A naïve idea ran through Olivia's mind as she walked up the steps to her apartment door. She believed a miraculous entry at two in the morning could happen without incident — a lecture from her brother, questioning her whereabouts and other trivial shit. It didn't matter that he was younger than her. Harrison was always going to look out for her well-being, even in the city that they took permanent residence in for over a year. He was her guardian.

Quietly turning the lock, she prepared to tiptoe to her room at the end of the hall, and go to sleep. That was the plan. But as she stepped in the apartment, she found Harrison sitting in his favorite chair, reading. Waiting.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know you'd be awake."

She watched him react incredulously — knitted eyebrows, curled upper lip — before he let out a skeptical laugh.

"Surprise, I am."

"Sorry."

"You know you could have texted me that you were coming back. We've talked about this."

Olivia let out a short sigh. "Sorry, ok? I just…lost track of time."

By the look on his face, Harrison was ready to tell her off because this was a trend he didn't appreciate. Just because they lived in the city that never slept, didn't mean she had to be out at all hours. "Liv. I can't keep staying up late worrying about you. Wait—You seem upbeat. What's up with you?"

Trying to stay out of her "light", Olivia shrugged, "Nothing." She cringed, already knowing the rare octave change in her voice was a dead giveaway. Hiding information from her brother was almost always a lost cause.

"I bet," he replied. Leaning forward, he rubbed his chin and asked, "With Fitz?"

She rolled her eyes, turning away to place the keys on the wall fixture. "Yeah. I was."

"That's good. You have a little glow about you. I kinda like it."

It was always weird to hear her brother speak on her appearance after being with a guy. Like it was a bad thing that she wasn't frowning at the end of the day. "And?"

Harrison smiled, ignoring her defensive stance. "It's nice to see this side of you. It's a different kind of glow from when you dance your heart out. I always want you to be happy, sis. You can deserve to have a life outside of dance, ya know."

"I think was wrong about him," she quietly recognized. Again, hesitant to get a sassy remark or a "I told you so."

"Oh, yeah?"

Olivia suppressed the growing smile that was fighting to cross her lips. "Yeah. He's not as bad as I thought."

Harrison used his finger to swipe the page on his tablet, nodding confidently. "Told ya. I hope this jovial outlook stays after tomorrow. Well, once you jump off of your cloud, I need to tell you something."

Sprinting to her room, Olivia dropped the bag to the floor. Her mind was still back at Fitz's apartment as she changed into pajamas. As she stripped, she had to stop to get a whiff of her clothes. They smelled like him. It should have been a no-brainer to take a shower at that moment, but she didn't want to wash off his scent just yet. Weird as it was, this masculine aroma had her smiling from ear to ear, and reminding her to make a note to find the name of the cologne or whatever body spray he used.

"So, what's going on," she asked, returning to the living room. Harrison was in the middle of tidying up his corner.

"Got a call from the stage manager."

To receive a call so soon didn't seem right. Olivia was expecting to hear back in the morning and even then, the anticipation was nerve-wracking.

"And?

Harrison slowly cracked a smile. "You got a callback."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Instead of breaking into a dance party or rushing to her brother in celebration, Olivia frowned.

"What?"

"You could have told me as soon as I got in the door. Or, I don't know, texted me! When did you find out?"

Returning her sass, Harrison countered, "A few hours ago." He could have given her hell for anything else. But a callback to the most important gig in her mind? With no warning? Not cool.

"You could have called. You should have called."

"You didn't text me when I asked when you were coming home."

Olivia crossed her arms. "Fuck off."

"You first."

The harsh glare the Pope siblings gave each other was short lived. The two laughed simultaneously. Even with their verbal spats, they were a team.

Growing up in a beach town, there wasn't much to do outside of the summer months. School was a given — only straight As were allowed — but outside of class, Livvie and Harri had become extremely close in their formative years. The water was their babysitter, keeping them company when their parents were working long hours as hotel managers. All the time apart caused devastating riffs; after fifteen years, her parents divorced, the hotel was sold, and emotionally, the family was exhausted. This led Olivia to be determined to become independent, and not allow circumstances to dictate her success.

Her brother was always going to be in her plans. No matter what, she would always take care of him, overriding any creative difference.

"This is good."

"Yeah, one step closer," she replied, plopping on the couch while Harrison shut down his tablet for the night.

"Is L.A. still the goal?"

