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God, it’s too much… It’s so unexpected and powerful and…
My lungs collapse.
I feel my chest start to wheeze as my breathing comes undone.
Oh, no.
A familiar overwhelming infiltrates me—the lights, the crowd, the heat…him.
It’s him.
Brant is here.
How can he be here?
A stampede of emotion tramples through me as my knees wobble and my lungs fight for satisfying breaths. Brant’s look of awe slips away, replaced with worry.
“Whoa…are you okay?” He steps closer to me, his palm cupping my cheek. “June.”
I’m nodding even though I can’t breathe.
“Shit,” Celeste says, jumping into action and snatching my purse tucked beneath the beauty counter. She pops my inhaler into my hand. “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
“No, I–I’m…o-okay…” I take a few puffs on the inhaler, closing my eyes as the medicine eases the tightness in my chest. I feel Brant’s hands brush up and down my arms, languid and firm. A calmness seeps inside, and my frenzy morphs into a slew of hot tears biting at my eyelids. “Brant,” I squeak out, my eyes fluttering back open. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
His brow is creased with unmistakable concern. He squeezes my upper arms, swallowing hard. “I’m here.”
Celeste rubs my back, then whispers into my ear. “Go get some air. We still have a few minutes.”
I nod.
Brant guides me through the dancers to the backstage door that leads outside, and the moment we step into the muggy August air I launch myself into his arms, my airways finally stretching with reprieve. The chaos in my chest dissipates and all I’m left with is profound relief.
I try to keep my tears from falling so I don’t ruin my makeup but they slip out anyway. They dampen his shirt, ivory like his soap, and I feel two steadfast arms wrap around me, his palms sliding up and down the center of my back.
One of his hands moves around to my front and lands against my chest, his fingers splaying over my ribs like he’s trying to soothe my faulty lungs. “Don’t cry, Junebug,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss my hair. “You scared me.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, sniffling. “It was just a shock.”
When I pull back slightly, my eyes lift to his, catching the sentiment glowing back at me. Feeling him in my arms, inhaling his scent, watching his expression flicker and burn has my mind spinning and loopy. I squeeze his shoulders to steady myself, still not convinced I won’t topple.
“God…let me look at you.” Brant inches back farther and takes my chin between his thumb and fingers. His gaze rakes over me, remnants of worry lingering from my brush with asthma.
“Don’t,” I beg. New tears rush out of me as I shake my head. “I’m a zebra.”
His lips finally quirk into a smile. “You’re a dream.”
“A nightmare, honestly.” I sniff. “What are you doing here?”
He steps back more, his hands finding their way into the pockets of his dark slacks. The streetlight casts a yellowy warmth upon him, highlighting the bronze flecks in his hair. Two earthy eyes find mine, glinting with more than he can say right now. “It’s a long story, but maybe we can grab a drink and talk after the show?”
How did you find me?
How long will you be in town?
Do you still love me?
My mind races with questions but I simply nod, knowing I’m running out of time. I have a performance to finish. I have a small role in the acclaimed Lion King, and that’s no small feat for a newer dancer like me.
