allowing him to be a part of it, you’re coming back to Philly and going to the community college in town.”

“What? Ew, no,” I visibly reacted. “The last thing I want is to go to college here. Now that’s fucking depressing.”

“Good,” Hudson simply said once more, this time putting the newspaper down and looking at me. “Then that means you’ll actually listen to me this time.” I rolled my eyes. My phone vibrates in the kitchen table; I lifted it up and read the message on the screen. I began to get up from the table. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out to hang out with Ren,” I said as I begin to walk toward the stairs.

“Camren?” Hudson asked. “The girl you met when you were on the streets?”

“She got her shit together,” I explained. “Trust me; I wouldn’t want to see anyone that I knew from that time of my life.” Again, I was lying.

I walk to the park in downtown Philly where a bunch of skaters and junkies hang out during the day. I look around, taking a cigarette out of my pocket and lighting it. I can still remember smoking my first cigarette in this park when I was 14, thinking I was so cool for doing so and hanging out with 17, 18 year old teens. I look at a couple of girls who look like they’re 14 themselves, hanging out with teens that were 14-years-old, like, 5 years ago.

Moments later, I feel someone hit my shoulder, which immediately makes me out my fist up, ready to fight.

“Chill, Rosie!” Ren laughed as she said. “Still the same psycho bitch?”

“Still a cigarette-begging bitch?” I asked back, giving her a cigarette. I light it for her as she puffs out.

“Once a bitch, always a bitch; you should know,” Ren answered. I laugh at her response. “What brings you back to Philly? I thought you went to New York to be an actual civilian in life.”

“Winter break,” I answered. “Semester starts in a couple of days so I’m here before I go back.”

“You’re still living with that pig?” Ren asked before she puffed her cigarette again. I rolled my eyes.

“You mean the only person that gives a shit about my well-being?” I sarcastically asked. “Yes, I’m staying with him before he drives me back to New York.” Ren shakes her head and throws the ashes of her cigarette to the ground.

“You know I love you for life, but if any of them see you hanging around here, you’ll gonna get a rude awakening.” Ren now looks up at me. “You know Mitch is in jail?”

“As he should,” I answered, annoyed at the subject. Mitch was my ex-boyfriend when I was a teenager. He was also the guy that all my money went to when I went out on dates. He was more of a pimp than my boyfriend; the only thing that made me different was that he was having sex with just me; he didn’t dare to touch the other girls who were pimping for him. “Son of a bitch deserves to be locked up for life.”

“Yeah, your knight and shining armor locked him up,” Ren mentioned, air-quoting her little nickname for Hudson. “He knows that you had something to do with his arrest.”

“I mean, anyone would know that considering 4 of the 5 people living in that crackhouse are either locked up, on probation, or doing some sort of community service to stay out of jail.” The night I met Hudson wasn’t suppose to be how it ultimately happened. He had just made a press conference looking for information on his daughter that was kidnapped. He put out a number to call for tips; it was my only chance to get out of that shit hole… who knows if I would still be alive if I didn’t call that number.

“Still,” Ren began to say, putting out her cigarette on the ground before she continued. “You have balls for coming back to Philly after all that shit went down.” I look down at my phone, reading the message on the screen. It was Hudson, reminding me to be back at the phone by 5 tonight. Ren watches me message him back. “Nice fancy phone; did your make-believe dad get you that?”

“Fuck off, Ren,” I finally said. Sometimes I wonder why I still talk to Ren; she does nothing but put her business where it shouldn’t be and then have an opinion about everything. “It was good seeing you, but I gotta go.” I turned away from Ren and walked away from the park. Nothing ever good happens at this goddamn park.

I look around before putting my phone back in my bag and taking out a second phone. I hit the only contact that is on that phone. I instantly smiled when I heard the person pick up the phone.

“Hey babe,” I greeted. “I should be back in New York by 7 tonight,” I look around downtown Philly before getting on the bus heading toward my stop. “Wanna do something when I get back?”

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Stuck on Something from the Past: A Grace Monologue.

My dad tried to hide my mom from me as long as he could. I remember asking about her at a young age. Who was she? Was I anything like her? What did she do for a living?

I was about to start high school when I first had the courage to really ask my dad about my mom. We had just came home from Aunt Jessie’s funeral; we had just said goodbye to Uncle Mason and Skylar for the day. It was silent, like we were both mentally exhausted from the day we had. I looked at my dad as he ate the takeout we got before we got home. He was on his phone, paying me no mind. I sat there, feeling the word vomit come up towards my throat. I picked the cuticles on my hands, looking down at them as I called out for my dad. He looked up at me when I did.

“What’s the real reason mom left?” I asked.

I walked to Sonia’s room, nervous to see what she wanted to talk to me about. I can’t lie; Sonia has been a hard-ass for the majority of the rehearsals. I thought that maybe she hated me or something the way she would nitpick every mistake I made on stage. I just didn’t understand why out of all the dancers in the production, she would only focus on me and the mistakes I made. Sahim would tell me to not worry about it too much, and that was just Sonia’s personality. Something told me it was always something more than just that.

I knocked on her hotel door and it immediately opens. Sonia stands there and looks at me.

“Hi, Grace,” Sonia said. “Come on in.” I slowly walked into Sonia’s room; clearly her room was bigger and more expensive than what the dancers were staying in.

“Your assistant said you wanted to speak to me,” I mentioned, sitting on the chair directly across Sonia in the living room area.

“Yes,” Sonia answered and readjusting in her seat. “I wanted to talk to you about the production.” I assumed that much, Sonia. She looks directly at me before she continues. “We wanted to change some things around with the last number of the production; the ‘Proper’ number.”

