Hello!! Sorry for not updating ive been having a hard time trying to make concepts for the reqs you guys been giving me...but dw ill might randomly post soon. I already have 5 fics ready to upload, im just finishing the others and editing it so please be patient😞. If you dont see any of your reqs to the fics im drooping soon please dont be angry or sad...im just trying to get a really good storyline for it (English is not my first language so if you see any error please do tell me...ill fix it🤓)
Heyyyy i just wanna let you guys know that i cant really write smut..not because i cant write the actions and stuff...its because i always laught at it. Like i mentally cannot write smut without laughing at it and the translation also f^ck it up. Sooo yeahh..but if you want me to write smut give me a scenario first- i might consider it
also me: actually i’m going to spend the next 40 minutes lying on the floor while my brain plays a movie trailer for a novel that doesn’t exist and that i will never write. but it’s a really good trailer
Reading my own fanfiction is basically just a rollercoaster of emotional whiplash.
20% of the time: “Hold on. I wrote this? This is fire. This is emotionally devastating in the best way. This scene is dripping with tension. I’m a literary perfectionist. Someone give me a book deal.”
80% of the time: “Straight to jail. Immediate prison. Why is everyone’s breath hitching?. I used the word ‘gaze’ three times in one paragraph like I was possessed. Did I think 'his eyes darkened' was profound? Why is everyone clenching their jaws? Why is someone whispering 'their name like a prayer' again?? No one talks like this. What is this dialogue. Why are there so many weird metaphors and em-dashes…”
note^^ The ending depends on you guys. comment on you guys wanna end up with<3 or vote lol
The sound of sneakers scuffing polished floors and bass-heavy beats echoing through the studio signaled another long day of rehearsals. Six international dance crews had gathered in Seoul for the competition of the year, and tensions ran high. Rivalries formed fast, friendships even faster but amidst the chaos, three names quietly started weaving into each other's fates.
Vanessa of AG Squad.
Moana of Royal Family.
And Reader, the quiet mystery from Ojo Gang.
Everyone noticed Reader on the first day. It wasn't because she was loud or commanding on the contrary, it was her silence that made heads turn. Tall and calm, with an unreadable expression and slow, deliberate movements, she carried a kind of "don't mess with me" energy. Her short, sharp performances on stage were mesmerizing, full of control and intensity, yet offstage, she mostly stayed to herself, sitting in corners with headphones on, avoiding unnecessary interaction.
Moana was the first to get curious.
It started when she caught herself glancing at the Ojo Gang crew during the second rehearsal day. Her eyes would always find Reader sometimes stretching silently in the corner, other times calmly nodding at her teammates with a soft smile that made Moana's heart skip.
"Yo, who you watching?" Tiare teased, nudging her elbow.
"No one," Moana replied too fast, cheeks turning red.
But she didn't stop watching.
Vanessa, on the other hand, hadn't paid much attention at first. She was busy practicing with AG Squad Kaea running the team like a ship captain, Kaleece and Aaliyah teasing each other between routines. But during a break, Vanessa caught sight of Moana acting suspiciously giddy, trying to look nonchalant while clearly eyeing someone across the room.
Following Moana's gaze, Vanessa saw Reader.
The girl wasn't doing anything special just sitting cross-legged against the mirrored wall, sipping on water, earphones in. But something about her looked effortlessly cool. The loose black hoodie, the sharp jawline, the sleepy yet unreadable gaze. And tall. Vanessa liked tall girls.
"Huh," Vanessa muttered. "She's kinda hot."
Aaliyah looked up from her phone. "Who?"
Vanessa smirked. "Don't worry about it."
From that moment on, Vanessa's mission wasn't just winning the dance battles. It was getting to know that girl from Ojo Gang.
---
It became obvious pretty fast that both Moana and Vanessa were trying to get Reader's attention.
Moana was subtle she offered bottled water during breaks, smiled across the room, and once, deliberately sat beside Reader in the hallway during downtime.
"You killed it today," she whispered, trying to start small talk.
Reader looked at her, blinked once, then nodded. "Thanks."
Silence.
Moana bit her lip. She was not used to being the one flustered in a conversation. "You always dance like that?"
