New Years Eve morning came with a rush, and Amelia found herself waking up much too early with a pounding headache. Getting up to stumble to the bathroom for some Advil, she pleasantly found that she was naked and smiled, remembering last night. They'd been dating officially since September, but they had waited months to have sex and for some reason she enjoyed her self control. Perhaps that was because that seemed to be the only control she had anymore. Every night they had gone out to dinner, and while she wasn't fat, her weight was hoovering around 100 again and it was pulling her depression down. Needless to say, though, she had a feeling that she was the only person who noticed her weight gain, as she stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of her closet door, her hands splayed across her stomach. She felt huge; she had let herself gorge on Christmas and then again last night she had had so much to eat and drink. Sighing, she turned back to bed, only to find Owen staring at her with a smile at her face.
"Amelia," he smiled, and she couldn't help but climb back into bed with him, her hair still done up in pins from the night before, her perfume lingering on her soft, snowy white skin. He drew her into a kiss as she smiled, her fingers running through his hair.
"So I was thinking, we have the whole month off. Do you want to come to Seattle with me?" Her breath caught in her throat. He was inviting her home with him. She would undoubtedly meet his mother and younger sister. Inwardly, she felt that she would be judged because she was so much younger than him; she was 20 and he was 28. And he loved her. Owen Hunt, the object of her 17 year old crush, was in love with her. It boggled her mind and she was still trying to process it as he sat there waiting for an answer, the blankets pulled up so she was covered. But then again, he had spent Christmas with her family, he had met her mother as her boyfriend and not Derek's friend, and it had gone well. Sighing lightly, she smiled and gave him a small nod, before giving him another kiss.
"I'll come to Seattle with you," she told him, her hand on the back of his neck.
A few days later she found herself at the airport, coat slung over her arm as they waited in line at security. It was 6:30 am and she was exhausted, knowing she would sleep during the flight to Seattle. Leaning on Owen she yawned as they slowly inched their way forward, holding onto her passport and her boarding pass, closing her eyes when they weren't moving. When they finally cleared security and made it to the gate, she sat by the window and looked outside. It was still dark and she smiled; she loved seeing the world go by before the sun was up, it was part of the reason why she loved her morning runs, no matter what the weather was. Yawning, she let her head fall on Owen's shoulder again and she closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep until they boarded the plane, which came sooner than she expected it to. Once they were in their seats, her eyes finally fell shut for good before the plane even took off.
Landing in Seattle 7 hours later, she was alert and awake, feeling anxious and nervous to meet Owen's mom and sister. As they stood on the escalator heading towards baggage claim, she slipped her hand into Owen's and gave it a tight squeeze; he kissed her forehead in return.
"Mia, my mom isn't going to judge you, or us. She's very patient and understanding, she's going to love you. And Megan will too, she hated Cristina, and Cristina's younger than you are as well, remember, she and Meredith are the same age." She had to give him credit there; Meredith was only 24, only four years older than she was, and she was engaged to her 29 year old brother. But still, she was only going to be 21 in July, and he was turning 29 this year, it made her nervous. She felt him lift his head, and she followed his gaze towards a woman with white hair, and a slim red haired girl who could be Owen's twin.
"Come on, Mia, come meet my mom and Megan." She swallowed hard and followed him down the rest of the escalator steps until she was standing in front of the two Hunt women, forcing a smile onto her lips.
"Mom, Megan, this is Amelia, she's a soloist at NYCB, she's my pas partner, and my girlfriend," he said, and Amelia smiled, wishing a hole would open in the floor and swallow her. To their credit though, both Evelyn and Megan smiled back, and Megan even enveloped her in a tight hug.
"Oh my gosh, it's so nice to finally meet you! Owen talks about you so much, and I've seen videos of you dancing on the NYCB YouTube channel, and I've looked up your YAGP solos, you're seriously amazing for being 20," Megan gushed, and Amelia's eyes widened. She knew Megan danced for Boston Ballet and she smiled lightly, still blushing a bit.
"Oh, don't watch any of that, I'm really not that fantastic," she said with a shake of her head, while Owen went to fetch their suitcases. Megan laughed, waving her hand.
"I've been a soloist for a few years, you totally don't have to be modest even if Owen is about his accomplishments. I mean, yours speak for themselves and they're all over the internet," she pointed out, and Amelia sort of shrank even more. She wasn't sure if she should be proud of herself or embarrassed that her entire performance history with ballet was out there for the world to see. In the next moment, Owen returned with their things and grabbed her hand.