“Okay,” I simply said, worrying about the changes she wants to make. Is she taking me out of that number? Is she completely cutting out that number because of me?

“I want you to learn the complete solo part of the number,” Sonia stated, not giving it any room to linger in the air. “I and the rest of the production team think that splitting the solo isn’t necessary. You embody the message of the piece flawlessly.” I had to blink a couple of times to realize that this wasn’t some sort of dream I was having. Did she just compliment my dancing for once this entire time?

“Wow, uhm; thank you,” I said, clearly trying to find the right words to say. “That truly means a lot to me.” Sonia smiles at me.

“When I first danced at the original production, there was this dancer that did more than just dance ; she told a story,” Sonia began to say. “She was the type of dancer that you didn’t find in your typical studio. It was like she was born to dance or something. The director of the production wanted her to finish with a dance solo and when I tell you I can still remember that dance step-by-step; it was simply mesmerizing.” Sonia stopped for a moment and looked back at me. “Her name was Mollie Sue Castro.”

“Oh,” I quickly reacted, not realizing that the dancer she was talking about was my mom.

“Yes,” Sonia answered, laughing at my response. “Mollie was the best dancer in that production, and that says a lot considering all of the dancers were the top in their respective academies. Mollie was always different though. I didn’t speak to her a lot, but when she did she always was focused on the dance numbers and really danced at each rehearsal like it was the real thing. She was offered the solo the night before the opening show; a couple of the dancers and I went out and saw Mollie dancing for what nearly was at least 6 hours straight. How do I know that? I left the rehearsal space that afternoon and returned late at night; she was still dancing.”

“She sounds like she was dedicated in her craft,” I said, trying to not give away the fact that Mollie is my mother. I don’t know if Sonia knows that or not, but I figured it was best to keep it to myself.

“She was,” Sonia agreed. “I don’t know what she went on to do after the production, but I can only imagine it was amazing things, because she was an amazing dancer.” Sonia laughed to herself before she said anything else. “Your dancing reminds me a lot of hers. I swear I didn’t remember much of Mollie until I first saw you dance, in which the technique and style were uncannily similar.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked, wanting to hear Sonia open up more about my technique. We all knew she was once a dancer herself and that she participated in the first-ever dance production, so hearing her talk about my dancing in a positive way felt good. It made me feel like I was actually doing something right in my life.

“A great thing,” Sonia answered. “I think you are capable of making history just like Mollie did, because–this stays between us–we haven’t had a dancer like her in the following productions like her since she was in it herself. That was until I saw you dance for the first time. You have a real talent that exceeds a lot of the others in this production, and you all are some of the nation’s best dancers.”

“Thank you, Sonia,” I genuinely said. “That really means a lot to me, considering I thought you hated my dancing or something.” I tried to laugh it off since Sonia had opened up to me a bit more, but she didn’t laugh along.

“Make no mistake, Grace,” Sonia began to explain. “If you feel like my comments or critique is harsh or stern, it’s only because you have so much potential to be amazing for the production. You’re a seamless dancer, but you always look like you have 500 things on your mind when you dance. I need you to focus and really believe that you are a natural-born dancer. Because you are.” I didn’t say anything back to Sonia, only because she was right. I do always have so much on my mind when I’m dancing; I always did. I feel like I’m constantly having things run through my mind.

“I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t,” I said out loud. I looked at Sonia to clarify. “You know, have so much on my mind.”

“We all do,” Sonia argued. “And for most of us, it hinders us from living life to it’s fullest potential.” Sonia leaned forward and looked directly at me with a stern look on her face. “Whatever you have going on in your life brought you here. You and every other person in this production are here because of a decision you all made, so why let things out of your control ruin the things that you are in control of?” Sonia’s alarm on her phone goes off, which cuts her sentence short. She turns off her alarm and takes a deep breath before she says anything else. “I do have another occasion in about 30 minutes, so I’ll let you go and relax for the night. Let me know if the dance solo is something you are interested in doing; you’ll have to be at rehearsal early to be taught the beginning of the solo.”

I nod my head, understanding Sonia and her directions. She smiles and gets up from her seat, which then makes me stand up.

“Thank you for seeing me, Grace,” Sonia gently said. “I apologize if this conversation happened later than we intended, but we have an entire year to work together professionally.”

“Thank you,” I simply said, walking towards the front door to exit.

My dad thinks before he says anything to me. It’s different; he would answer right away and very vague just to move on from the subject. I was shocked he even said anything to me.

“Your mom was–is–an amazing dancer,” he began to say. “She dedicated her life to dancing, even if it affected the relationships around her. I used to travel all the way uptown to make her dance shows just because she was very selective to who watched her dance. I had the luxury of being one of the few that she felt comfortable enough to dance in front of.” He smiled as he spoke about their younger days, but I knew things would change as it quickly faded away.

“As we got older, her career became more damaging to our relationship. Settling down wasn’t something your mother wasn’t ready to do, even if it was gradually happening. We both had to sacrifice some parts of our lives to make sure that you were okay, and that we were properly taking care of you. Your mom wasn’t ready to sacrifice things like I was.” He sighed before he continued to explain. “Your mom wanted to further herself and her career–“

“So she just fucking left me for dance?” I asked, angry now. My dad looked at me sternly and scrunched his eyebrows.

“Language,” he simply said.

“My mom left me to pursue her dance career?!” I got up from my seat, feeling the tears forming in my eyes.

“Grace,” my dad called out for me, but it was too late.

I hated my mom for choosing dance over her own daughter, and I hate that I loved doing the thing she left me for.

Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: My Trichotillomania, in 2023.

