I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck.

My stomach was in knots, my hands were clammy, and before I could even register the full weight of my anxiety, I was already sprinting to the bathroom.

Bryan was behind me within seconds, his voice still thick with sleep. "Amber?"

I barely heard him over the sound of me getting sick. My body betrayed me completely, wringing out every last bit of nervous energy in the absolute worst way.

I leaned against the cool porcelain sink, taking deep breaths, trying to will my body to calm down.

Bryan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking equal parts concerned and amused. "Damn, Lee. I know you're excited, but I didn't think you'd be this dramatic about it."

I groaned, grabbing my toothbrush and shooting him a glare. "Not funny."

He smirked, stepping forward until he was right behind me, his hands sliding to my waist as he dipped his head next to mine. His reflection in the mirror was annoyingly calm, while I looked like a complete mess.

"I'm just saying," he murmured against my hair. "You're the Sugar Plum Fairy, not a damsel in distress."

I sighed, spitting out the toothpaste, before resting my forehead against the mirror. "I know."

I had been waiting for this day for so long. I had worked harder than ever—through my injury, through the doubts, through all the sleepless nights where I second-guessed whether I deserved this role at all. But now that it was here, now that I was just hours away from stepping on stage, my body had decided to panic.

Bryan tilted his head slightly, watching me through the mirror. "Wanna get back in bed for a bit? You still look kinda pale."

I shook my head. "No, I'll be fine. Just needed to get it out of my system."

His grip on my waist tightened slightly. "You sure?"

I turned to him, my lips curving into a small, tired smile. "You're sweet when you're worried."

Bryan huffed, rolling his eyes. "Shut up."

I grinned, and before he could pull away, I grabbed the front of his hoodie and kissed him.

It was soft, reassuring, just enough to remind me that I wasn't alone in this. Bryan had been there every step of the way—pushing me, teasing me, believing in me even when I didn't believe in myself.

When I pulled back, his smirk was softer this time.

"Better?" he murmured.

I nodded, exhaling slowly. "Yeah."

"Good," he said, kissing my forehead. "Now let's go. Lily's been ready for like, an hour."

—-----

The car ride to the studio was loud.

Mostly because Lily wouldn't stop talking.

She sat in the backseat, practically bouncing with excitement, listing off every single detail about her part in The Nutcracker while I tried to focus on breathing like a normal human being.

"I'm gonna spin so fast today," she declared, grinning. "And all my friends are gonna be there! And I get to wear my polka-dot skirt! It's my favorite costume."

I smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "You're gonna be amazing."

Lily beamed at me. "So are you!"

Bryan chuckled, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "See? Even Lily knows you have nothing to worry about."

I sighed, sinking back into the seat. "That makes one of us."

Bryan glanced at me, one hand reaching over to squeeze my thigh reassuringly. "You've done this a million times, Lee."

"Not as the Sugar Plum Fairy."

He smirked. "Same stage, same routine. Just a shinier costume."

I groaned, covering my face. "I hate you."

Lily giggled. "You love him."

I peeked at her through my fingers, narrowing my eyes. "Who's side are you on?"

She giggled even harder. "The winning side."

Bryan full-on laughed, pulling into the parking lot. "Smart kid."

I groaned, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I need new friends."

Bryan smirked, leaning over to kiss my cheek before I could get out of the car. "Too late. You're stuck with us."

The moment we stepped into the studio, the energy shifted completely.

The dressing rooms were bustling with dancers, the air thick with nerves and excitement. The younger kids were already in costume, buzzing around in a mess of tutus and tights, while the older dancers were warming up in front of the mirrors, their movements calm, precise, focused.

Lily immediately spotted her group and ran off, waving enthusiastically over her shoulder. "See you on stage, Miss Amber!"

I waved back, smiling despite the nerves pressing against my ribs.

Bryan walked me toward my dressing room, his pace slower, more deliberate, like he knew I was on the verge of freaking out.

He stopped just before the door, turning to face me, his hands resting on my hips.

"You good?" he asked, studying me carefully.

I let out a breath, nodding. "Yeah."

He raised a brow. "Liar."

I groaned, pressing my forehead against his chest. "I just... I need this to go well."

Bryan's fingers traced slow circles on my lower back, grounding me. "It will."

I pulled back, searching his face. "How are you so sure?"

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Because you're you."

I blinked.

"That's not an answer."

Bryan laughed, leaning down until his lips brushed mine. "Yes, it is."

His kiss was slow, steady, the kind that made my entire body relax despite the anxiety still twisting in my stomach. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed over my cheek, his expression softer now.

