The music pulsed through the mirrored studio like a heartbeat - steady, loud, undeniable.
Mia stood front and center, Camila on her left, both of them waiting in poised stillness as the beat dropped. Behind them, Marisol, Sarah, Nandita, and LaTasha were spread out in a V-formation, poised to explode into motion.
And in the very back - grinning, underqualified, and absolutely loving it - were the boys.
Ravi. Tyrel. Jorge. And Bharath.
Their official role? "Energetic background support with coordinated gestures.”
Their actual role? “We get to watch our girlfriends dance like goddesses from the best seat in the house.”
“I still think we’re being objectified,” Ravi muttered as he waved a plastic diya prop in sync with the music.
“Objectify all day if it ans I get to stare at Camila’s hips moving like that,” Jorge said reverently.
“Just wave the scarf, fool,” Tyrel muttered. “And keep your mouth closed so you don’t drool.”
Mia could barely suppress a smile as she twirled forward in perfect sync with Camila. Their duet - a mirrored sequence of swirling turns, crisp shoulder rolls, and playful snaps - was the centerpiece of the performance. They moved like they'd been practicing for weeks, though in reality, they'd only been given the spotlight three days ago.
Camila was fluid and fierce.
Mia was electric.
By the ti the first verse ended, the background boys had circled them as choreographed, “worshipping” with exaggerated hand waves and minimal footwork. The girls passed through their formation like fire weaving through trees.
Marisol, all grace and command, hit every mark behind Mia. Sarah moved with precise power, her hair tied up, her steps sharp. Nandita was effortlessly elegant, and LaTasha brought a wild, bouncy energy that sohow tied the whole thing together.
When the music faded, the room exploded into claps - mostly from the boys, who were panting even though their movents were a third as demanding.
“That was the one,” Sarah said, wiping sweat from her forehead.
“Best run yet,” Camila agreed, high-fiving Mia.
“I’m obsessed with us,” LaTasha grinned.
“And I officially resign from the background dancer union,” Tyrel announced. “My ankles were not built for side steps.”
Ravi collapsed onto a bench. “I barely moved, and I still feel exhausted.”
“Hermano, you were spectating,” Jorge said, laughing.
“Spectating with passion. That takes effort!” Ravi shot back.
Nandita crossed her arms, eyes shining. “No complaints. You boys are exactly what we need - charming, harmless distractions who made the rest of us look amazing.”
“Harmless is a stretch,” Sarah said, glancing toward Bharath, who’d barely taken his eyes off her the whole routine.
Mia caught the look and smirked.
He winked at her.
She stuck her tongue out in return.
Camila turned to Mia as they stepped off the main floor. “You were amazing today. Like main-character amazing.”
Mia flushed with pride. “You too. We crushed that.”
“Final performance energy,” Sarah said. “And we still have two days.”
Marisol nodded. “Which ans it’s costu ti.”
Nandita perked up. “I’ve already got the bindis and bangles sorted. You girls just need the blouses and skirts prepped.”
“LaTasha and I will get the accessories packed tonight,” Camila added.
“We’ll bring the fabric and cut patterns to Maria’s,” Marisol said, already in organizer mode. “She can help stitch them up. And Mia and I will stay to help her finish everything.”
“I’ll help too,” Mia said quickly. “Mami likes when I’m useful.”
“She’ll respect these routines,” Marisol said. “And if we hand her finished plans, she’ll sew until her fingers cramp.”
Bharath stepped forward, handing Sarah a water bottle. “You want to co with you?”
“Nope,” Marisol said, grinning. “Girls only. You’re too distracting.”
Bharath raised a brow. “I was a background dancer, thank you very much.”
“And you still managed to look like a tortured poet who fell in love with your backup singers,” Mia teased.
“Because I did,” he said shalessly.
They all laughed.
The group lingered a while longer, stretching, reviewing notes, and snapping silly photos with their props on Camila’s new cara. Mia found herself sitting beside Marisol on the floor, cross-legged, sweat still clinging to her back, adrenaline buzzing in her veins.
“You’re really proud of this, huh?” Mia asked.
Marisol looked over at her and smiled. “I am. We’re building sothing real here. For Diwali. For us.”
“I’m proud of too,” Mia said softly. “This feels like… a new version of . One I actually like.”
Marisol bumped her shoulder. “That version was always there. You’re just letting her out.”
They all packed up their bags. Mia’s was heavier now - filled with costu fabric, beadwork swatches, and a checklist she’d scribbled on the back of Sarah’s extra choreography sheet.
As they walked to the cars in pairs, Bharath slid beside Mia and touched her elbow gently. “You really were the star tonight.”
She smiled at him, genuinely warm. “You an it?”
“I wouldn’t lie to my lead dancer.”
Mia bead.
“Besides,” he added, lowering his voice as Marisol and Sarah stepped ahead, “I saw you glancing at the mirror. You know exactly what you were doing.”
Mia grinned, playful again. “Maybe. But it helps when you’re watching like I invented gravity.”
He blushed.
She leaned in, whispering, “Now let’s go impress my mother with spreadsheets and sewing kits.”
And just like that, the music in Mia’s head didn’t stop when the studio lights dimd.
It followed her ho.
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