"...I guess," Reader replied.
Still, she didn't walk away. She didn't smile either, but Moana felt like that neutral expression held something gentle.
Meanwhile, Vanessa had her own methods.
She wasn't subtle.
She waved dramatically from the other side of the hall when their paths crossed. She called out, "Ey Ojo Queen!" during rehearsals. She even walked up to Reader during meal breaks.
Reader looked up from her rice bowl and nodded. "Sometimes it's better."
Vanessa blinked. "Better?"
"Yeah. Less energy to waste on noise."
Vanessa didn't know whether to be offended or impressed. "Okay cool mysterious ninja, I'll remember that."
But Reader didn't smile. Not even once.
Both girls were confused. Was she cold? Was she shy? Was she just not interested?
The thing was Reader *did* notice both Moana and Vanessa. She just didn't know what to do about it.
---
Reader's POV:
*Why are they looking at me again?*
*Vanessa's loud. She's cool though. Confident. I don't know how to respond when she talks. I feel like I blink too much. Moana's smile is soft. She smells like vanilla. Do people notice smells this much? I think I'm malfunctioning.*
*I should just keep making beats after rehearsal. Less pressure. Less eye contact.*
---
A free day finally came a rare moment of peace between battles. Crews were told they could go out and explore, and just have fun.
Moana made her move first.
"Hey," she said casually as Reader passed by in the hotel lobby. "I was gonna go grab a coffee. Wanna join?"
Reader blinked. "Alone?"
"Just me and you."
Reader stared for a second too long, and Moana started regretting everything.
"...You don't have to," Moana said quickly.
"No," Reader said softly. "I'll come."
Moana almost screamed inside.
They went to a quiet café with plants by the windows. Moana talked the most, asking about Ojo Gang, Japan, Reader's favorite snacks. Reader answered simply, and even cracked a half-smile when Moana admitted that she sometimes takes long to edit some of royal family videos on purpose due to her laziness.
"Your face says everything," Reader said, and Moana felt like she won a secret prize.
But someone else was watching.
From a bench outside the convenience store nearby, Vanessa, mid snack-run, saw them through the window.
She squinted.
Was that Moana?
With her?
Vanessa nearly dropped her snacks.
She stormed into the AG Squad hotel room after.
"She took her on a date!"
"Who?" Kaleece asked without looking up.
"Moana!"
"...Rf..Moana?"
"Yes obviously. She's trying to get with Reader!"
"Oh," Aaliyah snorted. "You mean the Ojo Gang chick you lowkey thirst over?"
Vanessa pointed a dramatic finger. "This means war."
note^^ Just to let you guys know- i love angst and ive been holding back any angst fics cause i dont wanna hurt you guys...i might start really doing more angst>:]
The stage was glowing. The crowd roared, thousands of voices blending into one deafening wave. The final results of *World of Street Woman Fighter* were moments away, and the top two crews stood side by side AG Squad and the powerful Team Japan.
Kaea stood at the front of her crew, sweat still glistening on her temples, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Her limbs ached, her ribs hurt from dancing too hard, but her heart pounded with something far heavier than fatigue.
She wasn't scared of the outcome. Not really. They had given everything. They had poured their hearts onto that stage and left it all there. The choreography. The message. The story. It was raw and painful and perfect.
But still...
Her eyes drifted to the crowd. Desperately searching. Hoping.
Still no Reader.
Her stomach twisted, but she held it in.
*Maybe she's hiding. Maybe she didn't want to distract me.*
The host walked onto the stage with the envelope.
Kaea gripped Ruthy's hand tightly.
She didn't know if she was holding on for the announcement or just holding on for herself.
A spotlight cut through the darkness.
The crowd fell silent.
The host opened the card.
"In first place..."
Every breath hitched.
"...**Team Japan!**"
The crowd erupted.
Cheers. Screams. Confetti.
A second later, lights showered Team Japan in a flurry of gold. They screamed and fell into each other's arms, overwhelmed by the moment.
Kaea blinked once. Then again.
She didn't move.
Behind her, AG Squad stood frozen. A second of silence. A breath held between hearts.
Then Ruthy squeezed Kaea's shoulder and whispered, "We made it to the finals."