Sometimes, you find yourself in a position when you’ve become so self-aware of your behavior and ticks and you are forced to make a decision about it: will you acknowledge it and continue to do it because you know how it starts and where it stems from, or will you acknowledge it and then challenge it?

Hi, my name is Liz, and I am currently challenging my trichotillomania.

I spoke about what trichotillomania looks like on me a couple of years ago when I thought it was at its worst. I was just returning to my bookstore job after the pandemic lockdown in 2020 and I was dealing with some anxiety about things I didn’t have control over. Needing to feel some type of control, I would nervously tweeze, pluck, or pull hair from different parts of my body mindlessly and would feel helpless when I know I needed to stop.

Like I mentioned in my first blog post about this, I remember this habit developing one day when was 12-years-old, reading a book that I was really into at the time. I have this memory of reading this book on my bed; on my back with the book in one hand and my other hand mindlessly pulling the hair off of my eyebrows. As the years progressed, my eyebrows have always been the one consistent place on my body that suffered the most with this bad tick. Other places on my body have had points where I hyper-focused on at once, but my eyebrows have always been the place where I struggled to not touch when I had these hair-pulling episodes.

For years, I deemed it as nearly impossible to let my eyebrows fully grown out to its full potential. Before this tick, I always had naturally thick eyebrows to the point that I even rocked a baby unibrow when I was a kid. After years of plucking and tweezing the same hairs off of my eyebrows over and over again, I was afraid that the hair in those places would never grow back. I started to accept my patchy and spare eyebrows when I learned how to draw them with makeup back in 2016 (before that, well, let’s just say were drawn horrendously…)

2014.

Anyway…

The first half of this year has been one with tons of challenges whether they’ve been my own personal/mental challenges, or external challenges like social and familial ones. I tried to find ways to hide the fact that I was never going to be able to grow out my eyebrows, so I bleached them earlier this year to hide the little hairs I had left on them. I liked the look of them; it was the first time I ever tried the trendy, bleached eyebrow look and it was low maintenance since I didn’t have much hair to bleach whenever I had to touch them up. But, after having bleached eyebrows for three months straight, I didn’t have much eyebrow hair left in which I dyed whatever I had left and tried to grow them out again. Needless to say, it wasn’t long after that I plucked all of the remaining eyebrow hair off of my face.

When dealing with a nervous tick that in a way is categorized as a self-harming type of behavior, it’s easy to accept it for what it is and find ways to live around with it. For me, I thought that having bleached eyebrows would help me not resort to plucking if I didn’t see the hair on my face. Wrong. I eventually would get so anxious, I went back to plucking them once I saw the roots turn black, and before I knew it I was completely hairless in my eyebrow region.

I knew the only other thing I could do is challenge this nervous tick. I wanted to test myself this time around instead of allowing and accepting that this was something I was going to live with for the rest of my life. I wanted to test if I was capable of truly being able to control what I can. I wanted to see if I was able to find healthy alternatives to these ticks, like playing with a fidget toy or apply castor oil on my eyebrows whenever they weren’t drawn in. At a bigger scale, I wanted to not let these unhealthy ticks control me whenever I feel like I am not in control of the situations happening around me.

So, here I am.

I don’t know how my progress will look like by the time this post is published on the blog, but this alone has made me the most proud I’ve been in regards to manifesting something into existence. I don’t know how my eyebrows will look like (or how long my actual hair has grown since writing this), but I’m excited to continue challenging myself from something I haven’t been able to tackle in more than a decade. After a last couple of months of things not being in my field to control, I feel like this is one of the few things I actually have some way over, and if I want to see just how long I can go without relying on my nervous tick to ease my anxiety, I can.

My goal is to not only fully grow back my eyebrows, but I am hoping to grow out my hair (finally) out of the pixie stage its been in since December 2018. I think i am just at a place in my life where I want to take back control of the things I know I can and be proud of making those goals into active changes in life. I would love to see myself a year from now with a little short bob and full eyebrows!

It’s all about celebrating the little victories on the way to the main goal, and I think that’s the path I am continuing to walk down on.

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Worth Something More: A Grace Monologue.

Rehearsal ended earlier than usual today since we were getting some unexpected snow that would make the travel back to our hotels a very messy one. I don’t mind the snow too much while I’m here, and probably that was just me experiencing life in a place I never been before. New York winters felt too gray and gloomy, and the fallen snow reflected that feeling once it’s been sitting on the ground for more than 12 hours. I wonder if people who’ve never been to New York before feel the same as I do about the winter here in Korea.

“Winter in Korea is nice,” Jamie began to say as he looked around Bryant Park. “But, sometimes it can leave so much snow behind that it makes it hard to commute.”

“Is the snow actually pretty looking in Korea?” I asked. “New York snow always looks so sad.”

“Living through many years experiencing winters in Korea, it can also feel very gloomy and sad,” Jamie answered. He looks at me before continuing. “I think every season can be sad looking if you think about it. Winter is too cold, Spring is always raining, Summer is too hot, and Fall is when all the leaves fall from the trees.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I never really thought about it like that. That’s actually kind of depressing.” Jamie chuckled at my statement and shakes his head.

“Life in general can be sad if you don’t have the right people around you,” he began to justify his argument. “Have you ever thought about the life around you when you’re in good company?” We continue to walk down the paths in Bryant Park and I find myself stumbled with his last question. Did I question the life around me whenever I was with other people? Is he right? Do we not really pay any mind to the life living around you when you’re enjoying it with good company? I look around and see the grayish snow on the side of the walkway; this looks quite depressing, but here I am, not really paying it any mind as I walk alongside it with Jamie.

