𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞 [COMPLETE]

𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟎𝟎𝟔 { Ticket Stealer }

"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎."
~~~

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Pacing back and forth in my room unbraiding my hair in the process, I wonder if going to this counseling group was a good idea. What was I thinking ?

I didn't need this getting out. Like at all. I could already sense the reactions I would get. Reactions that would only make me doubt my decision.

Stopping at the mirror hanging on my wall, my eyes slowly rack my figure. My thighs were a little too big for my liking and my stomach looked bloated 24/7.

My chest was a curse disguised as a blessing to most girls.

Why big breasts were favored by society. I had no idea. My double D's were practically spilling out of my tank top, which is why they were my biggest insecurity.

Last night I texted dad that I decided to sign up for the counseling group at the Intellectual Community Center for Youth. He was beyond thrilled to say the least. Going on and on about how I'll be back to normal in no time. Normal. I forgot what that felt like.

But what if I wasn't

We talked about Niko's new accomplishments and dad even brought up getting a dog to keep him company while I was away. I was already jealous of the little guy. He then updated me on a new lawyer he was in contact with. Apparently he was one of the best in New Jersey and they were going to meet in a couple of days to discuss my contract.

A sense of relief washed over me. I've been waiting for this thought in the back of my mind to come alive for some months now and it was finally happening.

Today, Vic and I decided to finally register for classes. We were so last minute and I'm afraid we just handed ourselves an endless supply of 8 am classes.

"Your major is dance? What happened to art ?"

"My parents freaking happened. They refused to believe I'm talented at anything but ballet. She takes her hand through her hair in frustration while leaving them there to hold her head up.

I grew up with Vic for most of my life and I knew this was breaking her. I could tell when she came back from France her passion for the arts intensified.

During breakfast she would go on about the museums, art schools and endless opportunities they had to offer there. It almost sounded like she never wanted to leave.

"Listen to me. Don't let them stop you from pursuing your dream. It's your life not theirs and they can't live vicariously through you no matter how hard they try." I grab her hands so she can lift her head up. "You hear me."

By the time I ended my little rant Vic was trying not to let the tears fall free. I rarely saw her cry, which is why I was so shocked. We sit in silence for a few moments just taking in each others presence.

"I love you," she murmurs while resting her head on my shoulder. I thought I was short but Vic barely reached my shoulder.

"I love me too."

Next thing you know I was getting sacked in the head with a decorative pillow. Together we burst in a fit of laughter and somehow I end up on the floor clutching my stomach gasping for air.