Kalea nodded. "We really did."
They didn't scream. Not at first. Their applause was quiet, soft claps and hushed congratulations between themselves. There were a few watery smiles, tired chuckles. Kyra pulled Kaea into a hug. Vanessa wiped Kaleece teary eyes.
They were hurt but proud.
And slowly, as the reality sank in, they began to step forward, joining the other dancers at center stage. There were hugs exchanged with Team Japan, laughter in between exhaustion, and genuine celebration for dance, for survival, for each other.
Then it happened.
Kaea smiled through the lights just a little. Her shoulders loosened. Her head dropped for a moment.
And she cried.
Not loudly.
Not out of bitterness.
But out of pure, aching **relief**.
For surviving the competition. For carrying the weight of leadership. For doing it all without knowing if Reader would make it.
And part of her hoped believed that maybe Reader was out there, watching her cry like a fool on stage, and smiling.
Maybe that's why she finally allowed herself to let go.
Tears streamed down Kaea's face as AG Squad gathered around her, forming a circle with her at the center. They didn't question the tears. They understood.
Because this wasn't just a loss.
It was a goodbye to a journey that changed them all.
And they were together.
Still standing.
Still proud.
Still dancing.
---
The lights dimmed slowly after the winner's encore stage. Confetti still littered the ground like remnants of a dream, sticking to Kaea's skin, her shoes, even in her hair. She didn't bother brushing it off.
She sat near the edge of the stage now, her back hunched forward, arms resting over her knees. Her crew was somewhere nearby, laughing softly, taking photos with the other dancers, staff, and their family members who came. AG Squad had begun to smile again. And they deserved to.
They had fought hard.
And they had made it to the end.
Kaea should've felt proud. She *was* proud.
But something inside her felt... off.
Reader still hadn't called. Still hadn't texted. Still hadn't shown her face.
And now that the performance was over, Kaea could no longer pretend it didn't hurt.
She pulled out her phone again.
No new messages.
No missed calls.
She opened their chat.
Her last message:
**"We're going on stage soon. Wish you were here ❤️"**
No reply.
She dialed.
Once. No answer.
She stared at the screen for a long time.
Tried again.
This time, someone picked up.
But it wasn't Reader.
"Hello?" a man's voice answered low, hesitant, formal.
Kaea's brows furrowed. "Hi... um, this is Kaea. I'm looking for Reader. Is this her phone?"
There was a long silence.
"...Is this her wife?" the voice asked gently.
Kaea's stomach dropped. Her lips moved, but no sound came.
"I—yes. I mean, not legally but... yes. I'm her partner. Why? Who is this?"
The man let out a slow breath. "I'm calling from Seoul General Hospital. I'm... I'm very sorry to tell you this."
The words hung in the air.
No.
No, no, no.
Please, God, no.
"There was a vehicular accident earlier this afternoon. A small taxi was struck by a delivery truck. The passenger Reader was rushed to our trauma center."
Kaea's vision blurred instantly. Her throat closed. The world went silent around her.
"She had severe internal injuries. We... we tried everything we could."
"Stop," Kaea whispered, her voice cracking. "Please don't."
"I'm so sorry. She didn't make it."
Her phone nearly slipped from her fingers. The floor beneath her disappeared.
Reader was gone.
Her Reader.
The one who stayed up late to watch her rehearse. Who would bring her honey water when her voice was tired. The one who kissed her knuckles before every battle, and whispered, *"You got this, babe."*
The person who had promised to be there.
She had come.
And she never made it.
Kaea couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't even cry.
"Kaea?" Ruthy's voice came from behind her, gentle, concerned. "Everything okay?"
Kaea turned slowly, her face pale.
"She's gone," she said flatly.
The phone dropped from her hand and clattered onto the stage floor.
Kaleece stepped forward quickly, catching her before she collapsed.
The entire crew rushed to her. But Kaea didn't hear them.
Didn't hear anything.
All she saw were the white roses she never received.
The AG Squad banner Reader probably held in her lap.
The front row seat that stayed empty.
She pressed her hands to her face and let out a sound low, broken, like something tearing apart inside her chest.
The world had ended, and no one had noticed.
