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.

Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: 2023 So Far.

Let’s just say that my only new year’s resolution didn’t necessarily go as planned.

The day is December 31st, 2022; New Year’s Eve. As someone that carries some trauma associated with the holiday, I never try to make a big deal out of it. I try to keep myself busy; on this particular NYE, I went to the beauty supply store and purchased a packet of bleach to try the whole trendy “bleached, no eyebrow” eyebrow look on my already non-existent eyebrows. As the hours counted down towards midnight, I told myself I wasn’t going to set any resolutions since I really didn’t believe in them. The only thing I wanted out of 2023 was for the year to be relatively peaceful and quiet after a very loud and very busy 2022.

Hi, my name is Liz and I think this year has been anything but peaceful or quiet for me.

2023 continues my journey of embracing the person I am growing into and practicing how to assert myself in areas such as self-worth, self-respect, and in self-confidence. I knew that new things were destined to come my way professionally as I was told early on in the year that my office was in the process of potentially getting me a full time position! Entering 2023, I feel like I was going through possibly one of the highest points in my life–

until I was at my lowest.

As we passed the halfway point into the year (which is crazy considering it feels like the year just started), I reflect back on the last 7 months of 2023 and how it’s molded me into the person I am today and even where I’m going in the future.

In 2023, most (if not all) of my interpersonal relationships were tested. I entered 2023 feeling secure and surrounded by these relationships for them to not be here anymore or not what they were before. These challenges were faced with a lot of questions in mind: am I letting people speak about my feelings and my life without really knowing the entire story? Am I going to let people fuck me up to the point where it hinders my growth as a person? Why am I feeling the way that I feel if I already know what I should do about it? I would never say that the people I once had in my life (past or present) never had my best interest in mind, but the difference was that I never even had my own best interest in mind, so why would the people around me do? I realized that after stepping back from a lot of these relationships to reflect and take a look at it as an outsider looking in: a lot of the relationships you had during the time where you were a people-pleaser and accommodated to everyone’s feelings besides yours will start to look different once you change those qualities about yourself.

Removing those qualities came with a lot of self-doubt and contemplating whether or not I was doing the right thing. There’s a fine line between being assertive and just being a mean person overall and most of the time, you’re never going to get an unanimous answer of what it truly is. You may think you’re being assertive and putting your foot down in situations you never put your foot down for when really, you’re not accounting what everyone else may be feeling and are only thinking for yourself (and vice versa, of course).

A lot of my time alone this year was spent on feeling guilty of practicing assertiveness with the relationships in my life. I spent a lot of time fighting the urge to revert back to old habits, to let people influence my decision making and to let people step all over me without acknowledging my feelings. I was afraid that I would not be seen anymore if I allowed myself to revert, but I felt like I was stuck in this place where I had the angel and devil on my shoulders:

“You are working towards a better you,” the angel began to say. “Practicing these techniques and methods means you are not going to get them right the first couple of times. Be gentle with yourself; you know how much you are truly worth.”

“But you’re constantly doing it wrong,” the devil counteracted. “Like look at yourself, Liz; you’re back to when you had no identity and no friends and like, seriously; if it feels like how it was before it’s most likely because it’s exactly how it was before.”

Not even the amount of therapy I have gotten to this point can help me rewire this part of my brain to finally stand up and say that it is what it is and that the next group of people I allow into my life will be introduced to an already assertive and outspoken Liz.

But that’s a whole different part of the story I am not ready to write yet.

In the meantime, I am learning how to be gentle with myself and give myself the same love and support I would give out to other people. I am at a place where I am learning that these changes do not happen overnight and that patience is truly the key. Half of the work has already happened; I’ve practiced these techniques and enforced them on whatever was dimming my light. The other half of the work is still yet to be determined, and who’s to say the work gets any easier just because of the practice?

When is it going to be about perfecting it?

Perfecting techniques so that when these insecurities and untamed emotions subside, I already know what has to be done. Perfecting the alignment of my heart to my mind and being on the same page with them so that I can come out of these situations the best that I can be. Rome wasn’t built overnight, and I know I have more than the rest of this year to unlearn beliefs and ideologies that are harmful to my mental well-being.

