Heyhey.

So I've had this story floating around on my computer for quite a few months already, and I thought I'd post it. The thing is, I'm very busy with Equilibrium: Alicia's Book right now and I don't plan on starting anything else. If you're interested, you can PM me or review if you want to collab or just take this and continue it yourself. BTW, the story line is based on Step Up 3, from Dylan's point of view, if she were in the movie.

Dylan Marvil had always hated her last name.

There was something incredibly arrogant and conceited about it, or maybe it was just the way that her mother pronounced it every morning on her talk show.

"Hello, it's great to have you here today. I am Merri-Lee Marvil, and you're watching the Daily Grind."

Cue dazzling smile and upturned nose. Red curls tossed lightly, a condescending glance over her shoulder.

Dylan scoffed quietly to herself.

There was a loud knock on the door, and Jaime poked her head in, eyeing her younger sister with distate.

"Dyl, how many times must I tell you," she sighed dramatically, "you have to work hard to keep up your appearance. Your hair could look so much better, if you actually combed it, or got Paolo to help you. And what exactly are you wearing?"

She pushed open the door and shifted to pose on one hip, staring down imperiously at her little sister.

"Jaime, when I want a lecture, I'll ask for one. Leave me alone." Dylan pointed at the door, giving her sister a hard nudge in her stilettos so that she nearly fell over.

"Fine," sneered Jaime, throwing her a smirk over one shoulder, a move that she'd jacked off mom, "don't come running to me if no boy wants you when you're in those ratty sweats."

She pranced out the door and slammed it as hard as she could. Dylan sighed in relief, then flopped onto her bed.

Moments later, Merri-Lee herself rushed into the room, trailed by a short, blonde personal assistant in heels. Dylan couldn't imagine a job more hellish than running around all day in killer heels and skimpy skirts, being bossed around by one of the most undoubtedly devilish women in the whole of history.

"Dylan, my sweet. We need to have a little talk."

Merri-Lee was never more gracious than when she was livid. She crossed the room, her heels click-clacking against the polished hardwood and her curls bouncing.

"Honey, your principal called. It seems you have not been keeping up to date with your school work, is that correct? There was even an occasion, I think, when you saw fit to skive school."

"Yeah, whatever, mom." She slouched back against the wall, keeping her eyes averted.

"Young lady, do not use that tone of voice with me. I will not accept this behavior while you are in my house, and I am certainly not tolerating your dress code. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal." She muttered reluctantly.

"Perfect." She turned and breezed out of the room in a cloud of designer perfume, followed by the unhappy-looking assistant.

Dylan looked around the room, then slipped on a pair of hi-tops and grabbed her IPod, then made her way to the dance studio.

The thumping beat echoing through the empty studio made Dylan feel alive and free. She stretched in time to the music, letting the strong beat drown out the worries in her mind.

Step it up step it up step it up step it up

Break the knob off right now

Crumpin' or stuntin' do what ya wanna

Imma crank the party up right now

She held her position for a fraction of a second longer, feeling the burn in her muscle replace the ache and tension. Because her mother had grown more persistent and unreasonable lately, Dylan hadn't been in to practice as often as she would have liked to.

She took a deep breath, staring herself down in the mirrored walls, then rolled back onto her back and executed a perfect backflip. It was good to know that she hadn't completely lost her touch.

Dylan straightened up again and flipped quickly onto a handstand. Halfway up, she felt her palms slipping, and she quickly let her feet back down again. She landed hard on the floor, gasping and sweating, then gritted her teeth and walked over to one of the mirrors and tried again. Better this time.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi…

She felt her arms giving in, and flicked her legs back over, landing softly on both feet. The low beat thudded, shifting into a different song, but Dylan wasn't finished yet. She stood still for a second, hovering over the floor, then kicked off with her right foot, landing on her stacked palms, the smooth leather of the glove gliding circles on the floor as she spun around once, twice, thrice…

…and then she tumbled head over heels onto the floor, landing uncomfortably in the splits.

Dylan muttered something unintelligible, smacking her fist into the floor in frustration. She brushed a wisp of crimson hair back angrily, flexing her toes.

She swung her arms and feet out together, rocking to the music, letting it carry her movements. Dylan did a few lazy step-claps to the beat, then swung her fist out, imitating a fighter, finally jumping onto both feet and landing in a crouched position. Then she spread her legs apart, placing her hands out sideways in front of her. Her right leg swung in a full circle to the first beat of the music, passing cleanly under her left leg, which she had kicked up. She let her momentum carry her, swinging around for four more circles before dropping to her feet.

"Miss? Miss?"

The tentative knocking on the door jolted Dylan back to reality. She flicked the music off and wrenched the door open in Carla's face.

"Miss Dylan, your mother would like to remind you that the Marvil charity ball will start in two hours. She would like you to please change."

The maid backed off a little after watching her fierce expression.

"I can clean here, no? You will be other places?"

"Whatever." Muttered Dylan, snatching the IPod off the speakers and exiting swiftly.

On her way down the hall, Dylan bumped into her mother.

"I take it you will be changing for the ball now, correct?"

"Hell yeah I will." Grinned Dylan, her eyes flashing mischeviously.

So, what do you think?