"Go get ready, Ballerina."

I swallowed hard, feeling a little lighter, a little steadier.

"Okay."

The moment I stepped into the dressing room, the nerves returned full force.

It wasn't just excitement—it was that jittery, heart-pounding feeling that made my stomach flip, that made my hands a little unsteady as I pulled my dance bag onto the counter. The room was already buzzing with energy, dancers moving around in various states of preparation. Some were doing last-minute stretches, others fixing their makeup in the large mirror lined with bright bulbs.

The scent of hairspray, fabric, and faint perfume filled the air, mixing with the quiet hum of classical music playing softly in the background. It was the same chaotic routine as always, but tonight, it felt different.

Because tonight, I was the Sugar Plum Fairy.

I took a slow breath, trying to steady myself as I unzipped my bag. My costume was already waiting for me, hanging neatly on the rack in the corner. The deep violet bodice shimmered under the lights, embroidered with delicate silver details that sparkled just enough to make it feel like something out of a dream. The soft tutu, layered and elegant, was waiting for me to step into it, to make me feel like I belonged in this role.

I ran my fingers over the fabric, still finding it hard to believe this was mine. That I had earned this.

"Are you going to stare at it all night, or are you actually going to put it on?"

I turned just in time to see one of the older dancers, smirking at me from across the room. She was already in her costume, adjusting her headpiece with practiced ease.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I was having a moment."

She laughed, walking over to me. "You better start having a 'getting ready' moment before Mrs. Lawson comes in here and sees you standing around like a lost child."

I groaned, but she wasn't wrong. Our instructor had a sixth sense for slacking, and if she caught me not dressed this close to curtain call, she would probably have a heart attack.

I quickly changed into my tights and leotard, then carefully stepped into my tutu, adjusting the bodice so it fit snugly against me. The second I looked in the mirror, I felt something shift inside me.

I looked like the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Now I just had to dance like one.

The dancer came up behind me, fixing one of the straps on my shoulders. "You nervous?"

I let out a breathy laugh. "Beyond nervous."

She smiled, meeting my gaze in the mirror. "Good. That means it matters."

I swallowed, nodding, trying to let that sink in.

"Also," she added, grinning now. "Your boyfriend is literally standing outside the dressing room like some kind of bodyguard."

My face heated instantly. "Oh my god."

"Like, I think he's scaring the younger dancers."

I groaned, pressing my hands to my face. "I told him to go find a seat!"

"Yeah, well, he clearly didn't listen," she said, laughing. "You want me to tell him to back off before he makes someone cry?"

I sighed, half-annoyed, half-flustered. "No. I'll handle it."

I stepped out of the dressing room, adjusting my tutu so it sat comfortably at my waist, expecting to see Bryan casually leaning against the wall, maybe smirking like he wasn't making a scene.

Instead, I found him full-on standing in the middle of the hall, arms crossed, giving off the kind of presence that screamed Do not approach me unless you are Amber Lee or my nine-year-old sister.

Lily stood next to him, chatting away like she didn't notice the way the other dancers gave him nervous glances before scurrying past.

I let out a breath, marching up to him. "Bryan, what are you doing?"

He turned to me, and for a second, his smirk faltered. His eyes swept over me in my costume, his usual cockiness replaced by something softer, something unreadable.

I shifted under his gaze. "What?"

He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Nothing."

Lily grinned up at me. "He was telling me that if anyone messes with you, he'll beat them up."

I whipped my head toward Bryan. "Bryan!"

He shrugged, completely unbothered. "I was just making sure no one tried anything."

"They are literal children."

"You never know."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Please go sit down. You're making people nervous."

Bryan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Fine. But only because you asked so nicely."

Lily tugged on his sleeve. "Come on! We have to get our seats before it starts!"

He finally moved, but just before leaving, he leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "You look beautiful, Amber."

My breath caught, heat creeping up my neck.

Before I could respond, he straightened, winking at me before walking away like he hadn't just turned my brain into complete mush.

As I stepped back into the wings of the stage, the reality of the moment truly hit me.

This was it.

The orchestra warmed up just beyond the curtain, the strings tuning, the faint sounds of woodwinds and brass mixing into a beautiful mess of sound. The entire cast was in position, some stretching, some bouncing on the balls of their feet, shaking out nerves.

I stood near the edge of the stage, my hands lightly clenched at my sides.

This was the moment I had worked for, the moment I had fought to get back to after my injury, after all the doubt.

I took a slow breath, closing my eyes.

Then, I felt a small tug on my hand.

