Trying to figure out the Dance Moms had never been easy. As of 2016, even attempting to do that was more than Abby wanted to commit. The mamas were driving her nuts on a daily basis!
Battle lines, sharp and distinct were drawn. The mothers of the junior elite team had had enough. The women were unhappy and fed up with Abby's dissing their daughters. She constantly showered the mini team with all of her attention. Their girls got less than scraps, and they deserved so much better. All of them had left their families behind because Abby had promised these girls so much, fame, fortune, super-stardom, but was now delivering next to nothing. Defection was in the air.
This was war! The disgruntled mothers went on the march, determined to help their kids fulfill their dreams at the 3rd Street Dance studio. They'd turned to Erin Babbs, who'd agreed to assume responsibility. Taking Kalani, Nia, Kendall and Brynn under her wing, she'd promised to pick up where disappointing Abby had left off. 3rd Street Dance had been their refuge when they'd first come to L.A. Abby's studio had only been architectural plans on paper back then. Returning to the mirrored walls of that sanctuary just felt right.
In a few days, the girls would prove that they didn't need Abby anymore. They could compete, and be winners, like Nia's new song proclaimed. They'd show how independent they could be when they won first place for solos and their group dance. Their mothers had taken to calling themselves, 'Moms' Dance School.'
When Abby heard about it, on the same day she'd seen #newbeginnings online, she'd been quick to say, "Well, they won't get any points for originality."
If it was a war they wanted, Abby was Commander-in-Chief.
To Gianna, in confidence, she'd said, "Those women are crazy if they think that by just hanging out in a dance studio they know anything valuable about dance instruction. They're just too proud to admit that the decisions I've made for their kids over the years have put their girls where they are now. Their moms are ungrateful wannabes, who think they know it all. I need the minis to be best overall in this competition. Those mothers need a blinding reality check. Maybe they'll come to their senses when their kids lose. Maybe they'll get the point. I'm not the enemy. I'm their dance instructor. The only one that understands what it takes to make young dancers stars. I have for decades!"
A gifted chorographer in her own right, Gianna, not wanting to lose her job agreed; she always went along with Abby, her dictatorial boss. Under her breath, she remarked, "I really miss the junior elites."
Nodding, Abby couldn't deny as much. "You think I don't? Like I keep saying, I love those girls as if they were my own. It's those dopey, loudmouthed moms we can do without."
On that, Gianna had to agree. Too many times, she had been the victim of those mothers' rabid ranting about something not working for one of their girls. Had it been faulty chorography, or a daughter's lack of skill, or talent?
Abby's eyes softened. She couldn't help reminiscing about old times. "If Maddie were here..." Her voice trailed, and she heaved a sigh. "The Junior Elite team would still be winning."
Processing that, Gianna closed her eyes and said as she sighed, "We're not dwelling on the past, right? Remember you said."
Shaking off her sudden bout of melancholy, Abby gave Gianna credit. She reached across her desk to pat her hand. "I remember, and if you catch me feeling sorry for myself, running in here to cry, you snap me out of those funks. You got that?"
"I got that, and your back, Abbs," Gianna warmly replied, glad that she, for the most part, had the luxury of not taking sides in this cauldron of bubbling drama, day after day, week after week.
Abby brightened, thinking ahead to the Sheer Talent Dance Competition. "If the Junior Elites fall flat on their faces, they can't say I wanted them to. I hope they're great. I hope the minis are greater. Those little girls are better than the Juniors were at their age."
Gianna had to admit Abby was right there too; the minis were exceptional; so young and insanely talented. "Is Peyton still not competing?" What had happened between Abby and Peyton's mom, Kerri, was a true shame. Peyton's costume, a dress layered with all kinds of trash pinned to it, may have been extreme, but mothers and kids didn't get to tell Abby what would be worn, and what wouldn't. Those boundaries were defined and rigid.
The day after the Sheer Talent Dance Competition, Abby and Gianna were back in the office, waiting for the Minis and their moms to show up. Stretching her arms, Abby dangled her hands high above her head. A contented look danced over her face. "This isn't over."
"Think Nia, Kendall, Kalani and Brynn'll come back?" Gianna asked, raising an eyebrow. "Their moms too?"
Not mincing words, Abby snapped, "If they know what's good for them, they will. Then again, when have those mothers ever known what's good for them and their kids?" As she'd said that, what she'd barked at Jill Vertes, who'd made a point of saying that everyone is replaceable, before the competition, leapt into Abby's mind.
"You moms think your kids are stars now, and I had nothing to do with it. You're delusional, in denial, and make your daughters take it on the chin. So, let's just see how they do."
Everyone had witnessed the dismal results firsthand. Kalani had come in second, which meant she'd lost, according to Abby, who had clapped because the other girl had taken first place. Kira had gone on record having stated that if she didn't hate Abby before, she sure as sugar hated her now. Brynn had come in first. No surprise there. The girl wasn't about to stop trying to be Maddie's replacement. Kendall's neck injury had kept her out of performing a solo, but Abby was sure that if she had been able to compete, the result would've been less than placing first. The basis for that assessment came from the team's group performance, which had been deplorable. They'd placed third. Third!
According to Abby: "Enough said."