The Player

Chapter 29

Brielle

7:32 PM

To say that I was freaking out was an understatement.

After my encounter with Christopher on the stage, I promptly ran to one of the dressing rooms and 911

texted Sam to haul herself over here. I knew that Christopher probably thought I was crazy with how I

exited, but I couldn't kiss him.

No matter how hard he tried, I couldn't bring myself to forgive him. I was a strong believer in second

chances, but for some strange reason, I just couldn't bring myself to extend that same privilege to him.

I felt the anger I had for him dissipate while performing, and that may have scared me the most. If I was

no longer mad at him, then how was I supposed to keep myself from forgiving him?

I shook the thought out of my mind. He was using me, and that is that.

"I stopped watching The Bachelor finale for this!" Sam said haughtily, stalking in. "So, this better be an

emergency." She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer.

"Christopher's here." I said simply.

Her hands instantly dropped, and her face softened. If Sam was no longer mad at me for making her

miss her favorite show, then I knew that my problem was bad.

"What happened?" she asked, sitting beside me on the tufted couch.

I let out a huff. I didn't even know.

"We leant in for the kiss and I couldn't do it."

Her head tilted slightly to the side. "Why? It's just for the dance."

I threw my hands up in frustration. "I don't know Sam! Throughout the dance I felt myself forgive him

more and more, and I knew that if I kissed him I would take him back."

Sam paused, chewing on her lip, before finally whispering softly, "What would be so wrong if you did?"

My eyes grew wide. "Sam, how could you say that!"

"Just hear me out," she said, raising her hands defensively. "He seems like he's really sorry." As much

as I wanted to cut her off, I let her continue.

"I've never seen you happier than when you were with him. You were just like you were before you

started dating Derrick."

My jaw dropped. What was she talking about. She continued, sensing my shock.

"You didn't think that I noticed, but after you two broke up, something changed in you. You were closed

off, almost like you were constantly afraid of something, so you never let anyone in."

"I just didn't want to get hurt again." I said softly.

She nodded her head. "I know. But in the process, you never allowed yourself to feel loved by so many

amazing people. The only people that you talked to were me and Scott."

In a way, she was right. Looking back, I hadn't realized that to protect myself, I stopped myself from ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

meeting new people. I stopped trying to make new friends. After having Derrick betray me, I figured

that the less people that you trust, the less people that can cause you harm.

"But then Christopher came along, and before I knew it you were going to parties and breaking into

football fields." She clutched me by the shoulders, forcing me to stare into her serious eyes.

"You were living your life again Brielle, and it was because of him. He opened you up again."

I scoffed. "Well, it turns out I was right in the first place. The first person knew that I let into my life

broke me again." Some may say that my way of protecting myself was unhealthy, but no one could

argue that it wasn't foolproof.

She let out a soft sigh. "But don't you think, just maybe, that it was worth it?"

I paused. I had never thought of it like that.

I knew that Christopher had caused me so much pain, but did the moments of happiness that we

shared make up for that? When I looked back on us, would I have rather gone through both the

happiness and the hurt, or never gone through it at all?

"Look, I'm not saying that you should take him back, that's your decision alone. I just think that you

should hear him out, and then decide if you can truly find it in yourself to forgive him, instead of already

deciding that you won't." A soft smile lay on her lips.

"I talked to him, and he truly is a good guy."

Now my brain was completely scrambled. If Sam thought that I should get back with him, then I had

absolutely no clue what to do. I rubbed my temples, trying to prevent my oncoming headache.

Sam looked down at her phone before hopping off the couch. "I have to go if I'm going to get a good

seat." She pulled me into a tight hug, nearly squeezing all of the air out of my lungs.

"You're going to do great today! Joffrey is going to be lucky to have you."

I felt myself tearing up. No matter what happened, Sam was always there. "I don't know what I would

do without you."

Sam coughed out a laugh, her eyes growing watery. "You'd make terrible life decisions and I'd probably

be living on the street," smiles stretched upon our faces. "We need each other."

I nodded my head. That was one thing that I knew for sure.

I laughed, wiping at my tears. "How come you never have any problems to tell me?"

She playfully rolled her eyes. "I have enough drama in my life from you alone."