Stretching her limbs, Olivia answered, "I want it to be. New York will always be the go-to. There will always be work for someone like me. As long as I keep my shit together. But I know there's more out there. I need it. Los Angeles would be a great milestone."

"Solo?"

"Not without you. That's if you want to be there. But I don't want to hold you back."

Harrison nodded with appreciation, as he rose from his chair. "Alright, missy. Rehearsal is early tomorrow so we need to get to bed."

"True."

"Oh no," he said, "You need to get up. No sleeping on the couch."

Olivia chuckled as she rose. "When is the callback?"

"Friday. I told them you would take a spot in the afternoon, so we will need to rush from filming."

"Seriously?"

Harrison reported, "I made some calls so you can get there in time. The rehearsal needs to be finished by 4."

Olivia could always appreciate her brother's intuition, but would be taken aback by the intensity of his go-getter spirit.

"Okay."

"Don't go there, you need to multitask. You need all the exposure you can get, my sister. That's good news. We still have a chance. Don't overthink this."

"I better have a chance. I deserve to be in there, Harri. The more I do, the likelihood of me getting cast is greater."

They exclaimed together, "Resume booster!"

Her confidence skyrocketed.

"The shoot."

"Right right."

"Stephen is ecstatic."

"I know."

"And to work with LaToia Fletcher? My God, what an opportunity, Liv."

"Yeah, yeah."

Harrison replied dryly, "Your enthusiasm. It blows me away. Alright, sis. Go get some sleep."

Being the human version of an alarm clock, Harrison was up and knocking at his sister's bedroom door.

"Are you up?"

Olivia groaned, turning over to fumble for her phone, foggy-brained and thinking of the day's events. Nerves kept her from sleep, tossing and turning for five hours.

"Sis, it's 8:45. We need to be out the door in 30."

"Uggghhh..."

"Stephen texted me and he's giving you a little wiggle room, but we need to be on set by 10. Instead of taking the train, he secured a driver. Will be here soon. If you want to skim over the call times, here," Harrison placed the iPad on the bed, offering his sister the confirmation she needed. "I'll make sure you have your breakfast sandwich and coffee by the time we leave."

No-nonsense and steadfast in his delivery of instructions, he tapped on his iPad.

"You're probably thinking about your audition and him, but we gotta go and…"

"First of all, you don't know what I'm thinking about and two, we make it count," she said, finishing Harrison Wright Pope's favorite phrase, repeated whenever a situation was looked difficult. The resiliency kept them going — literally.

The car ride was quiet, minus the long slurps of coffee. Olivia was feeling groggy, but she knew she had to pull it together, and put on a good show for everyone. Her work outside of this project wasn't going to matter to this staff, so she had to bring it.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the warehouse in Brooklyn, which had been transformed into a set with cameras and overhead lights. It was good to know people, specifically Mr. Stephen Lynch. When good vibes were exchanged, he treated people well.

The driver put the car in park, and walked around to open the door. Other than being in a limo, there was no need to be assisted at a gig. This was very new, but a wonderful start to the day.

"Good morning!"

Hearing Stephen's booming voice from afar, Olivia looked around for anyone who could tell her to drop off her belongings.

"Liv, come on over! I need you to meet everyone."

And so it started. Olivia usually didn't mind being the teacher's pet. The beloved dancer. The muse. But this — dancing on film — wasn't her forte. Being looked at, was not the problem. It was the countless retakes of angles that made her self-conscious. It was a different kind of insecurity then being on display in a sports bra and jazz pants.

The concept of doing something new for the first time. Olivia loathed change that she was not sure of.

One deep breath later, she walked to Stephen and what she guessed where the other crew members. The assistant director, videographers, and LaToia, the choreographer who could be her best friend or least favorite person.

Always the show pony for the strapping director. It didn't have to be that way, but they trusted each other and Olivia felt safe. The last four theatrical and dance productions he directed, she was the lead dancer.

The group appeared to be very interested in Olivia:

"So you're the beautiful dancer we've been hearing about."

"We've seen you in rehearsals. You're amazing."

"I already know someone will want you for their next video."

Olivia "smized" the whole time, gradually transforming into the diva she knew she could be.

After the introductions, she and Harrison found their trailer. They went over the call sheet, noticing the break times and length of each rehearsal block.

It worked in her favor that she was working on solo choreography with LaToia. A brilliant smile with a undeniable charm from the South, the powerhouse of a woman was ready to teach. Olivia noticed the enthusiasm immediately.