---
**Later that night.**
The lights were off in the hotel room. Kaea sat on the edge of the bed, still in her stage clothes. Her makeup was smeared from crying. Her body was sore, but she couldn't feel a thing.
She held a small envelope in her hands.
The hospital staff had given it to her.
*Found in her coat pocket,* they said.
Her name was written on the front.
**Kaea.**
She stared at it for a long time.
Her fingers shook as she tore it open.
---
**The Letter:**
*Hey superstar,*
*I'm probably too shy to hand this to you myself, but I wrote this on the plane, just in case. You always tell me I'm too quiet, so here's me, being loud in writing, at least.*
*By the time you read this, I'll probably be somewhere in the crowd, screaming your name like a crazy fan. I probably bought too many snacks and held the banner upside down. I probably cried during your performance.*
*But I just wanted to say... thank you. For letting me love you. For being you. For never letting the world crush your light.*
*I don't care if you win or lose. I just care that you're dancing. That you're still chasing your dreams. That you still remember that you're not alone.*
*I'm always in the crowd for you, Kaea. Always.*
*I love you more than words.*
*Reader*
---
Kaea pressed the letter to her chest.
Her shoulders shook as she cried.
She didn't care if anyone heard her.
Reader had come. She really had.
And even if she never made it to the stage, she had made it to her heart.
The pain didn't go away. It wouldn't not for a long time.
But as Kaea closed her eyes and clutched the letter tighter, she swore she could hear her voice cheering from the back row.
*"You got this, babe."*
And for the first time that night, Kaea let herself whisper back, through the tears:
"I know."
---
**Sometime during the night**, after the tears had dried on her cheeks and her body gave in to exhaustion, Kaea drifted into a sleep so deep it felt like sinking underwater.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then...
She heard it.
Her name.
*"Kaea!"*
Loud and bright.
The sound she knew better than her own.
Her eyes opened slowly.
She was back on stage.
But the lights were different softer, golden like the sun was rising above her. The confetti hadn't fallen yet. The air was still.
AG Squad stood around her, all of them smiling, radiant, glowing. Their costumes were perfect, not a single rip or stain. The world felt... lighter.
Then she looked into the crowd.
And there she was.
**Reader.**
Smiling so big her eyes curved into half-moons. Holding an mnet provided lighticks in purple color since she wasnt allowed to bring in the banners
Her dark hair was tied in a messy ponytail. She was wearing that oversized hoodie Kaea loved stealing. Her lips were moving.
*Kaea! That's my girl! Look at you! I'm so proud of you!*
Reader was jumping, clapping, laughing like she always did when she was overexcited. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes never leaving Kaea.
Kaea froze.
"Reader?" she whispered.
Reader waved harder, then cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted:
**"You did it!"**
Kaea's legs moved before her mind did. She leapt off the stage, pushing past the other dancers, past the crowd, straight toward her. Her heart felt like it was going to burst.
People blurred. The lights dimmed.
Only Reader remained standing just behind the curtain, in the narrow hallway backstage.
Kaea ran to her.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just needed to touch her, to hold her.
Reader opened her arms.
Kaea reached out-
And then-
Darkness.
A cold breath of silence.
She jolted awake.
---
**Back in the hotel room.**
Kaea's body flinched violently. She sat up, chest heaving, a scream caught in her throat.
Sweat clung to her skin. Her pillow was damp. Her heart beat so loud it echoed in her ears.
"Reader?" she gasped.
She looked around.
The bed beside her was empty.
The corner where Reader's backpack used to sit was empty.
The couch where she would curl up with her laptop was empty.
Kaea's fingers curled into the sheets. Her body shook.
It wasn't real.
It had felt so real.
The warmth of her smile.
The sound of her voice.
The hug.
Gone.
All of it gone.
Kaea broke.
She screamed into her hands, raw and aching, until her voice cracked and her lungs gave out. She folded in on herself, forehead pressed to her knees, sobs ripping through her chest like knives.
She would never hear Reader cheer again.
Never see her in the crowd.
Never hold her after a show.
The letter, the roses, the missed calls it all rushed back in waves, and Kaea let herself drown in it.