"Let's go back to the house, I know Amelia's exhausted, and I could use a nap probably," he said, pulling Amelia close. She smiled and grabbed the handle on her suitcase, the four of them walking out to the car. Stepping outside into the damp air, it was entirely different from NYC. Wrinkling her nose, she wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to Seattle.
The car ride back to his house wasn't long, and she spent it in the backseat with Megan, the two of them discussing YAGP and their experiences with it. Both girls had loved it and had won in the top three more than once, and were discussing what variations they'd done and what they had won. Overall, she liked Megan; she was sweet and funny and full of sass.
Once they were at his house and their things were upstairs in his room, Amelia had been kidnapped by Megan, the two of them sitting in the family room and chatting about both their dance lives, but she asked her a few personal questions instead.
"So Owen told me your dad passed, too," Megan said, and Amelia stiffened, wrapping her hands around a mug of tea. It was pouring outside and she made a small noise, nodding. She hadn't gone into details with Owen but he bit her lip slightly.
"He did, I was five. I don't remember many details," she lied, taking a sip of her hot tea. She shrugged, wanting to move past the topic. For the rest of the afternoon they talked about various things, the two girls bonding as Owen popped in every so often to make sure Amelia wasn't overwhelmed.
She spent a week in Seattle with him; she adored his mother and Megan, but she knew her own mother wanted to spend time with her, and Meredith wanted her to help her plan the wedding, scheduled for June. Somehow she had managed to be her maid of honor, and upon arriving back in NYC, she was whisked away to Vera Wang to be fitted into her gown for the wedding, the dressmaker taking note of how petite Amelia was, something which brought a deep blush onto her cheeks.
January flew by, however, and when February came, Owen came back to New York, settling into Amelia's apartment. To her, it felt familiar, waking up every morning to him, drinking coffee at the kitchen counter before walking the five blocks to Lincoln Center. Somehow at only 20, she had settled into an adult relationship, and she was happy with herself for all that she had overcome, but still she knew she had so much more to get over.
The first day back to NYCB, casting lists had already gone up. Swan Lake, Le Corsaire, Coppelia and Giselle were the classical ballets, with a long list of contemporary and Balanchine to round out the list. Scanning for her name, she followed the dotted line to see what roles she had. Gasping in surprise, her eyebrows shot up. She was second cast for Odette/Odile, first cast of Medora in Le Corsaire, Swanhilda in Coppelia and Giselle in Giselle. Peter either was crazy or had a plan for her. She sucked in her breath and headed for her dressing room, ducking her head against all of the jealous glares, and slammed the door shut behind her as she got ready for class, putting on a pair of pointe shoes and piling on warmups against the bitter, February air. Meredith came in after her, her eyes wide.
"How did you get every lead role!? I'm second cast to you, except in Swan Lake, where I'm first cast," she said, standing in front of her mirror and doing her hair. She didn't sound angry as Amelia stood against the wall and stretched out her splits, her bones cracking and popping after a month of with only a few classes at Steps.
"I honestly have no idea," she said, her eyes darting around the room. Lexie was avoiding her gaze as was Jo, and she bit her lip, blushing. It was no secret that she was one of the favorites in her third year at the company and she sighed, tugging on her sweater a bit before leaving the room entirely with her water. She knew the other girls were senior to her and were bitter but she didn't care; somehow she had managed to earn the roles. Now to lose the holiday weight so she looked fantastic in those stunning, classic costumes.
Taking her place at the barre, she started to stretch, still avoiding the jealous glares as Owen came up to her, smiling.
"Mia, I'm so proud of you," he smiled, kissing her deeply. Her success affected them both and for the first time all morning, she smiled up at him, touching his cheek.
"This season is going to be spectacular," she smiled. He moved into the empty barre position behind her as Meredith stepped in before the pianist sat down, and music filled the room. They did their regular warm up, working their dormant muscles and soon the room was warm from their body heat, warm ups being shed as they were soon down to leotards and tights, a short black skirt fluttering around Amelia's thighs.
After barre, Peter wanted to get started on Swan Lake right away. Most of the company knew the choreography already, but Amelia needed to be taught all of Odette/Odile, and the roles she was doing as the first cast. Darci came in and smiled at Ameila, dressed in a purple leotard and a black skirt, her hair pulled back neatly. Owen stood against the barre, on the ready should Darci want to start on any of the Pas', but she wanted to test Amelia and see what she was made of.
