Chapter 32
Ellie's POV
The stage lights blazed like a small sun as Jackson and I took our positions. For a moment, the brightness made me dizzy, but then the opening beats of our street dance track dropped, and instinct took over.
My stomach dropped. There, in the third row, directly in front of the stage, sat Lucas and Samantha. She was leaning toward him, her expression pinched with what looked like anger. Her mouth moved rapidly—clearly arguing about something. Lucas's jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on the stage even though the curtain was still closed.
"You don't have to look at them," Jackson said softly. "You're not performing for them."
He was right. I refused to look at the audience. Refused to search for Lucas's face or register Samantha's inevitable glare. Instead, I poured everything into the movement—the sharp precision of each gesture, the explosive power of the choreography Jackson had modified just for me.
We moved together like we'd been partners for years instead of weeks. When I spun into his arms during the first lift, his strength supported me effortlessly. The music pounded through my body, drowning out the moon's whisper, replacing it with rhythm and purpose.
The crowd's energy shifted—I could feel it even without looking. The initial polite attention transformed into genuine excitement. Someone started clapping along with the beat. Then more joined in.
I caught Jackson's eye as we executed a synchronized break sequence. He grinned—an expression I'd rarely seen on his usually composed face—and suddenly I was grinning too, adrenaline and joy overriding every other sensation.
This, I thought as we moved into the routine's most demanding section, this is what I'm capable of. This is who I am.
Not Lucas's discarded childhood friend. Not the girl who'd let herself be broken by betrayal. Not even just a college freshman trying to fit in.
We were midway through the routine's climax—a rapid-fire sequence that had the audience on their feet—when I heard it.
"THAT GIRL IS AMAZING! SHE'S MY ROOMMATE!"
Megan's voice cut through the music like a foghorn, followed immediately by Lily's higher-pitched shriek: "ELLIE! ELLIE! YOU'RE THE BEST!"
I nearly stumbled. Jackson caught my hand, spinning me back into position while I processed what had just happened. My roommates were literally standing in the auditorium, screaming my name, completely shameless in their enthusiasm.
Something warm bloomed in my chest, pushing back against the cold pressure of the moon. This was what support looked like—loud, unapologetic, impossible to ignore. Not the conditional concern Lucas had offered, or the manipulative games Samantha played. Just pure, genuine friendship.
The realization freed something inside me. My movements became even more confident, more me. I stopped dancing for perfection and started dancing for joy. For Megan and Lily screaming themselves hoarse. For Jackson's steady partnership. For myself.
In my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of Lucas. He was staring at the stage with an expression I couldn't quite name—shock, maybe, or recognition. Something that looked almost like regret.
Beside him, Samantha's perfectly manicured fingers dug into his arm, her knuckles white with tension. Her face was a study in barely contained fury.
Good, Thalia purred inside me. Let them watch. Let them see what they lost.
For once, I didn't argue with her.
The final beat dropped. Jackson and I froze in our ending pose, chests heaving, as the audience erupted. The applause was deafening—genuine, enthusiastic, exactly what every performer hopes for. We bowed together, his hand finding mine naturally, and the cheering somehow got even louder.
As we exited stage left, the backstage coordinator was already ushering the next performers into position. The narrow passage behind the curtain was controlled chaos, and that's where we ran into Brianna.
She looked stunning in her replaced costume—a deep purple velvet gown that caught the light perfectly.
"Ellie," she breathed, reaching out to touch my arm. "I don't know how to thank you. If you hadn't caught those sabotaged pieces..." Her voice cracked. "I would have fallen apart on stage. Literally and figuratively."
I squeezed her hand, making eye contact. Then I raised my other hand in a simple thumbs-up gesture, accompanied by what I hoped was an encouraging nod. You've got this. Go show them.
Brianna's expression transformed. She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath that seemed to reach her toes, and turned toward the stage with newfound confidence. Just before she stepped into the wings, she looked back and mouthed thank you one more time.
The backstage common area had transformed into an impromptu celebration space. Several performers had already finished their sets, and a surprising number of audience members had found their way back to offer congratulations.
A lanky freshman guy I vaguely recognized from campus approached with a bouquet of sunflowers. "You were incredible," he said, blushing. "These are for you."
"Thank you," I replied, accepting the flowers with genuine warmth. They smelled like sunshine and autumn—refreshingly free of any silver content.
Jackson was surrounded by his own admirers, mostly girls from the music society clutching roses and lilies. He accepted each bouquet with his characteristic polite smile, but I noticed his eyes kept tracking back to me.
"ELLIE!" Two familiar voices shrieked in unison, and suddenly I was engulfed in a double tackle-hug from Megan and Lily.
"Oh my GOD," Megan squealed directly into my ear. "You were INSANE up there! I literally could not believe—"
"The way you moved!" Lily interrupted. "And that lift sequence! I was recording the whole thing, we're watching it on repeat forever—"
"You guys stood up and screamed my name in front of the entire auditorium," I said, but I was laughing, unable to hold onto even the pretense of embarrassment.
"Damn right we did!" Megan pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. "That's what roommates do. We're your personal hype squad."
"Ride or die," Lily added solemnly, then immediately giggled. "Okay, that sounded way more intense than I meant, but seriously, Ellie, you were amazing."
Their enthusiasm was infectious, filling the hollow spaces that Lucas's betrayal had carved out. This was what belonging felt like—messy and loud and completely unconditional.
"Come on," Lily tugged at my arm. "We need to get back to our seats. Brianna's performing next, and then there's this contemporary piece that's supposed to be really good—"
"Plus we need to stake out premium spots for the final group number," Megan added. "Strategic positioning is crucial."
Over their shoulders, I saw Jackson extracting himself from his fan club. He caught my eye, gave a slight nod, and headed toward the exit.
I let them pull me toward the auditorium entrance, my arms full of flowers, my cheeks hurting from smiling. Behind us, the stage lights blazed and music swelled as Brianna began her performance.