“No,” I simply answered.

I look around me as I sit outside of a local coffee shop not too far from the hotel. I look up at the sky slowly growing dark and grey. I grab my bag from the table and begin to walk back to the hotel before the snow starts coming down.

“Is Willow going to be okay?” I asked as I began to tidy up the room with my cellphone against my right ear and shoulder. “Should I FaceTime you?”

“No, no,” Max insisted. “Willow is okay; she just fell on the ice when her class went to the ice skating rink for their field trip. She’s still sleeping.” I shut my eyes tight, feeling incredibly guilty.

“Okay,” I simply said, opening my eyes as I sighed. It’s only 6 o’clock in the morning in New York. “I will be home for the rest of the night, so please call me if you have any updates on Willow.”

“Okay,” Max answered. “She’ll probably get up in another hour. She’s staying home from school today just so she can rest.” I nod my head, understanding the agenda Max has planned for Willow.

“That’s good,” I added. The doorbell rings and I immediately look at the front door. “Give a kiss to Willow for me when she does get up; I gotta go.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later,” Max ends off the conversation. I hang up and walk towards the front door to open it. Standing there on the other side is Sahim.

“Hey,” I said, immediately forgetting to tell him about the change of plans. Sahim looks at me, clearing confused at the loungewear I have on.

“Am I overdressed?” Sahim asked, pointing at his outfit. He’s wearing a cable-knit turtle neck, black jeans, sneakers, and wool coat. Gosh, he looks good.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, shaking my head and inviting him inside my room. I closed the door behind us and immediately begin to explain why I wasn’t ready yet to go out. “I meant to tell you after today’s rehearsal, but my cousin and I agreed to just do a quick take out dinner tonight since the snow was going to be bad to travel in afterwards.”

“Oh it’s okay,” Sahim says and smiles at me. “I know you didn’t want to go by yourself to dinner, but I’ll get going since, y’know,” Sahim nods his head toward the window where the snow is beginning to fall outside.

“No, please,” I began to quickly say before Sahim walks toward the front door. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to still stay for dinner. I will even overdress a little bit so that you’re not the only one.” Sahim shyly laughs at me, which is honestly like music to my ears right now.

“Are you sure?” Sahim asked once more. I look up to him and wrapped my arms around him.

“Positive,” I answered, smiling up at him.

It wasn’t long after that Skylar and Shawn rang the doorbell of my room. I walk out from the bathroom wearing a pair of denim jeans and a turtleneck blouse. Sahim looks at me when I walk in the living room room area.

“I think you are now the best dressed between the both of us,” Sahim mentioned. I smile and roll my eyes before answering the front door. Staying there is Skylar and Shawn.

“Hey!” Skylar excitingly said before hugging me. Shawn walks into the apartment with Skylar and greets me once Skylar releases me from our hug.

“Hi, Grace,” Shawn greeted. I’ve noticed that Shawn’s English pronunciation has gotten a lot better since the last time I got the chance to speak with him.

“Hey,” I greeted Shawn. I turned around to see Sahim getting up from his seat once Skylar notices him there. Oh boy.

“Well hi there,” Skylar greets Sahim as she puts her hand out. “I’m Skylar, Grace’s cousin.”

“Hi, Skylar; I’m Sahim,” he responded back as he shakes her hand. “I work with Grace.”

I quickly walk over to Skylar and Sahim to not make it any more awkward for me than it already was… for me.

“I hope you don’t mind Sahim staying for dinner, ” I said as I stand in between the two. “I invited him when the plans were actually us going out for dinner.”

“I don’t mind,” Skylar teased and then looked at Shawn. Shawn looked confused as he looked at Skylar.

“Yeah,” Shawn simply said. Skylar rolled her eyes and brought Shawn with her in the living room area. I sat across from them, but next to Sahim. I can already feel my face get hot.

“Have you done some tourist stuff in between rehearsals?” Skylar starts up the conversation.

“A couple of restaurants,” I answered, crossing my legs on top of the couch. “A bunch of us went to this really nice club one night a couple of weeks ago.”

“I love me a good club,” Skylar stated. She looks at Sahim and from there I can feel the knot in my stomach getting tighter. “Are you also a dancer?” she asked Sahim.

“I work as part of the crew of the production,” Sahim answered. “Under the videographer.” I look at Sahim as he speaks; I’m glad he doesn’t look nervous or unlike himself when speaking to Skylar.

“Oh, do the dancers work closely with the tech crew?” Skylar asked.

“Sky,” I said, looking at her. Skylar looks at me before looking back at Sahim.

“What? I’m just making small conversation,” Skylar insisted.

“They do,” Sahim answered. “We sometimes have to position the dancers on stage so that the proper lighting hits them during the key aspects of the choreography.” The room goes silent. Did someone actually leave my cousin at a loss for words for once?

“I didn’t know that,” Skylar responded without looking bothered. “That’s actually really cool.”

“So, what do you want to do for dinner?” Shawn intervened, looking at Skylar. Skylar smiles at him.

“I want to try some authentic Korean food,” she answered. “Are there any restaurants that delivers around here?”

“I haven’t tried take out yet around here,” I answered, taking my phone out to scroll at the places closest to the hotel. “It also doesn’t help that many of these restaurants are in Korean.” I look up at Shawn. “I mean, of course, we’re in Korea, so of course the restaurant would… be… in Korean.” That was insensitive to say sitting across from a native born Korean.