When she left, I felt the familiar pre-performance jitters enter my body. The time was growing closer to

my performance and I felt the urge to vomit from my nerves. I took a deep breath, knowing exactly what

would calm me down.

I made my way to the wings of the stage and peeked into the audience from behind the curtain. My

heart leapt when I saw the chair reserved for the Joffrey Scout occupied by a middle-aged brunette

woman. Her face was stern and serious, and I felt my heart began to beat quickly. No doubt, she would

be hard to please.

I averted my gaze to my intended purpose, the first row. My family always arrived early to sit front and

center. It was a ritual for me to wave to them before performing. Every time I did, I always felt better.

Scott caught me peeking and waved his hand at me, a smile stretching across his face. I did the same,

and instantly felt myself calm down.

I could do this.

As I was about to close the curtain, a movement behind Scott's head caught my attention.

An unknown hand was waving at me.

The culprit wore a black jacket, the shadow of the hood hiding the features of his face. When he took

the hood off, I nearly choked from surprise.

Waving at me from behind Scott's unknowing head, was Derrick.

His face was badly bruised, and there was no doubt in my mind that Christopher had won their fight. I

felt my lungs contract as the room began to grow smaller and smaller.

This couldn't be happening.

Scott's expression morphed into one of confusion as he watched my face fall, my once happy face now

horror-stricken. He followed my gaze behind him and turned around to come face to face with Derrick. I

saw his body visibly tense, but before I could see what happened next, I felt my body tearing itself

away from the curtain and towards the dressing room on its own accord.

I seemed to be moving in a daze as I was unaware of what was happening around me. Faces that I

once knew blurred as I struggled to breathe.

My hands grew numb. My legs trembled beneath me. I was heavy and light all at once.

I was surrounded by shapes, moving, but unrecognizable, their true appearance on the tip of my

tongue but not yet there.

I was numb.

Suddenly, a pair of powerful arms swooped up beneath me, pulling me towards a warm, hard chest.

I didn't know who it was, but I leaned into them, accepting the comfort. They sat on the cold floor and

placed me on their lap. Their fingers softly stroked my hair.

Even though I hadn't seen their face, I already knew who it was.

"Don't cry, I've got you." Christopher whispered, deftly wiping at my tears. "Just tell me what

happened."

I tried to say something, but I couldn't. The words were trapped in my throat, and no matter how hard I

tried, I couldn't spit them out. After what felt like eternity, I finally muttered, "Derrick's here."

I felt his body instantly tense up beneath me.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, moving to pick me up and set me down on a chair. The thought of him

leaving set an irrational sense of panic within me.

"No!" I cried, gripping at his shirt with my fist and pulling them towards me. "Please don't go."

After a pause, I felt him nod as I leaned onto him once more. His presence alone was enough to cause

my heart rate and breathing to go back to normal.

After finally regaining my usual function, I couldn't help but be taken aback. I hadn't had a panic attack

in years.

I opened my eyes, lifting my head from the damp spot on his shirt from my tears. I hadn't even realized

I'd been crying.

"I'm sorry," I said, coming face to face with Christopher.

"Don't be," he said, flashing me a smile. "I'll always be here for you when you need me."

A soft smile fell on my face. "I know."

I wiped at my eyes, trying to make myself look more presentable. "How long have we been here?"

"Thirty minutes," he said simply. My eyes grew. "How long do we have until we perform?"

He spoke slowly, knowing that I would freak out. "Five minutes."

I felt myself begin to panic. Then I remembered who was in the audience. "And what about Derrick?"

"He was kicked out, Scott came back here to tell me."

I didn't know whether I was more relieved that Derrick was gone, or surprised that Christopher and

Scott were able to have a civilized conversation.

"Don't worry," he said, sitting up from the floor and offering me his hand. I grabbed it and stood up,

coming face to face with the man who singlehandedly put my heart together and broke it.

As we made our way to the stage, I knew deep down that Sam was right. Christopher was a good guy,

and he was always there for me. He brought out the best version of myself, the me that I was proud to

be.

"Why'd you do it?" I blurted out randomly, seeming to even surprise myself. "Why did you want to hurt

me?"

