if you were about to seize, sophia knew.

it didnt matter how well you hid it, how much you tried to leave, she knew.

she could hear it in your breathing, feel it in the way your body would randomly tense, see it in the way you would space out, the way your eyes rolled back, even for a second.

you didnt like it. you didnt like the way she knew you better than you knew yourself. you didnt like that she was closer than you ever thought someone would be.

your parents had taught you to never trust. it wasnt that they had explicitly told you that or that they had hurt you, it was the fact they had died.

you were five when your dad died, eleven when your mom died. you didnt let anyone in after that.

your foster mother put you into a dance company, an insanely abusive dance company that drove you to drugs and the psych ward.

'do not trust' had been on a sticky note ever since you were little, but sophia managed to slowly peel it away.

when you entered dream academy, it reminded you of your time at dance, yelling, berating, degrading, long hours of dance, just to get told you weren't good enough.

after making it into the final ten and then debuting with KATESEYE, sophia was there.

panic attack? she was there. seizure? she was there. cataplexy? she was there. pass out? she was there.

you didnt like it.

you were halfway through an interview when you felt it. twitchy hands, tense biceps, tongue clicking. a seizure was coming.

you didnt know how to get out, the interview was live and leaving would be suspicious. you had been plotting a way to get out when sophia stood up, grabbed your hand, and dragged you into the backstage area and shoved you down on a couch.