“Many Korean restaurants prefer pick up rather than delivery; delivery is for more fast food and convenience stores,” Shawn informed us. “We can call ahead and then go and pick it up.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Skylar said. “Let’s just pick what we want and have Shawn ordered it over the phone.” I know Shawn doesn’t mind doing whatever it is that Skylar wants, but I felt a little embarrassed to sit across Shawn and see Skylar use him as her own person translator.

“We could try to order it, Shawn doesn’t need to,” I insisted. Shawn shakes his head before saying anything.

“It’s okay,” Shawn began. “Not all Korean restaurants have the patience to serve foreigners.”

“Business is business,” Sahim chimed in. I looked at him, sensing he didn’t like how Shawn spoke to me. I didn’t read much into the cadence of Shawn’s words. I learned early on that when there is a language barrier, things can be interpreted differently. Early on in Skylar’s relationship with Shawn, I had to explain this to her; especially when Shawn’s English was little to none when they first met. The amount of shit I used to give Ja–

“Let’s pick what we want and have Shawn order for us,” I concluded. I smile at Skylar and Shawn, just to keep the peace as well as the tension in as low as possible.

“Thank you,” Shawn says in Korean before hanging up the phone. “The food will be ready in about 20 minutes; we should probably get going.”

“Should we go and get it it?” I asked, while looking at Skylar. I can tell she did not want to move from where she was sitting.

“You two stay,” Sahim said. “I can go with Shawn to get the food.” Skylar and I look at both Sahim and Shawn. Gosh, such an old pair to go out together.

“You sure?” I asked as Sahim walks toward me to grab his coat from the arm-rest of the couch. I get up from the couch as he puts his coat on.

“Positive,” Sahim answered. He kisses the top of my forehead out of nowhere, which instantly makes my face hot and noticeably red. The consequences of that innocent gesture, Sahim.

“We’ll be back with good Korean food,” Shawn says as he puts his coat on. The two men exit the front door and close the door behind him. Cue Skylar’s squeal in 3… 2… 1–

“Ahhh, Grace!” Skylar said out loud. “Like, whoa!”

“Shut up,” I playfully said, walking to the small round table to clean the things off of it.

“So, are you guys dating?” she asked. I don’t answer right away, not really know how to answer her back. Tell her the truth? Tell her what I think? We don’t even know what the fuck we are. “Grace?”

“No,” I answered, being honest. “We haven’t defined anything.”

“Why not?” Skylar immediately questioned.

“I don’t know,” I said nonchalantly. “I guess we haven’t spoke about it yet.”

“Grace,” Skylar sternly called my name. “Don’t lead this man on if you don’t want what he wants.”

“I don’t know what he wants, Sky,” I spat back, a little defensive of my feelings. “Like I said, we haven’t spoken about it.”

“Yet you’re inviting him over for dinner with Shawn and I?”

“Yeah, so I wasn’t third-wheeling at dinner,” I said, lying through my teeth. Of course I wanted Sahim to meet the important people in my life because I like him, but if he wanted to date me, he would’ve asked by now. The thought of me and him being a couple makes me giddy, but reality sets in and I’m reminded that we never really talk about the future if it’s not about the future of the production.

“Don’t you think he thinks this is something worth more?” Skylar asked. “Like seriously, he’s here because he wants to be a part of your life, and you just have him here just so you don’t feel awkward with me and Shawn?” I didn’t answer back. It sounds really shitty for explaining it the way I did, but it was the only way I can make it work in my mind. Sahim is good company, but are we actually destined to be together?

Skylar gets up from the sofa to grab her phone from the coffee table. She looks visibly annoyed at me. I sat down next to her, putting her phone back down on the coffee table.

“I like him,” I said. “But… I’m scared to let anyone else in. The more I tell myself this is casual, the less likely I’ll end up fucking it up.”

“Sahim is not Max or,” Skylar stopped mid-sentence. “You gotta let that shit go. Like I get that you opened yourself to love to the point where it fucked you up, but now you are the reason this man might do the same.” I ponder in thought until I hear a knock on the door. I get up from the couch and walk to the door. It can’t be the guys with the food already.

I opened the door and standing there was the assistant director of the production, Rebecca.

“Hey, Rebecca,” I greeted.

“Sonia wants to speak to you,” Rebecca said, going straight to the point.

“Right now?” I asked, looking back at Skylar who is now on her cellphone. I look back at Rebecca. “I’m about to sit down for dinner.”

“She mentioned it was super important,” Rebecca emphasized. “Her room is on the 12th floor.”

“Sure,” I said. “I go and talk to her.”

Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

Black Sheep to White Sheep: A Micah Monologue.

I walk down the long streets of Manhattan through the snow with my phone in my hand. Every other block I pass, I look down at my phone to see if I’m going in the right direction. I would’ve voted against meeting a high-profile celebrity in the streets of New York City, but I figured this would be best and the least awkward thing to do. The last thing I need is the media camped out in front of my house waiting for Kalia to walk out in tears or some shit.

I finally get to the small coffee shop in the Upper East Side. I look around and immediately am surprised at how pretty the neighborhood looks. The fallen snow is all grey and slush-like back in Brooklyn; here it looks like the snow hasn’t even been touched by a tire of some sort. Anything that looks like a page of a perfectly scripted and edited piece has Kalia written all over it.

I walked into the coffee shop that Kalia suggested to meet up at. It’s one of those coffee shops that has all the pastries and baked goods displayed near the front window of the shop; the ones where you can’t tell if they are actually real or fake considering they look the same no matter what time of the day it is. I took a seat at the table towards the back of the coffee shop. It was something that I picked up when I was dating Kalia; if you’re toward the back of a place, there’s less of a chance anyone from outside will see you or find you once they entered. I looked around some more one I got comfortable at the table. It wasn’t long after that I saw a young woman with sunglasses and a head scarf walking toward my direction. She immediately sits across from me, then takes her sunglasses off.

