My Addiction: So You Think You Can Dance Update

Thursday, January 14, 2016

So You Think You Can Dance Update

SYTYCD Chapter Three Update on FicPad

SYTYCD Chapter Three Update on AO3

SYTYCD Chapter Three Update on FFn

SYTYCD Chapter Three Update on TWCS

“Isabella Marie, you’ve got to read this!” squealed my roommate and best friend, Rosalie. I was eating breakfast, preparing for another long day in classes, working on getting my degree in elementary education.

You need to have another plan, Isabella. You’re not going to be able dance forever. You shouldn’t be dancing at all, you ungrateful brat. I rolled my eyes at my mother’s voice in my head. She was the ungrateful one. I will never forget the sacrifice my father gave in order for me to continue to dance.

Rose slammed a paper down in front of me – breaking me from my reverie - advertising auditions for my favorite show, So You Think You Can Dance? “We’re soooooooooooo going!”

“No, we’re not,” I said, pushing the paper away and shaking my head emphatically. “I can’t … I just …”

“Bullshit,” Rose spat. “Look at me.” She grasped my chin, glaring into my eyes. She was fierce, angry and not going to take no for an answer. “Don’t let that bitch tell you can’t live out your dreams. Your dad would have wanted you to try out. And don’t use that excuse of your knee … it’s better. Your doctors have cleared you to dance.”

I pinched my nose. “Do I even want it anymore?” I asked, glaring at her.

“I saw a glimmer of happiness on your face, Bells,” Rose said, her expression softening. “You want this. Your dad wanted this for you. He loved you …”

I screwed my eyes shut, trying not to cry and remembering my father. He had loved me, fought for me and did everything to make my dreams of being a dancer a reality. Until he got shot in a burglary gone wrong. He had picked up extra shifts to help pay for the rehabilitation that I needed to recuperate my botched up knee. If he hadn’t been working, he would still be alive. If I hadn’t had my dream of dancing, my father would still be here and loving me. Not buried six feet underground, rotting in the Forks Cemetery.

“Bells, listen to me. We go and audition,” Rose said, taking my hands in hers. “What’s the worst that could happen? They say no?”

“The opposite. They say yes,” I hissed, thrusting my hands into my hair.