Because now there was nothing left to hold onto but memories.
note^^ This was made yesterday cause i saw some anon requested an kaleece fic and i recently listen to an song where a girl fell inlove with their best friend older sibling sooo yeahhh..
The studio was buzzing but not in a chaotic way. Just the usual: music playing low, girls stretching, someone practicing a footwork combo in the mirror, and someone else lying on the floor mid-scroll through TikTok. The members of AG Squad were enjoying a rare chill day at the practice room no rehearsal schedules, no camera crews, no stress.
Kaleece had just finished tying her shoelaces when Vanessa spoke up, casually tossing her phone on the couch.
"Oh yeah, my older sister's dropping by later to give me something. Just a heads-up."
"Okay," Aaliyah said, upside-down in a handstand.
"Cool," Alysha added from the corner, not looking up from her instant noodles.
Kaleece didn't think anything of it. Just another sibling running errands. She didn't even know Vanessa had a sister, honestly.
But an hour later, the door opened with a soft knock and that's when Kaleece's world tilted.
Reader, Vanessa's older sister, walked in like the moment belonged to her. Not flashy. Not loud. Just... effortlessly cool.
Tall. Relaxed. Wearing a loose black hoodie, straight-leg jeans, and sneakers that had clearly been broken in just right. Her headphones hung lazily around her neck, and her hair was tied up in a messy bun that somehow still looked perfect.
She held a small box in one hand, a water bottle in the other.
"Yo," she said to Vanessa. "Your charger."
Vanessa jogged over, grinning. "Finally. I've been dying."
Kaleece, sitting nearby, felt her breath catch.
Reader turned toward the rest of the crew briefly. "Hey."
A simple word. But Kaleece heard it in surround sound.
She tried to stay normal cool, composed but her gaze kept locking on Reader like her brain refused to look anywhere else. She wasn't even sure what hit her so hard. Maybe it was the voice. Maybe the quiet confidence. Or maybe it was just... everything.
"You staying for a bit?" Vanessa asked.
"Yeah. You said not to leave right away."
"I did?"
Reader raised a brow.
Vanessa grinned. "Well... stay anyway."
Reader shrugged and sat down on the studio couch, pulling out her phone. And just like that, she was part of the room.
Kaleece tried not to stare. She failed.
Over the next hour, Kaleece found the most ridiculous excuses to hang near the couch.
"Oh, I forgot my towel." (Even though it was in her bag, across the room.)
"I think I dropped my phone somewhere near here." (She absolutely did not.)
"Hey, is this spot taken?" (It wasn't. Reader glanced up, confused but amused.)
By the end of the day, everyone had noticed.
Everyone.
Especially Vanessa.
She gave Kaleece a knowing smirk when Reader wasn't looking.
"You good?" Vanessa whispered while passing her a water bottle. "You look like you're about to faint."
Kaleece elbowed her lightly. "Shut up."
Days turned into weeks.
And Reader started visiting more often.
Sometimes to drop off Vanessa's stuff. Sometimes just because she felt like it. Sometimes because, let's be honest, Kaleece had gotten a little bold and started inviting her to watch rehearsals.
"It's cool if you stay," Kaleece would say, casually. "We need an outside eye."
"Yeah," Reader would nod, "I can do that."
She always sat in the back. Quiet. Observing. Occasionally filming clips on her phone and offering little tips, which were surprisingly good.
But more and more, she and Kaleece would end up talking on the studio floor long after everyone had left. Music low. Lights dim. Just them.
They talked about everything.
Music, art, stupid childhood stories.
Reader didn't say much at first but when she did open up, she was funny and thoughtful and weird in the best way.
And Kaleece? She was smitten.
After a few months, it was obvious something had shifted.
They were walking home together more often. Reader started waiting for Kaleece after practice, headphones ready to share. They'd text until 3am about movies they wanted to watch or songs they wanted to show each other.
One night, they ended up at a small food stall after practice. Kaleece was sipping cold soda while Reader quietly picked the sesame seeds off her bun, and then without much thought, Kaleece asked:
"Do you like me?"
Reader blinked. "Seriously?"
Kaleece laughed, cheeks pink. "Well—you make it hard to tell. You're all mysterious and chill and you never flirt back."