"So, let me see the Black Swan Coda," Darci said, challenging them both. She knew for a fact that the pair had never danced it together, and Amelia had probably never danced it at all. But coolly, Amelia shed her skirt and pulled on a practice tutu as Owen took his place in the center as the music started, Amelia waiting for her cue. She may not have performed it, but SAB always made sure their students were well-trained in the important variations. Amelia didn't miss a beat, coming in at the right cue and as she whipped around in a triple pirouette, she smiled triumphantly as she saw the look on Darci's face. At the end of her part of the first half of the coda, she did the requisite curtsies before traveling to center stage, executing the famous 32 foeuttes, throwing in doubles and triples in there, before landing soundly in fourth, catching her breath before Owen took her hand and they finished the variation. They were that in sync, that in tune with out another, that they didn't even have to have rehearsed it before. Trying to hide the smirk on her lips, Amelia lifted her chin.
"Was that okay?" she asked in an innocent voice, Darci clearly rattled. She wrinkled her nose but nodded at them both.
"It was…almost perfect, actually," she said, knowing she was dealing with someone with an immense amount of talent for her age. Amelia smiled, tucking a lock of hair back into her bun.
"Let's run it again, and then we'll start going over some of Odette's pieces," she said, as Amelia sipped on her water, casually giving Owen a smirk. She was arrogant, she knew. She was also confident in her abilities. An arrogant, confident, young ballerina who could see her path spread out ahead of her.
They continued to rehearse the other ballets, but the season opened with Swan Lake, and shockingly Peter sent on Amelia. With her eyes wide, Meredith helped her get ready in her Odette costume as she went through the motions of doing her makeup, having her headpiece pinned on, and getting into her pointe shoes. She didn't remember making her way to the stage, or even the performance, but suddenly she was beside Owen as they took their bows, and she was all smiles. She had gotten through the ballet in one piece, to thunderous applause. Peter came out and presented her with a huge bouquet of flowers as Owen wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead, and she knew she'd remember this night for the rest of her life.
Throughout February they danced on, the main big ballets and the smaller ones that were usually three or four a night, as Amelia started to feel the burn out coming on. She pushed through, knowing it would pass, but she was just becoming so exhausted from being in leading roles most of the time, not letting the second cast go on for her.
It wasn't until mid-March though, that everything came crashing down around her. It was during a performance of Giselle, doing the famous hops, that her life ground to a halt. She had always had the hops down to a science, making them look effortless, but tonight she came down on her pointe shoe too hard, her foot wobbled, and she twisted her ankle hard as she fell off pointe. Embarrassed, she got back on pointe, but something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong with her foot. The pain was shooting up her leg, and she forced the smile to stay on her face as she continued with her variation, continuing until the end where she posed, then cut the scene short as she ran off. Alex began his part early as Amelia collapsed in the wings, tears running down her cheeks; Peter ran over to his star, clearly distressed.
"Amelia, what happened, what's wrong?" he asked her.
"My foot, something's wrong with my foot," she said, sweating profusely, the world dizzy around her as nausea flared in her stomach. She wanted to throw up from the pain that overtook her.
"Someone get Meredith in costume, she'll go on, and fetch Owen, put Mark on for him," Peter demanded as someone picked up Amelia, rushing her to the physical therapy room. The physical therapist peeled her costume off of her and used a pair of scissor to cut her pointe shoes off of her, but her foot had already swollen to three times it's size. She lay on her back on the table, her eyes glassy as she stared up at the ceiling, feeling fingers gingerly touch her ankle as she felt a scream come from deep within her.
"Someone call for an ambulance," she heard someone say, and in the next moment she felt Owen's hand slip into hers. He was out of his costume and had brought her her leggings and sweater, quickly helping to change her into them. The tears kept streaming down her face as he got behind her and held her close.
"Mia, it's going to be okay," he whispered, her gaze flickering down to her right ankle/foot, which was swollen and rapidly turning purple. This wasn't fair, this was her season. She sank back into his arms and sobbed, choking a few times as he held her, and soon enough the EMT's were there, assessing her foot and transferring her onto the gurney.