His eyes softened. "Brielle, I never wanted to hurt you."

I rolled my eyes. "Yea right."

He ran his hands through his hair. "I guess I did, but only at first. I just-" He was cut off as a Ms. Riley

brushed past us.

"You guys are on next!" she called, scurrying to another place backstage. We nodded our heads before

I turned my attention back to him.

"As I was saying, I only wanted to at first, I swear. That was before I knew you."

I couldn't help but be skeptical. "When did you decide not to?"

He answered without a moment's hesitation.

"I already felt that I wasn't going to, but when I saw you keep trying to surf after failing all of those

times, and never giving up until you caught that wave," we both smiled at the memory. Looking back

that was probably the smallest wave on Earth, but we celebrated like it was the biggest.

"When I saw how happy you were, I knew that the feelings I had for you weren't fake, and I could never

use you like that."

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn't bring myself to. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Before he could answer, the performance before us ended. They pranced towards the wings and

exited, signaling us to take our place on stage. I felt my heart in my throat. This performance

determined everything.

As practiced, we walked to the center of the stage and sat down, his arms wrapped around me. The

lights faded to a dim pink as only our silhouettes were visible to the audience. As the music began,

however, something that we didn't practice occurred.

Christopher began talking.

"I was afraid that if I told you the truth, you would leave me," he said softly, lifting me up as

choreographed. I held my leg by my ear before slowly lowering it down.

"What are you doing?" I whispered harshly, launching myself into a perfectly executed spin. He

grabbed me by my hips, raising me as I did so.

"Don't worry, the music is too loud for them to hear us and the lights are too dim to see."

Before I could protest, I spun away from him, leaping into a split jump high in the air, my legs perfectly

straight. Somehow, either despite or because of his talking, I was dancing better than I ever had.

When I finally returned to him, jumping into his arms, he continued talking.

"When I met you, I was stupid and immature and somehow thought that getting back at your brother

would help fix my problems." He smoothly raised me into our lift, holding me with ease. I bowed my

back, causing my body to form a beautiful arch.

"But then I got to know you, and I realized how funny, smart, and talented you are." He lowered me

back to the ground.

"I realized that getting back at your brother wouldn't fix my problems, because you already did."

As much as I wanted to tell him to stop talking so we could focus on dancing, part of me wanted to hear

what he had to say. The timing was bad, but somehow, I felt like it couldn't wait. And for some reason, I

seemed to be dancing better.

"You challenged me, and helped me realize that I could be more than just an arrogant football player."

He placed his hand on the small of my back, dipping me towards the ground.

"You are strong and amazing, and I was lucky to have you. But I screwed it up, and I know that," He

swooped me back up, and I extended my leg straight into the air in the process.

"But I need you to know that even if you decide that you never want to see me again, I will always care

for you and be there when you need me," He turned me around, our foreheads touching as our dance

came to a close, the ending notes of our song playing.

"Because I love you Brielle."

My breath hitched in my chest at his words.

And in that moment, I knew the answer to the question that I had been struggling with for so long. I

would rather have known Christopher, and all the hurt that came with him, than to never have known

him at all.

We had changed each other in ways that neither of us expected, and I knew, looking into his eyes, that

the Christopher I saw now was not the Christopher that walked into the dance room months ago.

I knew that because I wasn't the Brielle I was months ago either.

This whole time, I was afraid that Christopher had changed, and for the worst, but that couldn't be

farther from the truth.

Yes, he had changed, but it wasn't for the worst. It was for the better.

And looking into his eyes now, I knew.

I knew that despite what happened, nothing mattered but how we felt about each other in this moment.

"I love you, too," I whispered.

And with that, I did the easy thing that I found so hard to do an hour prior.

I did what finally melted all my anger towards him. What finally allowed me to forgive him, his past and

all, and take him back.

I kissed him.

And it wasn't the roar of the audience, or the good news from the Joffrey scout after the show, that let

me know that I made the right choice.

It was this, me and Christopher laying under the stars a year later, our hands intertwined and a smile

on each of our faces, that let me know.

Despite all our problems, despite all our highs and lows, the best thing that ever happened to me, my

own personal miracle:

Was when I danced with the player.