They were able to just knock the combinations out in twenty minutes. It certainly helped Olivia get focused for the taping.

During a mini-break with the background dancer and the assistant choreographer reviewing combinations, LaToia and Olivia were able to chat for a bit.

"Is this your first video?"

"Yes. How many have you worked on?"

"Five."

"Wow."

LaToia nodded, coyly smiling, "It's a trip every single time, always something different. The concept. Your cast. How talented your dance ensemble is. How much of a budget is there so I can work my magic."

"Where are you originally from?"

"Louisiana. Did the whole studio, poms route. School dance team all four years. Even coached for two. But I knew there was more for me to do."

That sounded just like her own life's path, so she asked for wisdom, "When did you decide that it was time to move on? When did that moment occur? Did something major happen?"

"No catastrophe," LaToia smiled, tucking one of her long bangs to the side. "It felt right in here."

Olivia looked to where she was pointing to — her stomach.

"Your conscience?"

"I call it my gut. That instinct that will lead you on the path, if you listen carefully."

"What if you think you're going one way, but keep doubting yourself?"

With another reassuring grin, LaToia said, "We all have our doubts and insecurities that we don't allow ourselves to face head-on, but you have to keep moving."

The conversation seemed to encourage her, and Olivia felt good enough to continue with rehearsal. Several ball changes, grand jetés, extravagant turns and leg extensions, and souténus later, another assistant came.

"Miss Pope, we have to get you ready for makeup and wardrobe. Please follow me."

Olivia thanked LaToia for a productive rehearsal. On her way to the makeshift dressing room, she heard her name being called, so naturally, she turned around to find the voice.

There was Fitz, Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, walking with an exuberance that made Olivia smirk. His eyes were bursting with excitement.

"Hey, good morning!"

"Hi."

"Hi. How are you?"

"I'm doing alright, Fine," She replied with a blank expression. "Yourself?"

Fitz flashed a confident smile. "I'm great! Nothing like a first day, working on something new, being with good people."

"Cool."

Her answer must have been equally as frigid; Fitz began to frown, leaning in to watch her expressions.

"Are you sure you're okay," he asked in a more gentle tone, "You don't seem like yourself."

Olivia didn't know that he was paying attention so closely for a week to know how she was being "herself". "I'm fine, Fitz. Walk with me, I need to go to makeup."

"Okay..." Fitz titled his head, skeptically. "Is it about last night? I thought you had a good time."

Eying their surroundings, Olivia let out a sigh of exasperation before whispering, "There's nothing to worry about."

As Olivia got her makeup done, she began to think about her call sheet for the day. Stand by a building. Dance in the "street". Act in a scene with Fitz.

Dancing and acting at the same time? Sure, she knew how to give exaggerated face while dancing on a marley floor, with stage lights shining down on her; but with adrenaline and determination running in her veins, her vision was changed so the audience would be hidden. They'd be close but just far enough to not make her anxious.

Under a camera's eye, every detail would be seen. Having Stephen and others be nitpicky over the wrong reasons. Plus, being in an actual scene with Fitz? That did not sound like a fun day at all.

The main issue? She was still working through certain insecurities, which were normal for a dancer, but being thrust into a new situation - film - was not always ideal. Outside of Harrison, no one knew how she truly felt, but money was money, and she did want to not just be known as a session background dancer.

Wardrobe laid out a form-fitting black jumpsuit and a pair of strappy silver LaDucas. Olivia switched clothes quickly so she could start this rehearsal. As she made sure everything was zipped and tucked in, she thought of the phrase that was spoken to her, and over her: "You can do whatever you put your mind to."

And with that, she opened the trailer door, and strutted off to set.

"Ok, Liv, give me more."

Quickly, she turned in a circle, swiveled her leg, and lifted it into a gloriously high kick, called a grand battement. On relevé, no less. After that, she moved diagonally, stepping forward into a powerful layout, dropping her arms as she leaned back.

Apparently, the executions weren't "fierce" enough. The take was going on forever; they had been working on the same damn scene for about 15 minutes. Stephen wanted a particular look and had the cameramen shoot clips of Olivia randomly bouncing around like a modern ballerina. It didn't make sense because she viewed herself as more of a jazz dancer. But of course, this was the job and she had to go along with it.

"Do it again, please."

"Her arch is immaculate! Look at that lower back strength," LaToia commented.