"I want Owen with me," she protested in a small, quiet voice, and he followed her out to the ambulance. The drive to Mt Sinai was short, and Amelia remembered another trip like this all too well. Once they got to the ER and she was placed in a room, she didn't remember much – they pushed dilaudid and Benadryl, along with Ativan for her anxiety, and she was out of it, falling asleep quickly as she drugs hit her small body. It wasn't until the doctors came in with her x-ray results did she wake up, eager to hear her fate.
"Miss Shepherd…I'm afraid you shattered your foot and ankle. We're going to have to operate immediately." Her face fell as she fought not to cry. Surgery. She might not dance again. She looked over at Owen who ran a hand through her hair, giving her a kiss.
"We're moving you up to a room now and surgery will be in a few hours," the doctor told her, as the nurse went to move the bed out of the room. Owen followed behind, frantically calling her mother to come to the hospital, that it was an emergency. She curled up under the blankets on the gurney before they got to a private room, helping her into the bed. She pulled the blankets up to her chin as a nurse came in to give her more pain medication, slipping in and out of consciousness.
Soon enough Carolyn arrived, bearing clean clothes and warm, fluffy blankets as she took in her almost catatonic daughter in the hospital bed, sitting next to own in the spacious hospital room.
"Amelia," she said, and Amelia heard her voice but didn't come out of her haze. She closed her eyes and rolled over, willing them to come get her for surgery. Finally, they did, and Carolyn helped her change into a gown before she was taken off. The surgery took a few hours and she woke up in the recovery room as they extubated her, coughing as the tube was pulled from her throat. Her foot was throbbing in pain as she cried out, and she felt a nurse come over and give her more medication. Soon the doctor came over and started talking to her.
"So Miss Shepherd, there was extensive damage to the bones due to severe osteopenia, but we managed to save them. I put in two metal plates and 13 screws. It's going to take some time and a lot of physical therapy but you'll get full function back." Amelia swallowed hard, tears forming in her eyes.
"I'm a ballerina with the New York City Ballet," she started, her eyes falling. He shook his head lightly.
"With proper rest and rehabilitation you should be able to dance again by fall, I've operated on many of you," he smiled, but she only sighed, closing her eyes and letting the drugs lull her back to sleep.
She stayed in the hospital for a few days, on heavy painkillers and antibiotics, Owen never leaving her side. For the first few days they left her alone, letting her sleep and recover, but after three days they forced her to get up and start walking with crutches. Her foot was in severe pain, but she was lucky enough to have avoided a full on cast – her foot was wrapped in gauze and bandages, an ace bandage, and placed in a boot.
Eventually as she healed, she and Owen had contests down the hall of the ortho ward, as to who could move faster on crutches. Finally she was laughing again as she beat him every time, only to end up kissing him. He had been given all of March off to help take care of her, but he was going back in April.
There were only two weeks left in March by the time Amelia came home, and when it turned into April she was left on her own in the apartment. Between the pain and the painkillers, she was never hungry, and so she began to shrink. Already at 85 pounds, it started in a subtle way. Her face grew more angular, with her jawline becoming more defined and her cheekbones protruding even more than they had before. Her legs became thinner, looking like they could snap at any moment. But for Owen, it was difficult for him to see the changes in her, because he saw her every day. After a few days, she was already down four pounds, and in the back of her mind she knew she should be forcing herself to eat – she was trying to keep up her strength for ballet, but her spirits were so low. Some days she went to class and observed, watching rehearsals, but most days it was too painful for her to watch some dumb soloist girl who was far less talented than she was fumble through her roles. Half the time she ended up stumbling out of the studio and walking on her crutches back to the apartment.
It was during April that she just let it go. For 20 days straight she had nothing but water and she became more gaunt, more withdrawn, more quiet. She hid her body under Owen's shirts and her heavy sweatshirts; it was getting warmer outside but she was always freezing cold, and she couldn't come up with an excuse to keep the heat on in the apartment during the spring. Miserable in her anorexia, she slept constantly during the day, only waking up when Owen came home from the theater and she made dinner for him, lying that she'd already eaten, having dirtied a few plates and pans up in the sink.
Seeing the surgeon again, she was given the all-clear to start back at dance on flat, if she continued with her physical therapy. She was torn between going back to class, and staying at home in her apartment – standing in front of the mirror naked after a shower, she examined her body, seeing and feeling every bone in her body. It scared her, how far she had let her body go; she had stopped weighing herself once she had fallen below 70. At that moment she heard the apartment door slam and she grabbed for her clothes but it was too late. Owen walked into the bedroom and saw her for what she was, and she knew she'd never be able to forget the look on his face as he took in her naked body – the skin stretched over bone, her shrunken breasts, her thinning hair. He bit his lip and moved forward, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
"Amelia, why didn't you tell me something was wrong?" he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. She bit down on her lip, feeling lethargic as she looked up at him.
