I stand in the entryway holding the handle of my one piece of luggage. The space feels as cold as it always does, but I wonder if that’s the reality or if it’s just because it feels so unwelcoming.

My mom wouldn’t let me bring anything with me. Not that I have much to begin with. She said I would be living and breathing dance, so all I really needed were clothes for that. She packed everything for me and tsked disapprovingly when I tried to add items. I was hoping to sneak a few books in, but to her that wasn’t a necessity.

The one thing I did love about dancing was that I had pretty dresses and shoes for some of the parties I was required to go to. I loved them. I didn’t love the events, because most of the time my mom made me stay by her side while she showed me off, but I loved having the dresses after.

Sometimes late at night I would put one on and wear it around my room all alone after I knew she was asleep. Sometimes I even pretended I was a princess waiting for my prince to come save me. It’s silly and childish, but I couldn’t stop myself from having some kind of fantasy about a life away from here.

I turn when I hear footsteps and see my mom standing there. I think I’ll miss the dresses more than her. That thought saddens me. It shouldn’t, but it does. I know my mother is mean, but on some level I think she has to love me. Maybe even miss me a little? Or maybe that’s just another one of my childish thoughts, and wishful thinking. There is a cold distance that has grown between us the older I have gotten, and sometimes I wonder if it’s because every year that I age is one less year I’m able to dance. And that’s the only thing keeping us together.

“Pull that hair up,” she says with an annoyed sigh.

Doing as she says, I reach for the hair tie on my wrist, pulling my hair up into a ponytail. I don’t know why she doesn’t like my hair. She even made a request to the production company that my hair be pulled up in the last show, but they refused, and Mom didn’t fight them. She never fights them. She’ll put on the fake smile and agree they are right.

When I hear the buzzer, I know my ride is here to take me to the airport. Disappointment hits me that my own mom can’t even be bothered to take me herself. I won’t see her for over a year. I don’t know why I still long for her attention, her kindness and care. I should know by now she’s not going to give it to me. Yet I still I take a step toward her to give her a hug goodbye.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Her hard words stop me in my tracks. “I want to see some improvement when you return, and get rid of that childish attitude. Grow up, Aurora.”

“Grow up?” My voice is almost a shriek, and I can hear my own pain.

I feel like I’ve been a grown-up my entire life. I was never allowed to do what the other kids did in school. I missed everything. School dances, football games, boyfriends, everything other than dance. I was always practicing, never getting to do anything else. Most of the time I feel old beyond my years.

“Yes! Grow up!” she snaps. “I have to keep a lock on the refrigerator because you have no self-control. No discipline.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know where I went wrong with you.”

I drop my head, looking down at my simple white flats.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to go? With my luck they’ll change their minds.”

At her words I pick up my bag and turn, keeping my head down. Shame coats my cheeks as I fight the tears that want to break free. I pull open the heavy iron front door and walk out, not looking back at her. I’m sure she’s already gone, but seeing it would just be the final blow.

I walk out, then pause when I finally look up and see a black limo sitting in our circle driveway. A woman stands next to the open door, waiting for me to get in. I’m surprised they sent a limo for me. A feeling of excitement sparks within me, and I push away some of the lingering sadness. She’s on older woman, and I can see the gray hair around her face where it’s pulled back into a braid. She gives me a big sweet smile, and her whole face lights up at the sight of me. I like her immediately.

“Miss Adams,” she greets me, taking the bag from my hand and placing it into the trunk. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

Maybe the place I’m going will be better than I imagined. At this point it already is, and I’ve only met the person taking me to the airport.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say,” I tell her as I slip in the back.

It’s still dark outside, and the interior of the limo is even darker. The woman closes my door, and my eyes adjust after a second.

A scream bubbles up in my throat, and I jump when I see a man in a suit sitting on the bench seat beside me. My hand flies to my chest, and I can feel my heartbeat trying to break through.

“Sorry, you scared me,” I say, still holding my hand to my chest and trying to shake off the fright.

He stares at me.

His dark hair and suit help him blend into the shadows of the car, and that’s probably why I didn’t see him at first. I glance up at his eyes, and they are just as dark as the rest of him. Everything about him is dark. Black stubble lines his jaw, and thick hair falls around his face. Sitting beside him, I can tell he’s easily twice my size, and all of him creates a presence unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

The locks in the limo click, creating an ominous atmosphere.

“I’m Aurora,” I say, trying to break the tension, but he doesn’t respond. He keeps staring at me, so I nervously push on. “But you probably already know that.” I let out a shaky giggle.

He reaches out his hand, and I freeze, unsure what he’s doing. I feel the limo pull away, and I have a moment of panic. Certainly, the limo driver must know this man is back here. He must be back here for a reason. He grips my ponytail softly, taking the hair tie out and letting it fall down around me.

He runs his fingers through the long locks, and for a second I almost lean into the touch, so unused to physical contact that I’m desperate for it. Even from a stranger. Midway through my last production, they changed a few of my dances so the male lead Sam was no longer touching me. No one has touched me in so long. My eyes fall closed as I enjoy the feeling. I moan, enjoying it.

His hand disappears, and I realize what just happened. I just moaned out loud. I look over at him and feel my cheeks burn. I wish I could see his face better, but the limo is too dark. Maybe he’s some kind of bodyguard or something. He’s big enough. But why would he pull my hair down?

The stranger leans forward and opens up the compartment next to me. Inside, I see drinks. A bottle of Coke, a chocolate milk, and some smoothie-looking thing with whipped cream on it. My mouth waters. Oh God. I’ve never had any of these before in my life. I stare at them, not sure which to pick. How silly is that? I start to reach for the Coke but change my mind and go for the chocolate milk. But then I stop myself again.

I look over at the mystery man, who’s still just watching me. Maybe he can’t talk.

“Can I have more than one?” I ask as I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling stupid. Maybe my mom is right and I don’t have any self-control.

Finally his face changes, and he smirks, showing off his perfect white teeth and a dimple. He nods at me. I grab the chocolate milk and lock my lips around the straw, sucking it down. I moan at the taste. I didn’t know something could taste so good. I look to the man, feeling embarrassed once again. I’m making moaning sounds over a drink, and I notice his expression has turned predatory. I stop drinking and scoot back in my seat a little. I don’t think I’ve ever been alone with a man before. Something in the air has changed. I can feel it running over my skin, and the instincts I should have had the moment I got into the car finally seem to wake up.

“Who are you?” For some reason the words are hard to get past my lips. They feel heavy, and I don’t sound like myself.

He leans close to me, but I can’t seem to focus anymore. I try to shift away, but my body isn’t listening. My limbs are heavy, and now I can’t make them move. He takes the drink from my hand, putting it back next to the others.

He smiles softly this time as he leans against his seat and takes my hand in his. I look down as his big palm engulfs my dainty fingers.

“Soon, little star, all will be explained,” I hear him say as my eyes fall closed.