Resetting, Olivia repeated the combination, doing it exactly as she was instructed. When she pulled herself out of the layout when she heard "Cut!", her eyes shifted towards her mentor and director, hoping for a sign of approval.

"Liv, come on," Stephen gestured, his Scottish accent becoming stronger. "We need to move forward so please do it the way I asked."

"I'm doing my best, alright," she placed her hands on her hips, turning away to visualize this "perfect" move her director was looking for.

Two more times; tempers were still high. Olivia's jaw was clenched, while Stephen spoke with LaToia. As much as she hated being corrected in public, especially by someone whom she knew, she was grateful it wasn't in front of Fitz. That would have thrown her into a bigger loop.

"Alright! Take five, everyone."

Her shoulders slumped, very unsure of what was incorrect. What was going wrong? Was she really out of it? Her marks seemed to be right.

"What is your problem," Olivia question, shooting Stephen a frustrated glare.

"Look, Liv. What you give in the rehearsal hall or on stage, is spectactular. But the camera sees differently, and it's not showing as well. I don't know what the hell is going on but I need you to kick it into overdrive. I am putting my ass on the line for you. No one knows you like I do, and your behavior is making me look like an idiot. They already think I'm playing favorites."

Olivia's face soured; "Are you implying I'm dancing like crap right now?"

Stephen immediately crossed his arms in defense. "No! I'm not saying that. It's just not translating on camera. We're on a time crunch, plus I know that Harri scheduled you for the callback. So it's important that we hit these marks. Give me more face, express through your whole body. I'll have LaToia go over things with you when we return from break. I just need everyone to be happy."

"I need to get to back to the trailer? May I do that?"

"Sure," he replied, patting her hand. "You know I'm in your corner. We just need to get through this take and it will be smooth sailing."

Olivia curtly nodded, with her face void of expression. "Yup. I'll be back."

Walking to the trailer, she felt a few hot tears spill down on her cheeks. It wasn't the critiques that were hurtful. It was the realization that she wasn't at her best and she truly felt that she had been hitting it. That was her fear — failing.

She slammed the door as she made her way to her seat.

Fitz was sitting on the couch, in a t-shirt and jeans, reading an email on his phone. Just as he was about to greet her, he noticed her body language, and immediately asked, "Olivia? What's wrong?"

"Do you ever feel like you're fucking up everything?"

"All the time."

Looking into the mirror to make eye contact with him, Olivia continued, "I'm doing these steps correctly. Exactly how LaToia wants it. And now Stephen wants to have a powertrip and embarrass me in front of everyone! Maybe he's doing too much because we're close. But I didn't sign up for this!"

"I see."

Clenching her fists, she let out a heavy sigh. "Sorry."

"No, let it all out. I'm just a listening ear," he replied, with soft, understanding eyes. Olivia looked up into the mirror; it was the same gaze when he was on top of her, as they were making love.

It took her by surprise. Olivia allowed herself to let her mind temporarily wander to the night before. Her lips turned upward.

"What?" Fitz asked, trying to get into her head. His smile was so charming.

Shaking her head slightly, she answered, "I just needed a minute."

"You were thinking about..."

Olivia cut him off with a sharp "Shhhh!" But it was futile; they both started laughing.

"Don't worry, I have been too. Last night was awesome. You did great."

"I did?" She wasn't sure what direction the conversation was heading, so she was ready to put up an emotional wall.

Fitz corrected himself, standing up, taking a few steps towards her. "I didn't mean like that. You just...were so beautiful and perfect. And it was a wonderful end to a fun day with you."

Olivia understood and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thanks. This was a good distraction."

"Hello?"

Stephen's assistant had knocked on the door. Olivia let go of Ftiz's hand, for fear of being caught.

"Yes?"

"Miss Pope, we're starting back up. Are you ready?"

Olivia repinned some of her stray hairs back in place and confirmed, "Yes. Ready to go."

"Hi, I'm Fitz. Mind if I tag along?"

Her eyes followed him as he introduced himself. His upper lip had this unique curl every time he said his own name, she noticed. Everything about him was so easy, so natural, so attractive.

This made no sense.

Was she getting too attached?

The assistant nodded.

In silence, the three trekked back to the lot.

"Olivia."

Her eyes met Fitz's. Those blue orbs were soft, full of understanding. Olivia had not been that familiar with this kind of compassion.

Trying to answer, but for some reason, her throat was tight. He decided to allievate her nerves by gently touching her arm.

"You can do this."