I turned to find Lily, standing beside me in her Polichinelle costume, grinning up at me.

"You're gonna be amazing," she whispered.

My chest tightened. I knelt down, fixing the bow on her costume, smiling. "So are you."

She beamed, then whispered, "Bryan's gonna cry."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I doubt that."

The lights dimmed.

The orchestra fell into silence.

Then, the soft, familiar melody of The Nutcracker overture filled the theater.

I exhaled, straightening, shoulders back, chin high.

The moment the curtain rose, the audience fell into silence.

The overture swelled around me, the familiar notes washing away every last bit of doubt I had left. The nerves were still there, humming under my skin, but the second my feet moved, the second I stepped onto that stage, something clicked.

This was my world.

The opening scenes played out beautifully, the stage coming to life with a whirlwind of dancers moving in perfect harmony. The younger cast members—**Lily included—**performed their scenes with infectious energy, their excitement radiating off the stage. Every pirouette, every leap, every delicate movement flowed like magic.

I waited in the wings, my hands clasped together, my body thrumming with anticipation.

Then, my cue came.

The music shifted, the first notes of the Sugar Plum Fairy's variation filling the theater.

I stepped forward, the stage lights illuminating my costume, turning the soft violet fabric into something almost ethereal. My pointe shoes pressed into the stage, and I lifted onto the tips of my toes, arms floating effortlessly into position.

And then, I danced.

The first few steps were steady, controlled, my body remembering every movement, every count of the music. My arms extended gracefully, my feet gliding across the stage with each delicate step.

The tension in my chest unraveled, replaced by pure focus, pure joy.

I lost myself in it, in the rhythm, in the way my body moved exactly as it was trained to. Every pirouette, every controlled balance, every perfectly timed arabesque—it all felt effortless, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Then came the moment I had been dreading the most.

The pirouette sequence.

It was one of the hardest sections in the variation—a long series of fast, controlled turns en pointe, requiring precision, balance, and strength. My body had been pushed to its limit these past few weeks, and I knew that if there was anywhere I could mess up, it was here.

I lifted my arms into position, inhaling sharply, and began to spin.

One, two, three—my body moved instinctively, my muscles carrying me forward.

Five, six—I was still strong, still balanced, but the lights felt dizzying, the rush of movement overwhelming.

Eight, nine—my ankle wobbled slightly, panic seizing my chest for a split second.

No. I could do this.

I pushed forward, finding my spot, grounding myself.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve—I held my core tight, using every ounce of control I had.

And then, with one final turn, I landed perfectly.

The relief nearly knocked the breath out of me, but I didn't let it show. I kept moving, flowing into the next step as though I had never doubted myself.

And as I turned my head slightly, I caught Bryan in the audience.

He was sitting near the front, his expression unreadable—but his eyes were locked on me, completely transfixed.

And next to him, Lily was literally bouncing in her seat, clapping excitedly even though she wasn't supposed to.

I almost laughed mid-spin.

But I held it together, finishing my final movement with a perfect flourish, my arms lifting above my head as I froze in position, the last note of the music hanging in the air.

For a split second, everything was silent.

Then, the audience erupted into applause.

As soon as we stepped off stage, the dressing rooms became a madhouse.

Dancers hugged, makeup smudged from sweat, voices overlapping in a chaotic blend of relief and celebration. Mrs. Lawson even cracked a rare smile, clapping me on the shoulder as she passed by.

"Impressive work, Amber," she said simply.

And from her? That was basically a standing ovation.

I barely had time to sit down before the door burst open, and Lily came flying into my dressing room.

"Miss Amber, that was AMAZING!" she practically yelled, throwing herself at me.

I laughed, catching her easily as she hugged me like I had just won an Olympic medal. "Lily, you were amazing, too! I saw your spins—they were perfect."

She gasped, pulling back dramatically. "Really?"

I nodded seriously. "Really."

Before she could respond, another presence entered the room.

Bryan.

And he was holding the biggest bouquet of flowers I had ever seen.

I blinked, my brain short-circuiting.

"Where did you even—" I started, but Bryan just shrugged like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Relax, Amber. I know you're obsessed with me, but the flowers are the important part."

I rolled my eyes, but my face was already burning. "Shut up."

Lily giggled, bouncing beside him. "Bryan said you'll have flowers for every show, even the ones he can't come to."

My stomach flipped.

My heart stopped.

I turned to Bryan, my lips parting slightly. "You did?"

His smirk softened, his fingers tapping against the bouquet lightly. "Yeah. You'll always have them waiting. Even if I can't be here."

Something inside me cracked—the nerves, the doubts, everything.

