She stood outside, shivering from lack of warm clothing in a huddle of blonde waifs who were used to the lack of fabric. The only exceptions, other than the girl herself, seeing as she was a petite brunette with a look of both fear and ferocity in her eyes, were a boy who was trying to give her his warmth and a snide-looking instructor yelling out orders to both the "JV" and "Varsity" teams. The girl wrapped in the boy was then brought to this woman's attention, and she yelled as loud and as hard as she could, but he would not let go.

The boy was adorable and nothing like anything the girl wanted. He was short, brunette, an actor, and above all, uncertain of himself. He was all at once both nothing that she would want and everything that she needed, no matter how cliche that may sound. They could talk for hours and never tire of each other's company. Because both of them were extremely charismatic, they could pretty much get away with anything in public. They were known to have candy fights as well as lay on the floors of public establishments, with no reprimands other than a patron's judging eye. Though she still couldn't quite figure out what their relationship was, romantic or simply a strong friendship, she and the other spectators admired his gaul for disobeying the wishes of this cold instructor. He was perfect for her, but even she knew nothing could happen between the two. The stars would never align.

She didn't remember trying out, or auditioning, for whatever this performance was. This was something that she would not have wanted to be a part of, if she had had a choice. She wasn't a dancer. She couldn't imagine doing...this...in front of people. She wasn't at all a shy person, or even one that had multiple inhibitions, but this was crossing the line.

The cruel instructor was a tall blonde who looked like all she had feasted on were souls for years - souls were only emotionally satisfying. Once this awful woman saw the girl wrapped in the kind boy's embrace, she wouldn't have it. Because no one loved her and her unkind face, even platonically, she wouldn't tolerate and act of kindness within her vicinity. She went so far as to bribe the two to never see each other again. The girl was horrified by the idea, and wouldn't even let the $4,100 get to her. Of course she needed the money, she was a teenager with an addiction to shoes, but this boy was worth much more to her. She remembered that he had been there for her through ups and downs, sharing broken curfews and too many plates of fried rice.

Though there was nothing romantic about their relationship worth noting, the girl couldn't help but feel a pang of want when he refused the substantial amount of money being offered to him. Once the sum was upped, and she could sense the indecision in his eyes, that pang went away. There was some tear in his soul, and he didn't exactly know who or what he wanted yet. He obviously had some sort of penchant for this girl, and she certainly meant something more to him than any of the other, more important, beautiful women around him. But this money intrigued him, and he almost found it necessary.

He thought of her. No. The money meant nothing. Green paper. Silver coins. He thought of her again. How could be impress her with the little amount of money he had? But she wouldn't be there to impress if he took the money. But another girl would be. He thought of her. Her. The girl that all of his friends admired, the talents and interests that they shared were indispensable. The memories that she ignited in him, the sparks he felt when they touched. She was far more important than anyone or anything else. ...Right?

Though he didn't take the money, their relationship wasn't the same when she got into his car and he drove her home through the snow.





Then she woke, and told the boy about her dream. He assured her that she was worth more, though he did ask how much money he was offered.