Emerson Blake's not all too good at doing what he loves.
And not in a literal sense; he dances with his eyes squeezed shut and with the beauty of fall leaves being spun by God's breath.
But his mother, a retired award winning director who made stories come to life with an expensive camera and his father, a set designer with an eye for making wood planks into moving pieces of art, were actively against their son spending his afternoon in a dance studio.
Even when they finally budged; allowing him to dance at a close family friend's studio; Quinn's Home of Dance, they were adamant about their initial reasoning.
Something about losing his youth, something about losing himself. Something about burning out, something about cherishing normality; Emerson had stopped listening when they tried to explain to him his dream would leave him unhappy.
They hadn't been unhappy, had they?
Now Emerson didn't hate his parents, he loved them with every bone in his body. They were his inspiration.
It's why Emerson did so well in school; despite hating the traditional American public school system. Why he joined the soccer team; despite not ever wanting to spend more time with the future Ken doll rejects of Northridge Highschool.
The formative parts of Emerson's teenage angst could be attributed to his misery at Northridge. Even though he still giggled at kittens on TheSlap.com and shared secret smiles with himself every-time he completed a set of turns in the dance studio; He was sick of living a life spent being picked apart piece by piece in order to fit someone else's puzzle.
Maybe that's why he applied to Hollywood Arts without their permission.
Imagine their shock when he gets in.
And then double it when they find out he's been recording demos in a tiny studio he set up in his walk-in closet, and posting them anonymously on The Slap. (Even though that's a secret for an entirely new day...)
IN WHICH EMERSON BLAKE FINDS HIMSELF IN THE SPOTLIGHT, IN LOVE, IN TROUBLE, AND IN A SCHOOL FOR THE MOST TALENTED KIDS IN LOS ANGELES.
WHERE THE FUCK ARE SIKOWITZ'S SHOES?
S T A R R I N G . . .
EMERSON BLAKE. kim taehyung.
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#EMERSON: i feel like my only talents are dancing and losing my glasses.
BRIAR QUINN. zendaya.
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#BRIAR: the student body of hollywood arts are why i hate indie kids.
F E A T U R I N G . . .
LAURA BLAKE lee mi-sook.
JAE BLAKE. kwon sang woo.
BIANCA QUINN. kerry washington.
ACE DAMON. chosen jacobs.
EZRA FORD. corey fogelmanis.
nya's notes. who the fuck am i writing a VICTORIOUS fic in the year 20 fucking 20? i guess i want all of my work to flop harder than me trying to ollie in my driveway. this came about because i watched all of victorious when it dropped on netflix and i immediately wanted to write a fic, but i left it alone for a bit but i binged it again now i'm like ... committed or whatever. also... i know zendaya is overused, i KNOW, but i love her. another thing; this is set in 2020 because i took one look at the outfits from the pilot episode of victorious and decided emerson and briar deserved better; next! this is hella slowburn, and tori might barely be in it idk i really don't like tori...
warnings. some inappropriate jokes maybe? a lot of angst? swearing? some homophobia? some racism? some underage drinking? all of the fun parts of high school.
started. dec 30th, 2019. published. august 17th, 2020. ended. we'll see!