"I thought I was being obvious."
"You're literally made of poker face."
Reader leaned in, resting her elbow on the table. "Then I'll say it."
And she did.
"I like you, Kaleece. A lot."
Kaleece almost choked on her soda.
A week later, they were officially together.
Kaleece introduced Reader to her part of the world loud, chaotic, full of energy and love. Reader brought Kaleece into her quieter universe music-making nights, late-night walks, and slow afternoons filled with deep talks and playlists with meanings only they understood.
They didn't post right away.
But the crew found out quick.
Especially Vanessa who walked in on the two of them curled up under a blanket watching some documentary one afternoon.
She didn't even act surprised.
Just raised a brow and said, "You owe me, Kaleece. I delivered you your future girlfriend and didn't even charge interest."
"Shut up," Kaleece muttered, trying not to smile.
Vanessa just grinned and sat beside them, throwing popcorn at her sister. "Well, just don't break her heart, okay? I kind of like this one."
Not because you choose to hold on but because their love is etched into you like color into canvas. Permanent. Deep. Unavoidable.
For Reader, that person had always been Ally.
They grew up together in a sleepy suburb where the world was small, but their dreams were loud. Reader was all nervous energy and oversized sweaters. Ally was pure chaos in a ponytail climbing trees, laughing too loud, always dragging Reader into something reckless and wonderful.
They were thirteen when they kissed for the first time.
Under the bleachers after school, the world holding its breath. They didn't even talk about it afterward. Just smiled and laced fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
But two years later, Ally was gone.
Fifteen. A car accident.
It didn't feel real.
Reader stopped talking for a month. No dance. No laughter. Just silence.
Until one day, she picked up a paintbrush.
She started painting Ally. Over and over.
Not from photos, but from memory. From love. From grief that never quite found the right words.
It became a ritual. Her studio at home filled with canvases Ally in the field behind school. Ally twirling in Reader's oversized hoodie. Ally asleep in the sun, her smile soft and unguarded.
No one saw those paintings.
They were Reader's heart, locked away.
---
Years passed.
Reader joined a dance crew Motiv, a tight-knit collective of creative minds, each with their own flair. Reader didn't speak much in interviews. She let her movement and her artwork speak for her.
She still painted.
Always.
She never stopped dreaming of Ally.
Until the day she met Alysha.
---
They'd been invited to compete in a global dance competition in Seoul. The air buzzed with talent from all corners of the world.
It was on the second day of rehearsals that she saw her.
Alysha.
Reader's breath caught.
She was across the room, laughing with another dancer. Same laugh. Same smile. Same dimple on the left cheek. Her hair was tied up differently, her energy more grounded but God, the resemblance.
It hit Reader like lightning.
It wasn't Ally. Of course it wasn't. Ally was gone.
But for a second, her heart didn't know the difference.
Reader quickly turned away.
She didn't want to stare. Or make it weird.
But her hands were already twitching.
That night, she picked up her brush again.
And painted Alysha.
---
Reader didn't mean to turn Alysha into a muse.
It just... happened.
The first sketch had been quick Alysha mid-laugh, her braid flipping over her shoulder, an echo of a moment Ally once had. The second came the next day Alysha stretching before rehearsal, her focus intense. The third, the fourth, the fifth... all of them poured out of Reader's brush like breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
But they weren't Ally anymore.
Reader began noticing the differences.
Alysha moved sharper. Her style of dancing was clean, powerful, technical less wild than Ally's chaotic bursts. Her voice was deeper, her eyes calmer, and her laugh though similar had a softness to it. Where Ally was a firework, Alysha was a slow sunrise.
And that terrified Reader.
Because she didn't want to lose Ally all over again.
But maybe... maybe she wasn't losing anything.
Maybe she was gaining someone new.
---
It was after a late-night rehearsal that Alysha approached her.
"Hey," she said, her voice hesitant but warm. "You're Reader, right? From Motiv?"
Reader, caught off guard mid-sip of water, nodded.
Alysha smiled. "You paint, don't you? I saw one of your works during the opening week exhibit. The one with the girl in yellow on a rooftop."
Reader's heart skipped. That was the first painting she'd made of Alysha though she'd never told anyone.