“Glad you’re not one of those people that wear their sunglasses indoors,” I mentioned to Kalia. Kalia just looks up to me.

“That just makes you more suspicious and prone to getting approached in public,” she said as she placed her sunglasses in her purse and put her bag beside her. She looked back up to me and smiled. “I was happy that you messaged me. I was afraid you didn’t have my number still.”

“You still have mine?” I asked, not realizing what she meant by her statement until I had already asked. Yeah, dumbass, on her second phone. “Don’t answer that–“

“I do,” Kalia answered anyway. “It’s… hard to delete off of my phone.” I continued to look at Kalia as she looked at the menu. I was confused into my she was; it’s a small ass coffee shop that sells like 5 different things. Her eyes peaked out from behind the menu. “Do you know what you want already?”

“I mean, I can’t order a pack of cigarettes in here so I guess a coffee will do,” I answered, sighing. Kalia placed the menu back on the table.

“I thought you quit smoking,” Kalia mentioned. I shrugged my shoulders as a response.

“Picked it back up I guess,” I answered and began to get up from my seat. “What do you want to have? It’s my treat.”

“Micah, you don’t have to,” Kalia insisted. I hated when she did that in our relationship. Every time took hr out for a date, my money was never enough for her. She would buy everything without letting me spend a dime of my own money. It made me feel less of a man at times in our relationship.

“What do you want?” I repeated, just trying to get a straight forward answer from her.

“Caramel Macchiato with a chocolate eclair,” Kalia answered. Is it sad that I already knew what she wanted before she told me? Kalia was a creature of habit, in a way. She hated to try new things so instead she would always order what she knew she would like. I caught on pretty quickly to them as we were dating. I walked toward the counter and order the food and drinks for us. To my surprise, the pastries and baked goods in the display were not fake after all. I walked back to our table and handed Kalia her pastry and coffee.

“Thanks,” she simply said as she took a sip of her coffee. I sighed before I said anything.

“Of course,” I began to say, rubbing my hands on top of my thighs. “Listen, Kal, I wanted to talk about what happened last night at the gala.”

“I know,” Kalia said as she placed her drink back down on the table. “And I’m sorry if I was babying you with the whole alcohol thing.”

“Thanks, but there’s more to it than that,” I looked at Kalia. “Maybe it’s about time we talk about everything that was unsaid between us before we broke up.”

“I agree,” Kalia said, looking directly at my eyes. I took a moment to put my thoughts together; I didn’t want to say things out of anger. The wound was healing, but still felt so new watching her sit across from me. “Is it okay if I start?” she asked before I got the chance to say anything.

“Sure,” I said, leaning back on my chair.

“When we broke things off before I left, I really didn’t want to lose you completely,” Kalia began to say. She looked down at her fingers as she spoke. “Before all of this… you were my friend.” I look at Kalia and remember when we were back in high school. She was a junior when I met her in my band class; she was the only girl drummer in the ensemble and thought that was dope. She was super talented. We spoke about possibly recording a song or two and sending it out as a demo once we graduated from high school. I think about that Kalia a lot; the Kalia that just wanted to play music in my mom’s dance studio and didn’t care about what other people thought about her. I lost that Kalia when she began to accept the fact she was the daughter of a well-known actor. It’s shitty to say this, but I miss the Kalia that was afraid for the world to know who the fuck she really was.

“I know,” I simply responded, not really knowing what else to say.

“I hate that I left the impression that I didn’t love you anymore,” Kalia continued to say. “But it wasn’t fair to you to have a long distance girlfriend whose career was now going to take up so much of her time.”

“But who made you decide that for me?” I interrupted. I was annoyed that Kalia always felt the need to make decisions for the both of us without including me in that process. “Maybe I didn’t mind that. Maybe I was already used to the fact that your career came before us.”

“Would you have been okay with that?” Kalia asked back. “I already feel like you felt a certain way being my boyfriend before the movie role came into the picture.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I started to say. “I don’t care if you were the fucking president’s daughter. I was with you for you.” I was with you because I was holding out faith that the Kalia I knew was still alive in her.

“Micah, we weren’t perfect,” Kalia mentioned.

“Who called us perfect besides the media?” I pointed out. “We had a long way from being the perfect couple, but I felt like you wanted to show the world that we were.”

“No,” Kalia corrected, looking a little annoyed now. “I wanted to prevent the media from being in all of our business.” I scoffed as an answer, knowing it was nearly impossible for her to sway the media to paint us the way she wanted. Kalia didn’t like that. “I feel like I can’t even talk to you about these things without you already having a judgment about it or about me.”

“Kal,” I started to say, trying to not allow my anger about the situation completely take over me. “I’m sorry. You have to understand that I still hold some sort of resentment about everything that happened. You have to understand that when you made the decision to cut things off because of the distance, I was still in love with you.”

“I was too,” Kalia said and stopped herself from continuing. “I still am.” I looked up at Kalia when she said that. That was unexpected. I can tell Kalia felt exposed; her face looked worried and she seemed like she was gonna jolt any second.

“Me too,” I confessed. Kalia looked relieved that her confession wasn’t a mistake to make. She let out a dragged out sigh and leaned back in her chair. “Kalia, we literally broke up not too long ago. Those feelings weren’t going to easily go away.”

“I know,” Kalia said. “I just thought you’d hate me for how things ended and all of that.”

“It wasn’t the smoothest way to end things,” I pointed out. “But things happened the way they did.” Kalia straightened in her seat, gaining back her composure.