These next 5 or so months, I don’t see myself having this “come of Jesus” moment and discover the true meaning and purpose of life. I don’t even see a lot of peace along the way, and that’s not me being pessimistic or a Debbie Downer; it’s me having lived a lot of life and experienced how not everything that shines is gold. I know that anything in life can happen, and no matter how prepared I am for what’s to come or how it comes, I am still learning and growing into the person I want to become–

–and there’s simply no deadline for when that happens.

I want these next 5 months of 2023 to be a time where I am experiencing all of the things I was once too scared to experience. I want to continue having the difficult conversations I used to avoid completely when I was younger. I want to be my authentic self to others and still remind them I have feelings and emotions just like theirs. I want to push myself to try new things, learn new methods and techniques and perfecting the ones I am already being taught.

Most importantly, I want to enter my 30’s in 2024 alive.

Not just physically alive, but I want to experience my 30’s just how everyone describes them to be; “a time in your life where you do not care what people say or think about you because you have a pretty good understanding of who you are.” If there’s one thing I felt consistently in my 20’s, it’s the feeling of being mentally exhausted. Shit; I’m currently mentally exhausted. I’m exhausted of worrying about what people portray me as, I’m exhausted of trying to prove myself to people who already have an opinion about me. I’m exhausted of allowing external beings influence my internal feelings. I’m exhausted wondering if I am worthy of healthy, true love in the form of romantic partners, platonic friends, and anything that I feel like I don’t deserve. I am exhausted of having other people’s best interest in mind and never having my own. I so desperately try to keep lovers and friends in my life, yet easily let go of the lover and friend within myself.

I am so proud of how far I’ve become as a person. I am proud that I am relearning who I am and what are the things that define me as an unique being in this world (and yes, that includes my red flags and toxic traits). I am proud that I can look back to the Liz I was 10 years ago and truly say that I made it through the shit that I thought was going to take me down.

I just hope that 2033 Liz sees the same in the 2023 me, knowing I’ve overcome everything I’m going through now. There’s no doubt in my mind that she will.

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Something At My Door: A Grace Monologue.

I walked back into my hotel room, shaking the snow off from my coat and winter boots. The winter hasn’t been too bad in the month I’ve been here, but today’s snow has been nonstop. Sahim and I basically ran back to the hotel once the snow began to come down; the last thing we both wanted was to get stuck in a restaurant because the weather was so bad.

My phone rings on in my coat pocket. I take it out and pick it up once I see it’s Sahim.

“Hey,” I greeted. “Made it back to your room safely?”

“Yes; frozen, but safe,” Sahim said. I laughed at his response. “How about you? You’re okay?”

“Yeah, I just have to dry my coat and boots since they are covered in snow,” I said as I moved my boots to the bathroom and placed them in the tub.

“I’ll let you relax before rehearsal tonight,” Sahim responded. “Thanks again for letting me treat you to breakfast.” Ugh. My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.

“Thank you for treating me,” I answered back, still smiling. “I’ll see you tonight for rehearsal.” We both said our goodbyes and hung up. I look at the time on my stove to see that it’s about 11AM. Skylar should definitely still be up. I walked my way toward the small sofa and dialed Skylar’s number; this time it goes straight to voicemail. I haven’t been able to get a hold of Skylar for the last two days and it’s now annoying me. I know the time difference makes it hard for me to get in contact with my family back in America, but Skylar always makes sure to call or text me when she has the time to. I toss my phone on the sofa and let out a loud sigh. Not long after, the doorbell rings. I get up and see through the peephole that it’s Aimee. I opened up the door and greet her.

“Hey, Aimee,” I said as I let her into my room. She walks in and immediately takes a seat on the sofa. “You’re okay?”

“Girl,” Aimee said as she crossed her legs together on the sofa. “If you still drank, I would’ve had has drinking the strongest of liquor right now.”

“What happened?” I asked, walking towards the sofa to join Aimee.

“My boyfriend and I got into a huge fight early this morning,” Aimee started to say. “We weren’t on the greatest terms when I left to come here, but we were trying to work things out. He calls me this morning to pretty much break up with me and say that my career is ruining our relationship.”

“What?” I said, shocked. I briefly met Aimee’s boyfriend over FaceTime one day when we were still in New York. He seemed like a good guy and was really into Aimee from the looks of it. “Is he really blaming your career for the fallout of your relationship?” Aimee’s anger quickly turns into sadness and I immediately get up to get some napkins from the kitchen. I hand them over to Aimee and then sit back down.