"It was... really beautiful," Alysha continued. "Felt kinda familiar. Like I knew the person."
Reader swallowed. "You do," she said softly.
Alysha tilted her head. "Really?"
Reader hesitated. "You just remind me of someone I used to know."
Alysha nodded like she understood something deeper. "A good someone?"
Reader's eyes flickered to the floor. "The best."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Alysha gently said, "You know... if you ever want to paint me again, I wouldn't mind."
Reader blinked.
Alysha smiled, a little crooked, a little shy. "Only if you want. I mean I've never had someone paint me before. Not seriously. It's kind of... cool."
Reader found herself smiling for the first time in days. "Okay. I'd like that."
---
The next day, she painted her in red.
Not Ally's soft yellows, not pastel blues.
But crimson.
Alysha in mid-movement, her body coiled with strength, her jaw sharp with concentration. No ghost. No memory.
Just her.
Reader stared at the canvas after she finished.
And for the first time in years, she cried.
Not because she missed Ally but because she was letting her go.
---
They started spending more time together.
Not by design. It just happened.
They'd linger after rehearsals, talking about dumb things favorite snacks, worst choreography injuries, embarrassing high school dance videos.
Reader found herself laughing more. Relaxing more. She let Alysha see bits of her..her awkward humor, her quiet snorts, her weird habit of humming when nervous.
And Alysha didn't run.
She stayed.
She stayed through the awkward silences.
She stayed through the shy stammering.
She stayed when Reader finally said, "You look like someone I used to love."
Alysha didn't flinch.
"I kind of figured," she said gently. "You talk about her without saying her name."
Reader nodded. "Her name was Ally."
Alysha reached out, slowly, and took Reader's hand.
"I'm not her."
"I know."
"But I'd still like to know you. As me."
Reader's eyes blurred.
She squeezed Alysha's hand. "I'd like that too."
---
They didn't kiss right away.
Reader thought maybe they would..when Alysha held her hand that day, when they shared that quiet moment after rehearsal under the flickering hallway light.
But it wasn't the time yet.
Instead, they sat there, fingers laced, letting the stillness speak.
And that was enough.
---
Reader started painting again but differently this time.
No more blending Ally's memory into Alysha's movements.
Now, she painted Alysha with her own colors.
Bright crimson, deep greens, firelight orange. Alysha smiling while stretching on the floor. Alysha with her chin tilted up during a freestyle. Alysha, mid-yawn, hair a mess during warm-ups.
She started painting her 'as she saw her now' not a memory, not a shadow, but a woman fully alive.
And each painting felt lighter.
Like breathing.
Like love.
---
On the final week of the competition, everything came to a head.
Motiv had just placed top three in the semi-finals. The energy in the hotel was electric everyone celebrating, laughing, blasting music. But Reader ducked out early.
She needed quiet.
She went back to her room, where her canvas waited.
She hadn't meant to paint Alysha again but her hand moved on its own.
This time, the image that came through wasn't a performance.
It was Alysha curled up on the couch, half-asleep, wearing Reader's hoodie.
Reader hadn't seen that version of her yet.
But she 'wanted' to.
When she finished, she stared at it a long time.
Then she knew.
She couldn't hide anymore.
---
The next night, she invited Alysha over.
They sat on the balcony of the hotel, the city lights below flickering like stars that had fallen just out of reach.
"I need to show you something," Reader said.
Alysha glanced over, curious. "What is it?"
Reader led her inside. Her suitcase lay open on the bed, but beside it leaned against the wall where all the canvases.
The new ones.
And the old ones, too.
She hadn't planned to show them all. But something told her... this was the moment.
She watched Alysha kneel down, lifting each piece one by one. Her expression shifted surprise, awe, quiet tenderness.
Then she reached the final one.
The newest.
Alysha in Reader's hoodie, asleep.
She looked up slowly.
"You dreamed this?"
Reader nodded. "It's not real. But I think I want it to be."
Alysha stood, carefully setting the canvas down.
She walked toward Reader.
"I'm not Ally," she said again, softly.
"I know," Reader whispered. "But I'm not in love with Ally anymore."
A beat.
"I'm in love with you, Alysha."