"I've struggled with my eating for years," she finally confessed, thinking back to when she was 12 and that first time she had shoved her fingers down her throat after lunch at SAB. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as he grabbed one of the throw blankets and wrapped it around her, sitting her down on the bed with a small sigh. He knew most of the girls in the company struggled with eating, but Amelia was severe. She was shrinking away before him, and he loved her too much to let her die.
"I just..I don't know. I've been so unhappy because I can't dance that I stopped eating," she confessed, hanging her head.
"My weight has been up and down since I was young, but the whole time I've been in the company it's been bad. Under 100. I just…I didn't want to take the time off to get help," she said, her bare feet brushing on the wooden floor. He sighed heavily, moving over to her and kissing her forehead.
"We can tell Peter your foot needs more time, and you can get help. But you need to tell your mom, Mia, she needs to know you're sick." Sick. The word resonated through her like she had been stung. She swallowed and looked up at him, her eyes sunken and hollow. She had never thought of it that way, an illness. From her perspective it was the mirror, the mirror chanting to her that she wasn't good enough, that she wasn't thin enough, that she wasn't pretty enough. Suddenly the tears started running down her face, and Owen rushed to hold her again.
"Oh Mia, I'm here for you, I'm not leaving you ever, okay? I love you so much and this is something you can do, you can recover from this, or you can try. I know an eating disorder isn't the easiest thing to heal from, but you have to try. Please? I don't want you to die," he said, nuzzling his face close to hers. She moved her arms around his neck and sighed, still crying.
"I'll do what I can," she promised him.
The next few days were a blur. In the morning she invited her mother over, who was shocked by her youngest child's appearance. She sat down on the couch and wept, as Amelia sat there and stared into space, having no feelings at all. Within days she had an assessment at New York Presbyterians Center for Eating Disorders in Westchester County, and from her assessment she was admitted right to the ward, inpatient, at a weight of 65 pounds. They immediately shoved an NG tube down her nose when she was placed in the inpatient unit, and she didn't try and struggle as she pulled her sweatshirt closer to her freezing body.
At first, she was reluctant to join in any group activities. She stayed in her room journaling, or playing games on her phone. Owen came every day, having taken the rest of the season off just for her. It saddened him to see his bright and shiny princess so depressed and ruined; there was no spark to her, even when she spoke to him. She wasn't eating on her own, but rather letting the tube feed her, and because of that she was gaining weight slowly. In a month's time she had only gained up to 70 pounds, and the doctors told her she had to start eating meals with the rest of the unit.
Breakfast came and she found herself sitting at a table with a small bowl of cereal in front of her, with a carton of apple juice and tears came to her eyes. She really didn't want to do this, but she knew if she didn't they'd just give her more into her tube. Pressing her lips together, she let the tears fall as she put a single Cheerio on her spoon, moving it into her mouth. She was so unused to chewing that it felt foreign at first, but she did it, one piece after another, until she had finished the bowl of cereal. Immediately her stomach rebelled; she was in severe pain and excused herself from the table, running down the hall to her room to lay down, curled up in a ball. Her stomach just wasn't used to food anyone. Pressing the pillow to her eyes, she sobbed until a nurse came in with medication to help her stomach, and soon enough it had helped her and she was able to relax.
Her time inpatient was spent mostly by herself, but after three weeks she started to unwind. She was a public figure and didn't want any of her information getting out into the world, but both Owen and her mother encouraged her to take part in groups. By the second week of May, between eating and her NG tube, she had gained enough weight to be removed from the tube, and she celebrated by having a dessert of chocolate ice cream, something she hadn't allowed herself to have in almost seven years. She took photos of all of her recovery wins, sending them to Owen when she could, always happy to receive an excited selfie in return, and a warm hug during visiting hours. She was prohibited from dancing, but the program had yoga, pilates, and they even allowed her to keep up with her barre work, as long as it didn't become too extensive. Somedays she was allowed to do cardio, and she smiled as her legs regained their balletic beauty, small muscles starting to form where there was once just nothing but taut skin.