“It’s not like I just woke up one day and decided this was going to be what I did for a living,” Aimee stated as she wipes her eyes with the napkin. “He met me when I was a dancer so for him to put the blame on it is really fucked up.”

“When you passed the audition, how did he react to it?” I asked Aimee, trying to comprehend the situation in its entirety.

“He was happy,” she answered, continuing to wipe the tears from her eyes. “We even went out to this fancy dinner date to celebrate and everything. He was always so supportive of my dance career so I don’t know where all of this came from when we spoke on the phone.”

“I’m sorry, Aimee,” I said as I handed her more napkins as she cried. In the back of my head, I thought about all of the conversations my mom and I had about taking dance as seriously like this. I knew it for all those years, back in Virginia, when I learned that dance was what broke my parents up in the first place. I think anything that you put above the relationships in your life are going to be challenging to maintain. I should know. “Trust me, it’s not your career that ruined your relationship.”

“I feel like all of our problems came because of my dance career,” Aimee mentioned. “We were fine when I was just at my dance academy doing small gigs and shit.”

“That’s what I mean, Aimee,” I said as I leaned forward to her. “It only became a problem when you wanted more from your career. It’s not that you were dissatisfied with what you already had in your life, you just wanted more regarding your career. You love what you do and you were wanting more out of it, and it’s not easy to maintain the relationships in your life when your career demands so much of your time.”

“Why couldn’t he said something sooner?” Aimee asked as she cried. “Why did he act like this supportive boyfriend if he really had a problem with my career?”

“Because sadly, they want to support,” I began to answer. “Until they realize that it doesn’t benefit them.” I looked at Aimee and she looked at me; we didn’t say anything after that.

“For fuck’s sake, pick up the phone, Sky,” I said to myself before hanging up the phone. I slammed my phone on top of the counter and sighed loudly. The moment I get Skylar on the phone, I’m directly screaming in her ear about her just going radio silent for days. Don’t let a man get you isolated from the rest of the world, girl. There’s a knock on my front door; I immediately looked at the door confused at who could it be.

After Aimee came to my room to talk about her boyfriend, I called down Maurice to come and cheer her up. Maurice always had a way to get Aimee out of any bad mood or funk. Maurice and Aimee bounce off from each other well, so I figured Maurice would be a great solution to make Aimee feel better about her breakup. Once Maurice and Aimee left my room, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come and knock on my door.

I opened the front door and my eyes immediately widen. This isn’t real; I’m totally dreaming right now. I smiled once I heard Skylar’s loud mouth as I opened the door.

“Surprise!” Skylar said with her arms open wide. I smiled and went in for a hug.

“Sky, what the fuck are you doing here?” I said, still in shock that my cousin from California is standing in front of me in my room in Korea. I look toward my front door and notice someone else standing there with luggage. Skylar turns around and extends her arm to the man standing near the front door. Shawn.

“Well, Shawn and I came out here for two things,” Skylar said as Shawn wrapped his arm around her.

“Oh no, please tell me you aren’t pregnant and did a shotgun wedding back in California,” I said, looking at them both.

“What? No,” Skylar answered. “We were planning to come and meet his family here in Korea, but since we were coming here, I wanted to come and see your show!” I was in a state of shock. It was one thing to get the support from your family by simply sending them a link to the live-stream of the performance, but to actually have someone here in person watching you from the audience; I was very emotional and did nothing but hug Skylar. Oh, and cry a bit.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done, ” I said through tears in my eyes. Skylar wipes them off with her hands as I laugh, only because I’m beyond embarrassed. I look over at Shawn. “Sorry, Shawn; I didn’t mean for you to see me like this.”

“No need to be sorry,” Shawn finally spoke. “I’ll do anything that makes Sky happy.” Skylar turns around and kisses Shawn. They are stupidly in love with each other.

“I would’ve let you guys stay here with me, but this technically isn’t my room,” I joked around.

“It’s fine,” Skylar reassured. “Shawn and I booked a hotel room about 15 minutes from where the venue is. We’re staying there until after opening night and then we’re going to Seoul to stay with his family.” I nodded my head as Skylar recited her plans here in Korea.

“I’m glad that you guys are here,” I said and smiled. “Once you guys get settled in, we should go out to dinner.”

“That would be nice,” Shawn responded and looked at Skylar. “I also apologize for Skylar not answering your phone calls; I didn’t show her how to turn her services over to international until we landed.” Skylar rolled her eyes playfully.

