It wasn't just any other rehearsal. This was the last free rehearsal before this year's Miss Teenage Hairspray Pageant, and Mrs. Von Tussle was putting them through their paces like never before. There was going to be a live studio audience for this performance, agents were coming in from New York; and so help them all it was going to be perfect.

To say she was being a tyrant would be a gross understatement. Every council member was being pushed to their limit and beyond with the new dances and displays she was demanding. They went through dance after dance, not to mention the processions, promenades, and ceremonies that made up the show; and Mrs. Von Tussle insisted on perfection. Each one of them had been subjected to her sharp tone and cutting words, but the full force of her tyranny had been focused on one single person - her own daughter, Amber.

Of course this meant that, as her partner, Link was taking his fair share of collateral harassment; but the sharp words and intense pace didn't put a dent in his stamina. He found that the rigorous repetition brought a sense of sharp accuracy that filled him with pride, and the heaviness of exhausted muscles carried with it a sense of accomplishment that he relished. Simply put, Link just loved to dance. It was probably the combination of these things - added to the fact that he kept looking over to watch Tracy smiling and dancing with Bix - that kept him from realizing sooner just what bad shape Amber was in.

They had just completed the final turn when she went limp in his arms. He was supposed to spin her out and then bow as she curtsied; but instead he found himself simply holding her up, bracing his feet to support her dead weight. His stationary position put him into Tammy's spin out zone and she bumped into him and stumbled.

Mrs. Von Tussle was already halfway across the polished dance floor, cutting through the chain reaction of chaos, when Amber opened her eyes and managed to get her feet under her again.

"What is the matter with you two tonight?" Mrs. Von Tussle demanded. "How many times do we have to go over this before we can execute a simple bow?" Her voice was a harsh whisper, her pale hands fisted on her boney hips.

"It was my fault, Mrs. Von Tussle," Link inserted. "I guess I just need a break." He chanced a look at Amber, his hand still supporting her at the small of her back. She wasn't looking at either of them. "I think maybe we all do." This last part was added with a bit less subservience, and Velma's icy blue eyes narrowed at him.

"This pageant," she whispered, callously pointing at his chest with a skeletal finger, "Is very important to my daughter and I'm not going to let anyone screw it up for her, Mr. Larkin. If you don't think you can cope with the pressure then perhaps we should find her another partner."

"I'll be fine," he said a little more coldly. It wasn't their first confrontation. She knew he was the most capable dancer on the show and she knew that he made Amber look good. It was probably the biggest reason she allowed him to date her daughter. He had been playing this sport of conflict and manipulation with her for almost three years, and the strange thing was that it hadn't really ever bothered him before. It had simply been a part of the game he played to get what he needed, and where he wanted to go. Today he felt disgusted with the whole mess. "I'm just going to get a drink of water."

Velma threw her hands in the air, "fine." She then spoke loudly to the room at large, "everyone, take a short break." Her voice was sickly sweet and full of false cheer, a sign to everyone that she was barely containing her frustration. Still, they all breathed a sigh of relief and moved from their places, shuffling away on sore feet. "Five minutes, then back to work kids. This is our last chance to prepare and I know you want to do your best! There are agents coming, don't forget!" She turned back to her daughter, ignoring the quiet groans from all around her. "Amber dear, you look a bit… damp. Perhaps a little visit to the ladies room would be a good idea."

"Yes, mother," Amber said quietly and pressed a hand to her face. Mrs. Von Tussle gave her daughter a tight smile and Link a warning glare before she walked away swiftly, her high heels making a menacing click-clack on the hard flooring.

Link turned Amber around and led her off the floor and to a quiet corner away from the grumbling mass of council members. She sat down on the edge of the raised stage with a 'flump' of ruffled skirts and looked up at him with a glare of irritation.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping back from her and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"I'm fine," she said, not really looking at him but focusing her gaze on the air just past his left shoulder. "You're the one who insisted on a break." Link just studied her for a moment. She was purposefully avoiding his eyes, her fingers toying with his ring which hung from a chain around her neck. He found himself once again wondering why he had given the thing to her in the first place. At the time it seemed like the thing to do. She had been pressing him about it ever since it had arrived, and after a year together it had seemed like the next step to take. Then, when he messed up and dropped her on the show that day he figured giving it to her would keep him in her good graces. He hadn't thought much about it afterwards; but in the last week, every time he looked at it hanging there, everything about it seemed incredibly wrong.

