tuggoffelees oneshots

chapter one hundred: ballet part two (finally)

misto pov
     i sit in my dressing room, staring at my already-costumed self in the mirror.

     tonight is the night.

     i can do this.

     i have to.

i glance at my phone on the desk. i have 34 minutes until i need to be on stage. i'm early, as always.

but with him in the audience, there isn't room for any kind of mistake.

i cant. i cant do it. i'm going to mess up. i know it. and then he'll think i'm a fraud or that i was lying about being able to do this.

i can't do it.

i hastily grab my phone and open the messages app. i tap on tugger's name and write "i'm so sorry, i just cant"

and he responds nearly instantly.

"can't what? are you okay? what's wrong?"

i feel like i'm going to cry, my throat hurts.

"the show, i can't do it. i'm going to fall or something" i respond.

"what's your dressing room number thing"

"4, why?"

"brb"

"why did you ask??"

and then he stops replying.

great. he knows that i'm a liar and is trying to get me to think he's coming to rescue me.

i can't stop myself from crying now. i refuse to look back at the mirror though, at my stupid face.

i'm a failure.

a fraud.

i suddenly hear footsteps and i wipe my sleeve over my eyes, blinking a few times afterward.

the door opens and i look up and his warm, familiar eyes seem to see directly through every defence i've ever put up. it's like he can read my mind just by looking at me.

or y'know, by the fact that i was obviously crying.

tugger closes the door behind him. "are you oka-"

"you're not supposed to be here," i snap, regretting it immediately.

he obviously wasn't insulted, as he opens his arms and waits for me to come to him.

i sigh and stand up and walk right into him.

i don't put my head on him though, because i don't want to ruin his shirt with my tears.

he notices, obviously it's kind of hard not to, and whispers "it's okay, put your head down sweetheart. it's okay if i call you that, right?"

i nod. "i don't wanna ruin your clothes though," i say in a small voice, cursing myself afterwards. why do i always have to be so... weak?

"i promise i won't be mad if you do," he says, pulling the rest of me closer to him.

i silently thank him for being the nicest person i've ever met, and set my head down so my temple rests on his collarbone.

we stand there for what feels like... i don't know, 25 minutes? but was probably only like 30 seconds.

tugger pulls away a little and says gently "can you look at me?"

i do as he asks, finally letting myself be vulnerable. it feels weird at first.

"i promise you, that you will do just fine."

"but what if-"

he shushes me like he would a child.

i resist the urge to pout, as that would only make it worse.

"listen to me," tugger says, doing the same thing with his eyes as before, staring into my very soul. "i want you to go onto the stage, and don't take your eyes off of me the whole time, okay?"

i break eye contact and relax a little.

"just like the other day at school. pretend like it's that day again, and you'll do fine."

something within me flutters. he's right, that is a commonly used tactic for performers, to pick one person and perform for them only.

"take a breath for me, okay?" he says softly.

again, i do as i'm told, and i let the breath resonate.

i'm okay.

just then, we hear a voice over the p.a system. "ladies and gentlemen, this is your ten minute call. your ten minute call."

     i start to panic again.

     tugger grabs my forearms and looks me in the eyes. "i have to go now, but just don't take your eyes off of me, okay? you're going to be fine, i promise."

    i helplessly whimper at him.

   "no matter what happens, i will always be proud of you."

     and then he lets go of me, stands up, and leaves without another word.

heheh i might make a part three, i might not, who knows

hi also my birthday is on the 3rd of february so. hehe happy birthday to me in two days