“You know if I didn’t have to film in Sweden, I wouldn’t have ended things,” she said, playing with the napkin in front of her on the table. “I know this is asking for too much, but…” Kalia started to look nervous again. I don’t like when Kalia looks this nervous, but it reminds me of the Kalia I knew back in high school. High school Kalia used to be nervous every time I would tell her to hop on my bike as I rode it after school. She would hold onto me tight, sometimes screaming and laughing at how fast I would go down the deep hills. She would call out my name every time the bike would go faster, and I always would reassure her that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

I still wanted nothing bad to happen to her.

“Can we start over?” Kalia asked, finally letting out the question. I didn’t answer right away, not because I was really thinking about what to say, but more so because I didn’t know what to ask her back. Starting over means getting to know each other again as if all of the memories we shared don’t exist. Some of the memories I have with Kalia are some of the best memories I have, because I was in love with a girl that was in love with me. I let out a deep breath before answering.

“Let’s leave,” I said, getting up from my seat. I put my hand out for Kalia, in which she slowly puts her petite hand in mine, helping her out of her seat.

The garage door opens as Kalia and I look into it. I was the first one to walk in; Kalia quickly followed along as I turned on the garage light and closed the door behind us. Kalia looks around the garage, confused as to why I took her here. I walk to one of the corners of the garage and turned back around to see Kalia. She looks at me with her arms crossed along her chest.

“Why are we here?” Kalia finally asked. I turned around and lifted the car cover from the motorcycle. I smiled as I turned around to see Kalia’s reaction. Of course, a smile flashed on her face.

“I haven’t rode it yet,” I said, turning around to see the brand new looking motorcycle. It still had its shine from when I first got it.

“You didn’t get your motorcycle license yet?” Kalia asked, walking closer to the me and the motorcycle.

“I did,” I answered, looking now at Kalia next to me. “But it never felt right to ride it after everything that happened.”

“Micah, you could’ve rode it,” Kalia stated. “It’s yours.”

“Yeah, but I remember promising my girlfriend that when I got my first motorcycle and my license that I was going to go on my first ride with her,” I pointed out, smiling at Kalia. “The weather isn’t bad and the roads aren’t icy.” Kalia cocked her eyebrows up.

“You want to ride it now?” Kalia asked. “With me?”

“Of course with you,” I answered. “I miss hearing your voice call out my name when I used to ride my bike too fast back in the day.” Kalia smiled as her initial response.

“I remember those bike rides,” Kalia recalled. “God, we would go around the entire borough of Brooklyn on that damn bike together.” I smiled as she spoke. I turned to her and lifted her chin so that I was able to kiss her. Her lips were still as soft as I remember. They had a slight taste of vanilla from the lip balm she would always put on. The first time I ever kissed her, I was nearly addicted to the taste of it. I didn’t realize just how badly I needed to taste the vanilla on her lips again, and I didn’t realize just how much Kalia would allow me to kiss her after everything that has happened between us.

“I missed you,” I let out in the middle of our kiss, confessing how I was feeling. She looked up at me and smiled.

“Me too,” she confessed. I looked at her for a moment, wanting to stare at her face for hours. I guess she wanted to do the same, because her eyes did not leave mine until she smiled and looked at the motorcycle. I followed her gaze. “Wanna show me around the city again?”

“I would love to,” I answered, quickly kissing her again as I walked toward the motorcycle to get it out of the space it was sitting for months.

Where I was sitting for months wanting nothing but Kalia to come back in my life.

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Is This Something You Want?: A Grace Monologue.

All of the other dancers begin to get ready for today’s rehearsal; myself included. I adjust the pointe shoes on my feet and begin to tie them up before I notice Aimee walking toward me.

“Hey Aimee,” I said as she sat next to me, beginning to put on her pointe shoes as well. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” Aimee answered. “Maurice and I ended up watching Legally Blonde before coming to rehearsal.” I smiled at Aimee’s answer.

“Sometimes, you just need a good classic movie to make things better,” I stated. Aimee took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m just afraid to go back to my room after rehearsal and sit alone with my thoughts. Like, it’s so much more easy to have a friend or someone just be there with you.” I look at Aimee and listen to her speak. I know exactly how that feels. There’s only so much your family and friends an do until the sun goes down and you’re left with just your thoughts for the night.

“If you ever want to come to my room, you know you’re always welcome to,” I reassured Aimee. “I know how it feels to sit in your thoughts alone and I wouldn’t want you doing that 3 days before the opening.” Aimee smiled in appreciation.

“When did I get the best of friends?” Aimee asked.

“Well I can’t speak for Maurice being the best,” I jokingly said. We both laugh as we continue to get ready for the rehearsal. It wasn’t long after that the director’s assistant was calling for the dancers in Aimee’s number. “Have a good rehearsal; I’ll see you soon on stage.” Aimee got up from the ground and quickly placed her bag in one of the vacant lockers.

I continued to lace up the ribbon of my pointe shoe until I see a man’s shoe in front of me. I look up and instantly smile.

“Hey, Sahim,” I greeted him. “You’re on break or something?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Sahim answered, sitting down on the ground next to me. “Ready for rehearsal?”

“Ready as I can be,” I answered, then smiled. “Got any plans after work today?”

“Most likely catch up on some television shows,” Sahim said. “I promise I won’t have too much fun without you around.” I rolled my eyes at his cute little response. Just like him to do. “How about you?”

“I’m going out for dinner,” I began to answer. “My cousin and her boyfriend surprised me earlier today. They’re here on vacation and are going to the opening of the show this Friday.”

“Is this family from back home?” Sahim asked. I nodded.