Here she sat, obviously having trouble, and she wouldn't even let him help her; let alone admit she needed help. If he was her boyfriend then shouldn't they be able to share things like that? Sure, up until now they hadn't really spent time talking about personal things; mostly they had just been hanging out, being seen around town together, and some physical stuff. But he couldn't think of a time they had actually talked about anything important. If they couldn't do that, then… what was this whole thing supposed to mean anyway?

"Amber," he began, wanting to address the situation. She must've heard something in his voice because she looked at him then, and he felt lucky his flesh hadn't been flayed from his bones; such was the intensity of her glare.

"Amber, are you alright?" Tracy's voice broke into the tense moment and Link knew his reaction to her arrival was written clearly on his face, a fact that was confirmed by the further darkening of his girlfriend's glower.

He turned to see Tracy standing near them, her face flushed with exertion, eyes filled with concern as they focused on Amber. "I thought maybe you could use a drink, so I brought you some water," she said steadily, continuing her offer despite the heat of Amber's gaze being turned on her. The ignored glass of water was still waiting in her small hand.

"I. Am. Fine," Amber said sharply. Then with saccharine concern she added, "Maybe you should worry about yourself right now. Frankly, I'm a tad concerned. You look like you might have a heart attack or something. It must truly be a strain carrying all that extra weight around on the dance floor when we're really working hard like this."

Link ground his teeth together in anger at her comment, and Tracy's peaceful countenance faltered slightly for a moment; but she recovered with a small smile. "I'll just leave it here in case you change your mind."

She moved to set the glass on the floor next to Amber but Link stepped forward and gently took it from her, his fingers brushing against her wrist as he did so. She looked up at him with surprise.

"Thanks Trace," he said, his hand lingering briefly.

"No… no problem," she responded with a late shrug. She turned and headed off toward the dressing area. After a moment of watching her walk away Link thought better of it and called out to her, but she didn't seem to hear him. He moved to follow but was stopped by the sound of Amber's voice.

"Link," she said, "you're supposed to be helping me."

He turned back to her with a sigh and she smiled victoriously as he took her hand in his. The plastic response fell away quickly when he pressed the cool glass into her palm.

"You're fine, remember?" he said softly. "Drink this and I'll be right back." He turned and hurried on sore feet to catch up to the other girl. He reached out a hand, touching her arm to get her attention.

"Hey, Trace," he said when she turned. She stopped and he came to stand in front of her. "How are you holding up? Mrs. Von Tussle is really working us over tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, she is. But I'm fine," she said softly, her exhaustion evident in her voice. They were the same words, but they had a completely different air about them than the ones Amber had spoken. She smiled up at him tiredly. "I'm exhausted but it feels good. When I nailed that swing combo it felt so amazing. It really gives you a sense of accomplishment doesn't it?"

Her words - so mirroring his own thoughts of a few moments ago - took him by surprise. "Yeah, it really does," he agreed.

"Is Amber gonna be alright?" Tracy asked, looking a little confused and worried. "I guess her mom really wants her to win."

"Don't you want to win, Trace?" he countered as he gave her a casual smirk.

"Well, of course I want to win," she said giving him a playfully saucy smile before turning serious again. "But still, I don't want her to be sick or anything…"

"She's tired and probably dehydrated, but I think she'll pull through," he said, still surprised by her concern. Though by now, he knew he shouldn't be.

"That's good," she said looking away for a moment. "How about you, you gonna be able to keep it up?"

"Hey, I'm Link Larkin; I can dance all day, all night – and look hip every minute of it," he finished the statement off with a wink and Tracy giggled, a sweet pleasing sound that pulsed through his chest, stealing his breath.