“I’ll text you,” Skylar said as she walked toward the front door with one bag of her luggage. “I need to catch up on all of the sleep before it turns to severe jet lag.” I nodded my head, totally agreeing with her.

“Have a safe drive to the hotel,” I waved as they left my room. “I’ll text you!” I closed the door to my room and looked at the time on my stove. Shit, I’m going to be late for rehearsal.

Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

A Black Sheep’s Unrequited, Rekindled Love: A Micah Monologue.

The last time I saw Kalia was when she told me she was going back to Sweden to film in a movie she was starring in. I knew that dating someone like Kalia would run its course someday; she was the daughter of a well-known actor in the entertainment industry and because of that, all eyes were now on her. I didn’t care back in high school; I just knew that I really liked Kalia and to my surprise, she liked me back. It was a difficult start of the relationship; it was my first yet and the one that everyone in the public knew about. The relationship was good until it wasn’t good anymore.

“Kalia?” I said once I heard her call my name at the banquet. She walks closer to be and suddenly wraps hr arms around me for a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Micah,” she said, burrowed in my suit jacket. She pulls away and looks at me with a smile. “How have you’ve been?”

“Okay,” I said, not wanting to share any more information with her. “How about you?”

“I’ve been good, filming wrapped up for the holiday season so my father and I came back to America to attend the gala,” Kalia recalled as I nodded my head in response. “How’s school going?”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Spring semester doesn’t start for another couple of weeks.” Kalia nodded her head, now looking a bit uncomfortable where she’s standing. “Well, I should get going, check on Reese and Dyl and shit.” I begin to walk away from Kalia before she calls out my name once more.

“Micah,” Kalia said. I stopped and turned around to face her once more. “I… really hate how things ended between us.”

“It ended, it’s fine,” I nonchalantly said. “I’m over it.”

“If you were over it, you wouldn’t be so cold with me right now,” Kalia mentioned, crossing her arms along her chest. “I thought we could be cordial and catch up, like normal people.”

“We were never normal,” I said, cutting her thought off. “Normal people don’t break up because one of them randomly is leaving to film for a movie. Normal people also don’t gift a motorcycle as soon as they break up with each other.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Micah,” Kalia sternly said. “This is my job.”

“I’m not saying anything about your job,” I snapped back. “I’m saying that you don’t get to choose whether or not we can be cordial.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong for you to be acting this way,” Kalia pointed out, now annoyed. “I could’ve broke up with you without even telling you why.”

“You might as well did that,” I said, louder than my normal speaking voice. “Then I wouldn’t have ever known that you kept me in the dark about your career choices.” I walk over to the bar and request a drink; the great thing about these events is that they don’t care how old you really are, they will serve you alcohol no matter what.

“Micah, you’re not legal age yet,” Kalia whispered to me as I get the drink in my head. “You’re going to get everyone in trouble–“

“Kalia,” I said to cut her off. “I don’t give a shit, just how I don’t give a shit about rekindling whatever this was.” As I try to walk away from Kalia and down my drink, I turned around to see a reporter approach us. Kalia then quickly turns on the switch: the smile that hides everything that just happened within the last 5 minutes. I find it how scary she’s able to switch; I guess that makes her a good actress. I turn away, try to escape the reporter before it was too late. Newsflash: It was already too late.

“Hi, Sheila Forbes, Channel 8 News,” the reporter introduces herself to us before she turns back around toward the camera. “We are here at the annual Gala at the Banquet Palace; an event where all entrepreneurs small and big celebrate the accomplishments of the previous year and begin a new one for their business.” The reporter turns to face Kalia and I. “Joining us for an interview is up-and-coming actress, as well as Joel Holder’s daughter, Kalia Holder. Hi, Kalia,” the reporter finally puts the microphone toward Kalia and I feel sick to my stomach.

“Hi, Sheila,” Kalia smiles as she greets the reporter. “I’m glad to be here supporting the businesses of the attendees here tonight.”

“Sources say that the wrapping of your first full-length feature film as taken a break for this event; what does it mean for you to be here?” the reporter asked. I tried to slowly move away from Kalia and leave, but I notice the camera is now in my face. “Here to support your boyfriend?”

