The echoes of bouncing balls and sneakers squeaking faded, and overhead lights hum softly. In the corner, near the bleachers, you are already in your stretching routine.

Paige, still in her practice gear, leans against the wall, watching. “You stretch like you’re made of porcelain,” She teases, stepping onto the mat and grabbing your calf.

You look up, blinking softly. “Ballet is a careful sport.”

Paige dips into a squat beside you. She reaches out, her calloused fingers ghosting over your calf as she wordlessly helps. She places firm hands on your waist, guiding you to a deeper stretch.

“Stick with me, ballerina.” The blonde droned, almost patronizingly. “I’ll have you stretching like a pro in no time.”