“My cousin Skylar lives in California with her Korean boyfriend,” I started to explain. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

“I mean it’s not too far-fetched considering you have a niece who lives in Korea,” Sahim pointed out. “But I’m glad you have family coming out to support on opening night. Are you more nervous now that you do?”

“I’m only nervous about Skylar making a fool of herself in the theater,” I emphasized. “She’s… not the person that can read a room well.” Sahim laughs at what I say.

“That’s family for you,” Sahim concluded.

“Maybe before the show you can meet them,” I suggested. “It would be a crime if I didn’t introduce you to her.” The lightbulb finally goes off in my head. “Would you like to come with me to dinner tonight?”

“To meet your family?” Sahim asked, looking a little worried now.

“It’s just my cousin,” I said. “Plus, it would be super awkward for me to just be there by myself while she’s with her boyfriend.”

“I don’t want to come unannounced to a dinner you and your cousin planned, Grace,” Sahim confessed. My eyes deadpanned toward Sahim.

“Let me rephrase,” I begin to explain. “Skylar is only wanting to go to dinner because she knows you exist.” Sahim’s eyes widen.

“You told your cousin about me?” Sahim asked, looking a little shy now. I didn’t realize just how much that sounded like a teenager telling her friends about a crush.

“I did,” I confessed, looking down at my shoes to avoid eye contact with him. “She was curious about the guy I kept spending my time with here in Korea.” I finally look up at Sahim.

“Did I get the favorite cousin seal of approval?” Sahim asked teasingly. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Considering she wants to meet you, then probably,” I answered. “I know it’s short notice, but it would mean a lot if you came with me tonight.”

“So, a double date,” Sahim said out loud before looking back at me. “Is this something that you want?”

“Whatcha mean?” I asked, not really understanding what he meant by that.

“Introduce me to your family,” Sahim answered. “I know it’s not your parents or anything, but from what you tell me about your cousin, introducing me to her seems to be like a big deal.” I scrunched my eyebrows together, feeling a little embarrassed that Sahim is questioning my intentions for tonight. Sure, I don’t want to show up to this dinner by myself and sitting across Skylar and Shawn. I want to feel comfortable just in case something goes wrong. God, what if they bring up Jamie? Jamie. I slowly realize that I want Sahim there for more than just the support; I need him there to show them that I’m over my ex-boyfriend. That I moved on, living a better and happier life… but to drag Sahim into this dinner just to show off another man is wrong. I shake my head as I begin to get up from the ground.

“Forget it,” I finally said, gathering my stuff from the floor. “It’s a stupid idea.” Before I walked away, Sahim gets up from the floor and tries to get my attention.

“Hey, hey,” Sahim softly says to me. He looks down at me to meet up with my eyes; I look up at his. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to make sure this is something you want to do.”

“Sahim,” I begin to say before the assistant director calls out for the next number to prepare to go on stage. Maybe I shouldn’t say this. “I… got to go.”

“Say what you want to say,” Sahim says to me. “Don’t go without saying what you want to say. It’s just going to mess up your rehearsal.” Fuck, how does he know that?

“I… like you, a lot,” I started to say. “And I tend to do things that scare people away, like introducing them to the most important people in my life before they are ready for it. I’m doing nothing but scaring you away at this point.”

“Grace,” Sahim started to explain. “There’s nothing that you can do to scare me away at this point. I just want to be on the same page as you, because I also like you. A lot. But you already know that.” I bite my bottom lip as he speaks to me. I feel like a teenager that just got back the passed note with the “yes” checked off asking if my crush likes me too.

“Is this something that you want?” I asked Sahim back. “Do you want me?”

“Let’s just say it’s been hard to keep it professional ever since we kissed at the club,” Sahim answered. I could feel my face get really hot; I almost forgot that happened considering so many things are now happening around me. “I’ll pick you up at 7 for dinner with your cousin.”

“Really?” I asked, sounding a little too excited to hear him say that. All he does is smile. Now he’s just teasing me with it.

“Of course,” Sahim said. “I would love to meet the important people in your life, because you have become important to me.” Oh the way he knows how to use words kills me.

“Ditto,” I said, which was all I could say. The 2 minute warning from the assistant director is heard again. Quickly, Sahim kisses me on the cheek.

“Have a good rehearsal, darling,” Sahim said. Darling. I stupidly smile wide as I set my stuff near the other bags from the dancers and run out to make it to the stage.

I stand at the left side of the stage, waiting for my cue to come in as we rehearse the last two numbers of the production. Sahim’s words play in my head like a song on a never-ending loop. His words were always comforting to me; something I haven’t had in a person for quite some time now. I guess the night at the club sealed it in my mind: I really like Sahim. I’ve thought about him in situations that I haven’t thought about in a long time. I picture him and I visiting all of the tourist places in Korea after we clock out from our 9 to 5 and await for the 8 o’clock show that night. I picture him and I going back to New York and going to the park during the summer with Willow. I picture him and I going to his hometown to get a better glimpse of who he was before I met him as he is now. I picture Sahim being the one, and that fucking scares me. I should have learned the first time to date someone I worked with—

But this time feels like I was suppose to meet him like this. How else would I met this incredible man?

“Cue the Prosper number,” I hear the director call out from the stage. The music starts to play and I watch the other dancers begin to dance along to the music. It wasn’t long after that I hear the director cue me.

I enter the stage, dance to the music and land myself center stage. I open my eyes as I listen to the lyrics of the song and dance to the song. I take a glimpse at those who are at the front of the stage, watching the rehearsal. I see Sahim sitting there, watching me dance. It makes me smile.

It makes me hopeful. It inspires me. It makes me excited to see where this takes us.