By the end of May, she was nearing her goal weight to spring free from the treatment center and enter IOP – intensive outpatient. She would be living back at her apartment, with supervised meals made by Owen to make sure she met her calories and exchanges, and going to a day program at NYU. She was allowed to dance once again, and she started with classes at Steps as well as more physical therapy, wanting to make sure her foot would be okay. She had nothing to worry about, though – the foot she had all but shattered was in perfect working order, and was stronger than her left foot, somehow. She was eager to join the company in Saratoga Springs, but she knew she wasn't allowed to yet, and so she took class after class at Steps, making sure to snack inbetween her classes.
The best part of all, however, was that she was able to join her family in the Hamptons for Meredith and Derek's wedding at the end of June. She was maid of honor, and Owen was best man, and as she and Meredith got ready in her spacious bedroom, she couldn't help but feel blessed. Blessed that her broken foot had led to her rock bottom, which led to her subsequent treatment and recovery. She still weighed under 100 pounds, but her treatment team had decided to let it slide – she was a professional ballerina and her weight would always be up and down from dancing so much, but as she stood behind Meredith, buttoning up the back of her wedding gown, she smiled into the mirror. She felt and looked healthier than she had in years, and she squeezed Meredith's arm lightly.
"I'm so glad you're marrying my brother," she said softly, her blue eyes shining bright. She wore a sea green tea length strapless dress, her bouquet of white roses sitting on the bed. Meredith looked gorgeous in a frothy Vera Wang number, her blonde hair pulled back into curls as Amelia pinned her veil onto her head, straightening it down her back.
"Addison never quite fit into the family. Too showy, too demanding, too much. But you're perfect. You love Derek for him, and not his money. You make him happy with just your presence, when you walk into the room he lights up. Derek and I….we're protective of each other. I know he's told you about our father," she said, trying to keep the mood light. Meredith nodded, applying the lipstick Amelia handed her out of her makeup bag.
"We always had a bond because of that, more than that of our sisters. He's older, but he likes to protect me from things, and I think when he realized why I was so destructive, he shut down. He couldn't handle it. Because I'm the baby and I used to be small and quiet, but now I'm loud and an adult. But he's starting to realize that it's not his fault, that nothing in the world could have protected me from what happened." She smiled, turning Meredith around and fixing her eyeshadow a bit.
"Come on, let's get you married," she said with a smile, picking up their flowers. The other sisters were elsewhere in the expansive beach house as they left the room, knowing the men were in the poolhouse. Amelia shot a text to their mother saying they were ready, and everyone moved into place. The wedding was on the beach, just before the surf came in, everything set up with an arch, seats, and an aisle. Nancy went down first, followed by Kate and Lizzie, then Amelia. She smiled at Owen, her eyes full of white once again, her heels clacking on the wooden aisle as she stood beside Meredith, holding her flowers. The ceremony went by quickly, and soon Meredith and Derek were Dr. and Mrs. Shepherd, and Amelia's eyes were steadily on Owen's. They'd been together two years now, and she knew she was going to marry him someday.
It wasn't long before the sun was setting and cocktail hour was over, and the dancing began. Amelia was all smiles and laughter as she danced with Owen, stopping to eat her dinner before dancing again. Laughing close to her ear he pointed out the pool house with a smirk.
"So is that where you used to jump off of?" he asked her, and she burst into peals of laughter.
"Perhaps," she teased him, kissing him on the lips before they went back to dancing the night away. It had been a hell of a spring season, but Amelia knew she'd just gotten through some of the hardest things she'd ever had to face. Her next stop was vigorously retraining her body for fall season, and making sure she stayed at the n
Whew, that was the longest chapter ever! It took me about four days to write! But now I've updated this and I can get to all my Merder fics!
For the people who have commented that they want me to update my MerDer fics more, I have this to say; it is very difficult to update stories that you don't have inspiration for very often, and you grasp at straws to come up with ideas for. The reason I update this one so often is because I find inspiration everywhere, especially being a dancer with self-destructive habits. I also relate to Amelia a lot as well. That does not mean I don't love my MerDer stories, I just feel some of them have gone on very long and they're starting to lose their spark for inspiration. So I apologize that you're upset but a writer needs inspiration and muse in order write. That doesn't mean I'm ending them or aren't going to update them, but that may mean more time between updates and more updating of this story because I have so many ideas for this one and less ideas for others as I've done a lot of ideas for my others.