“His family, yes,” Kalia said as she smiles to me. I try to fake a smile as well. “His mother is a world-renowned business owner, teaching generations of dancers that go on to be featured on Broadway and other huge projects in the dance community.” Kalia answers the questions like a pro. I wonder if this is something they have to teach you being in the limelight; to be fake and positive and never bring too much attention to your own personal life and details. The reporter now looks at me before she speaks.

“What do you feel about Kalia’s first movie as the lead actress?” The reporter now points the microphone at me.

“I’m proud of Kalia going after for what she wants by any means necessary,” I said, looking at Kalia who looks nervous that I am the one speaking. “I wish her the best.”

“It must be hard to keep a long-distance relationship when one is off in a different country filming for a movie and the other is back here,” the reporter mentions. “How are you guys able to keep the love going with all this time apart?”

“Easy,” I answered before Kalia does. “So easy in fact, it’s like there’s really nothing keeping us from each other.” Kalia looked at me, horrified.

“Yes,” Kalia continued. “Even the distance doesn’t keep us apart during these times, but I’m glad to be here to support him and his family and the other business owners tonight.” The reporter wraps up the segment and thanks both Kalia and I. Once she walks away, Kalia looks at me, now annoyed.

“Why would you say those things?” Kalia asked, not amused.

“Why would you say those things?” I returned the question. “We aren’t together anymore.”

“Yeah, well the media doesn’t know that,” Kalia confesses. I scoff, not surprised that Kalia wouldn’t want anything negative to reflect on her growing public image.

“Didn’t you call off your relationship to only focus on your career now?” I mimicked the news article that came out a couple of days after I last saw her.

“Yeah, but for me to be seen with you after that would’ve made things even messier,” Kalia explained, looking around the ballroom for any other reporters. “Most likely, someone already has a picture that they will sell to the media by the end of the night.”

“Good luck with that,” I throw my hands up. “I’m not lying for you just so you can keep a clean and perfect image.”

“I’m not asking for you to do anything,” Kalia snapped at me. “I will deal with my life on my own.”

“Yeah, well keep me out of it,” I said before turning away from her. I walked away down with trying to reason with Kalia.

I feel the vibration of my phone on my face, which ultimately wakes me up. I groan and stretch, looking at my phone before picking it up. It’s Tanner, so I picked up.

“Yo,” I said as I rubbed my eyes. “What’s up?”

“Dude,” Tanner began to say. “Dani’s gonna kill you for getting back together with Kalia.”

“I’m not back together with that girl,” I said, getting up from my bed. “WHy would Dani think that I am?”

“It’s all over social media, dude,” Tanner pointed out. I put my phone on speaker before going onto the web browser to check.

A Rekindled Love? Kalia Holder spotted at NYC Entrepreneur's Gala with on-and-off again boyfriend.

“Rekindled love?” I said out loud, very annoyed. “Bro, these reporters will run with anything.”

“You were with Kalia at the gala last night though?” Tanner asked. “I thought you were with your family for that.”

“I was,” I said, getting dressed with anything I see in sight. “Until Kalia found her way to me and wanted to be cordial and catch up.”

“Dude,” I hear Tanner over the phone.

“She came to me,” I emphasized. “She went to Sweden to hug penguins or some shit for a movie, that’s why she broke up with me all those months ago.”

“Sweden is not in Antarctica,” Tanner pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

“You know what I fucking mean,” I spat out, now losing my patience. “Kalia was talking to the reporter and making it seem like she came back to come and see me or some shit. Like, why not just say that you’re fucking single and came to the gala for some clout?”

“Because it’s Kalia,” Tanner answered. “You know all that discreet shit flew out the window once we graduated high school.” I sighed listening to Tanner talk. I look at the mirror in my room as I listen to him speak on the phone. “What re you gonna do?”

“I gotta tell Kalia to set the deal straight,” I said, tying my hair up in a ponytail. “Like you’re not dragging me into this narrative just because you want to seem like your life is picture perfect.” I look down at my phone as it vibrates. I get a text from Dani saying “you better fucking explain this bullshit” with a link that shows a picture of Kalia and together at the gala, very much looking like a fucking couple.

“Dude, Dani just texted me the picture of Kalia and I,” I said as I scrolled down the article. “These fucking reporters would do anything for a paycheck. I’m gonna text you, I’m going to squash this shit with Kalia once and for all.” I hung up the phone and put my phone on my desk. I reached into the drawer of my desk and pull out another phone. I scroll down to Kalia’s contact and send her a message.

Micah: We need to talk, Kal.