Silence.
Then Alysha smiled.
"I was waiting for you to say that."
And then finally they kissed.
---
Reader didn't sleep that night.
Not because of nerves, not because of fear.
But because Alysha fell asleep in her arms, and Reader couldn't stop smiling.
She stared out at the skyline, the moon washing light over the floor, and thought:
I'll paint this next.
---
The competition ended.
Motiv placed third an incredible feat. Alysha's crew took the 2nd place.
But Reader didn't remember the trophies.
She remembered how Alysha kissed her behind the stage.
She remembered how, after everything, they flew home together.
Reader hung all the paintings in her new apartment. Every version of Alysha. Every glimpse of her changing.
And right in the center?
One painting of Ally.
Not out of grief.
But out of love.
The first love that taught her how to feel.
And the second that taught her how to begin again.
Alysha passed by one morning, coffee in hand, sleepy and radiant in one of Reader's paint-splattered hoodies.
She looked at the wall and whispered, "Wow... so many versions of me."
Reader stepped up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.
"No," she said with a smile. "Just *you*, every time."
And they stood there in the quiet, in the soft morning light, surrounded by love in every brushstroke.
Alysha. Alive. Hers.
---(extra)
Alysha's POV
I didn't notice her at first.
Reader was quiet. One of those dancers who didn't fill the room with noise or charm. She slipped into spaces like ink soaking into paper quiet, permanent. And when she danced, it was like watching a whisper become a storm.
I thought she didn't notice me either.
Until I caught her staring during warm-ups.
Not in a weird way. Not creepy. Just... focused. Like she was trying to memorize something.
It didn't make sense at first. But something about the way she looked at me soft, cautious, almost sad stuck with me.
People look at dancers all the time. It's part of the job.
But no one had ever looked at me like 'that' before.
Like I was someone they used to know.
Like I reminded them of something they weren't ready to let go of.
---
We started talking little by little.
Short comments between rehearsals. A nod. A smile. A shared water bottle once.
It took me two weeks to realize I was looking forward to seeing her more than dancing.
I didn't know she painted. Not until the exhibition during the third week. I was just wandering the studio hallway, looking at the art some of the contestants had submitted, when I saw it.
A girl on a rooftop. Head tilted back. Laughing.
I stopped walking.
It was... me.
I mean not exactly. The face wasn't 100% identical. But the posture, the feeling, the shape of the mouth, the way her hand curled it was me in movement. Me in feeling. Me when I forgot the cameras were watching.
And Reader had painted it.
I felt like I'd walked into someone's memory I didn't belong to.
I don't know what possessed me to go up to her afterward. I just had to say something.
She looked stunned when I said I recognized it.
And when she said I reminded her of someone she used to know someone she loved I felt this strange ache in my chest.
Not jealousy.
Just... something tender.
I wanted to be careful.
I wanted her to know ' I'm not trying to replace anyone'. But I also didn't want to step away.
Because I was already falling for her.
---
Reader was unlike anyone I'd ever met.
She got shy when complimented.
She flinched when she laughed too hard and people noticed.
But when she painted or danced, she was brave. She was electric.
And every time she looked at me, it was with that same awe that softness that made my skin hum.
I never asked who the girl was.
But I felt her presence.
In the pauses between our conversations.
In the long glances Reader gave me when I smiled a certain way.
I saw the ghost in her gallery before she ever invited me in.
But I waited.
And when she finally let me in?
When she showed me all the paintings 'me', in motion, in stillness, imagined in her clothes, asleep on her couch-
I almost cried.
Not because I was flattered.
But because I knew exactly what it meant.
Reader hadn't just painted me.
She had learned to 'love me'.
Not as a memory.
But as Alysha.
And I knew, right then, looking at her standing there with paint smudged on her shirt and hope trembling in her eyes-
I was in love too.
---
I don't know what will happen five, ten, twenty years from now.
But I know this:
I want to wake up beside the girl who paints dreams.
I want to be her muse.
Her present.
Her future.
Not someone she used to know.
But someone she chooses, every single day.
Even when we're old and covered in paint and our knees can't dance anymore.
She'll still look at me like that.
And I'll still kiss her like I'm in a painting too.