Because he wasn't just saying good job with these flowers.

He was saying, I'm not going anywhere.

I swallowed hard, my fingers shaky as I reached out and took the bouquet.

It was heavy in my hands, full of deep purple and white flowers, wrapped neatly with a satin ribbon.

I looked back up at Bryan, unsure of how to put into words what this meant.

"Thank you," I said softly.

Bryan's smirk returned, but it was softer now. "I mean, I guess you deserved them."

Lily giggled. "He almost cried."

Bryan's head snapped toward her. "I did not."

Lily nodded aggressively. "Yes, you did! You got all serious, and you didn't even blink for a long time."

I grinned, biting my lip. "Really?"

Bryan shot me a warning look. "Lee."

Lily gasped. "Miss Amber, do you know what he said when you did your first spin?"

Bryan groaned. "Lily, don't—"

"He said, 'Holy sh—'"

Bryan clapped a hand over her mouth. "Okay, bedtime for you."

I was cry-laughing at this point.

Lily wiggled out of his grip, giggling uncontrollably. "You were so amazed! Admit it!"

Bryan sighed, rubbing his temple before looking at me. "You're a bad influence."

I smirked, basking in my victory. "You love it."

He huffed, shaking his head, but his smirk gave him away.

And as I sat there, still in my costume, still coming down from the high of performing, I realized something.

Tonight, I had danced like I had never been injured.

Like I had never doubted myself.

And when Bryan looked at me like that—like I was unstoppable, like I was his favorite thing to watch—I started to believe it too.

Just as I was still trying to process everything—the performance, the applause, the fact that Bryan had just casually declared he'd send me flowers for every show like it was no big deal—the dressing room door flew open.

And by flew, I mean it slammed against the wall so hard that half the people in the hallway probably jumped.

"AMBER LEE."

I didn't even have to turn around.

Isabella had arrived.

Before I could blink, she came barreling toward me, her dress swishing dramatically, her heels clicking against the floor like a woman on a mission.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," she was saying, her hands flailing as she gestured wildly at me. "YOU WERE AMAZING. I CRIED. I LITERALLY CRIED. AMBER, I CAN'T BREATHE."

I braced myself just in time before she crashed into me, wrapping me in the tightest hug of my life.

"You're suffocating me," I wheezed.

"GOOD," she shrieked, pulling back just enough to grab my face between both hands. "How are you real? HOW?"

Bryan, still standing next to me holding my massive bouquet of flowers, cleared his throat. "You should've seen her backstage before the show."

Isabella whipped her head around so fast I thought she might get whiplash. "WHAT? AMBER, WERE YOU NERVOUS? DID YOU CRY? WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME?"

I groaned. "I didn't cry!"

Bryan smirked. "She threw up, though."

I slapped his arm immediately. "STOP EXPOSING ME."

Isabella gasped, clutching her chest like I had just told her I was dying. "YOU PUKED?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically from the sidelines. "She did. But then Bryan rubbed her back and—"

"LILY, SHH," I interrupted, my face heating to levels that were probably unhealthy.

Bryan, of course, was fully enjoying himself, smirking like he was the funniest person alive.

Isabella turned back to me, hands on her hips, still dramatically emotional. "Okay, but even if you threw up, it doesn't matter because OH MY GOD. I'm so proud of you."

Something in my chest tightened, warmth filling every inch of me.

"Thanks, Izzy," I said, softer now.

She sniffled, blinking rapidly. "No, like. I mean it. This was—this was next level, Amber. I knew you were good, but this?" She exhaled, shaking her head. "This was magic."

I swallowed, the emotions threatening to overwhelm me again.

But before I could say anything, Isabella's entire demeanor shifted as she finally noticed the massive bouquet in Bryan's hands.

Her eyes widened.

She turned to him, slowly.

"WHAT. IS. THAT?"

Bryan blinked. "Flowers?"

She pointed dramatically. "DID YOU JUST CASUALLY HAND HER A ROM-COM LEVEL BOUQUET LIKE IT'S NORMAL?"

Bryan, unbothered, just shrugged. "She deserved them."

I saw it happen in real time.

Isabella lost her mind.

"Oh. My. God," she gasped, turning to me with wide eyes. "He's in love with you."

"Isabella."

"HE'S LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU."

Bryan snorted. "Took you long enough to figure that out."

I covered my burning face with my hands, groaning. "I hate everyone in this room."

Lily giggled. "No, you don't."

Bryan smirked, leaning down slightly. "You love me, though."

Isabella squealed.

I gave up.

Tonight was officially too much.