"That's good to know," she said and looked up at him with a look he could not decipher. She was so pretty it took his breath away and he stood there, stunned as every fiber of his being seemed to respond to her presence. His heart pounded out an unruly rhythm and the rushing in his ear seemed to whisper her name.

She looked back at him curiously, a small frown marring her brow, and he realized he had been staring. He opened his mouth to say something witty to cover his mistake but Mrs. Von Tussle stepped onto the floor, clapping her hands together to draw their attention. "Times up girls and boys, let's get back to work. We want to put on an incredible show, don't we now?"

Link and Tracy both stumbled over a few parting words and hurried back to their respective partners. He expected some retribution from Amber but none came. She just smiled sweetly at him as he helped her up and led her onto the dance floor.

They somehow made it through the rest of the rehearsal with their limbs and eardrums still intact. After the way he'd been carrying her around the floor, Link was surprised when Amber pulled him behind a bunch of props and shoved him up against the wall. Expecting a rebuke, he was stunned by the feel of her mouth covering his, her small form pressing intimately against him. His body responded before his mind could even catch up to what the hell was going on, and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

She was stroking him through his clothes and kissing his neck, and he was quickly forgetting why this was just so wrong right now, when she suddenly stopped and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I'm gonna forgive you for that little display earlier, because I know that you know exactly where you belong and who you belong with."

She stepped back and gave him a look of pure sex, a promise of something she would forever withhold he was sure, but the affect was the same regardless. She poked a finger to his chest, and then let it trail down to his flat stomach before walking way; leaving him hard, frustrated, confused – and completely hacked off.

In fact he didn't think he'd ever been this angry in his entire life.

After taking a moment to get his body under some semblance of control, he slipped out of a service door and stormed across the lot to his car. Once inside he just sat in the driver seat, his hands gripping and releasing the white steering wheel. What the hell was going on with him? He was turning into some kind of crazy mess! He couldn't be a crazy mess; he was Link Larkin for Christ sake! He was cool, detached, and above all of this. He didn't get twisted up over the things life threw at him. He didn't get heated over a chick.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, letting his head fall back against the seat. He tried to reclaim that disconnected feeling, to find that switch and flip it, letting all of this just fade to the background. He couldn't seem to find it.

He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. How dare she pull that crap! How dare she treat him… exactly like she always had; like he was her toy or her pet to be leashed and manipulated at her whim…? It had been that way for a long time now and it was something he had put up with for the perks of the relationship. He was just having a hard time remembering those perks at the moment since every one that came to mind seemed somehow far less important than it once had.

She was beautiful and she was wanted by every other guy in school; fans liked the two of them together and that was very important. Dancing with her also guaranteed that he got more screen time since she was lead dancer… and with her mother as the station manager, keeping Amber happy gave him chances the others didn't get. He needed those opportunities; he had a plan…

He took another deep breath. It wasn't a big deal, it was about being seen and heard; that was his goal, the only thing that mattered. Then he could get a record deal, or a bit on Broadway; maybe film, or even more television – anything that would let him do what he wanted with his life…

Amber's words suddenly replayed over and over in his mind. "…I know that you know exactly where you belong and who you belong with."

The image of Tracy's face filled his mind's eye, unbidden, and he allowed himself to focus on it. He tried to recall every aspect of her features he hadn't let himself dwell on before, like wide-set, dark eyes framed with long dark lashes, the sweetly shaped bow of her bottom lip, lush curve of her cheek, or the expressive arch of her eyebrow; then there were all those full, lush curves…

He was pulled from these tempting thoughts by the sounds of tired and irritable kids exiting the studio. He didn't want anyone asking for a ride, not tonight; so he pushed thoughts of Tracy, Amber, and all those new worries out of his mind and leaned forward to start his car. The Miss Teenage Hairspray pageant was almost there and he'd get to do his thing for the agents Mrs. Von Tussle had invited. He was days away from his big break; and that was what mattered right now.

Holding onto that thought, he managed to find some of his former calm. Ignoring the twinges of regret he felt from somewhere deep within, he turned his car toward home and drove off into the night.