𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐘𝐍

Who am I?

Call me Hush!! I’m an 18 yr old writer with an unhealthy obsession with polka dots and making up scenarios!

What do I do?

I write! The things that are primarily x-readers, or ships between two characters (though mostly x-readers, I’ll keep it a stack). And smut. Teehee. I try to make all of my x-readers as androgynous and neutral as possible to allow for any race, gender, and body type to read!

Who do you write for?

MHA, JJK, Twisted Wonderland, Demon Slayer, & Gachiakuta! (TWST holds a special lil place in my heart, though!)

Wills and Won’ts?

WILL WRITE: X-Readers, CharXChar, Drabbles, Headcanons, Scenarios, Angst, Fluff, & Smut!! *All smut will be under the “Hush’s rumors” tag

WON’T WRITE: Age-gaps and/or pedophilia, incest, watersports or any bodily excretions, feet, non-con, drug addiction, suicide, ED’s, dead dove in general, OC x Character.

Rules?

Be polite, gossip always, and have fun! ☆彡

𝙏𝘼𝙇𝘼 — a girl attending MSA, an overachiever girl, but she thrives on the stage, acting her heart away.

𝙈𝙊𝙊𝙎𝙀 — a boy attending MSA, tech-savvy type of guy, but he shines the most when it comes to dancing.

a perfectionist actress meets a layback dancer.

available on wattpad too- @/whodafukisu

MAIN MASTERLIST

author: there are barely Moose fanfic, so i thought why not? let’s just hope i actually keep up with this one.

MASTERLIST

0.1 –𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣

0.2 –𝙪𝙜𝙝, 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣

0.3 –𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙬

0.4 –𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

0.5 –𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙪𝙥

0.6 –𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

0.7 –𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮

0.8 –𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairings: Moose x Tala (OC)

summary: “we were supposed to have a summer”

genre: fluff; angst

series; wc: 4.5k

main masterlist series masterlist

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗗𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗗 to black as the last note of the score played, the final spotlight resting on Tala. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding in rhythm with the thunderous applause erupting from the audience. She took one last graceful bow, her eyes scanning the crowd—until she saw 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣.

Her crew.

Smiles, Cable, Hair, Monster, Chase, Kido, Andie, and Fly. Her 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆. Her heart swelled at the sight of them clapping and cheering, some even standing up. Andie had tears in her eyes. Kido was practically bouncing in place. Tala couldn’t help the wide, tearful smile that stretched across her face as the curtain finally dropped.

It was over.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝘪𝘵．

Despite everything — the scandal, the betrayal, the pain of being kicked off the play — she had made it back. She had taken center stage. And she’d owned it.

The cast behind her erupted in a chorus of relieved laughter and cheers. Costumes rustled, makeup smudged with sweat, and hugs were passed around like candy. Everyone was ecstatic.

Well, almost everyone.

Tala kept her smile fixed in place even as James, her co-star — and the guy who’d snitched on her for performing at The Streets — was showered with praise from oblivious classmates. No one knew what he had done. No one cared that she had to grit her teeth and pretend to fall in love with him on stage, her lines feeling like knives in her throat.

She endured it. For the stage. For the 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺.

Now, it was over.

Her eyes drifted upward to the light booth. She knew he’d be there. Her light.

“Tal!” a familiar voice shouted from behind the curtain. Moose.

She turned around just as he came running down the stairs from the lighting panel, a little out of breath, still wearing his tech headset around his neck.

“Moose,” she breathed, relief washing over her as they collided into a tight embrace.

They held onto each other like anchors in a storm, both of them savoring this moment—this victory.

“You did it, baby,” Moose whispered, cupping her cheeks and looking into her eyes like she was the only thing that mattered.

“𝗪𝗲 did it,” Tala replied, fingers curling around his wrists, grounding herself in his warmth.

They leaned in, breath mingling, the moment perfect—

“𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗚𝗼𝗻𝘇𝗮𝗹𝗲𝘇”

The voice cut through like a record scratch. Tala turned around reluctantly, quickly straightening when she recognized Director Collins — and a small group of sharply dressed adults beside him.

“Sir,” she said politely, glancing between the unfamiliar faces.

“This is the girl I was telling you about,” Collins said proudly. “Tala Gonzalez. Top actress of the school.”

One of the women stepped forward, offering a professional smile. “Ah, so you’re the 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙮. I’m one of the representatives from Juilliard. Your performance tonight was absolutely outstanding.”

Tala’s heart stopped.

𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱.

She blinked, barely processing the words. Moose nudged her gently, smiling down at her to bring her back to Earth.

“Hi. Yes, I’m Tala,” she said quickly, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the woman replied. “Juilliard would be honored to have you this fall—if you’d have us.”

Tala’s mouth dropped open. “What? Really?” Her hands flew to her face, eyes wide in disbelief.

The group chuckled warmly at her reaction.

“Yes, really,” the representative said.

“Oh my God,” Tala gasped. “I would love to!!”

“Perfect. We’ll be in touch very soon.”

The group began to walk off, Director Collins giving her a proud nod. “Proud of you, Tala,” he said, then followed after them.

Tala stood frozen, stunned.

“TAL, THIS IS GROUNDBREAKING!” Moose yelled, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around in sheer joy.

She laughed, arms tight around his neck as he turned them in circles.

When he finally set her down, she stared up at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t believe this. Moose…𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹.”

He nodded, eyes soft and gleaming. “You made it, Tal.”

She leaned her forehead against his. “We made it.”

From the side of the stage, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey! Superstar! You coming or what?” Andie’s voice echoed, playful and full of love.

Tala turned and saw the rest of the MSA crew waiting by the stage door, clapping and waving her over.

Chase raised a fist in the air, Cable and Smiles were giving each other chest bumps, and Kido looked like she was going to explode from excitement. Fly grinned wide, arms crossed proudly.

Tala looked at Moose. “Let’s go.”

Still hand in hand, they walked to the crew who pulled her into a massive group hug the second she arrived.

“You killed it!” “You were a beast out there!” “That final scene? Tony-worthy!” The praise came from every direction.

Andie stepped back to get a good look at her. “𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗮 𝗚𝗼𝗻𝘇𝗮𝗹𝗲𝘇. 𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱. Damn, that has a nice ring to it.”

“From rebel dancer to stage queen,” Monster grinned.

Tala wiped a tear away and laughed. “You guys, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Fly shook her head. “Nah, girl. You did this even while pretending to love James. If that’s not award-worthy acting, I don’t know what is.”

They all burst into laughter again.

As the night air cooled outside the theater, they stepped out together, Tala still holding Moose’s hand like it was the lifeline to the dream she had just grabbed.

Moose leaned close and whispered, “Tonight’s yours, Tal. But it’s only the beginning.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing.

“Yeah,” she whispered back. “𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴”

𓆩❀𓆪

Later that night, the neon lights of 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘱𝘰𝘵 pulsed like a heartbeat, it wasn’t much from the outside — but inside, it was everything.

Graffiti-tagged walls. Cracked leather booths. Colored spotlights dancing over a hardwood floor that had seen generations of underground dancers. This place wasn’t just a bar. It was history. A sanctuary for movers, artists, dreamers.

The MSA crew took over a booth near the back, crowding around a table already loaded with fries, wings, mocktails, and celebratory milkshakes courtesy of Smiles, who proudly announced, “The bartender still remembers when I brokedance-battled a dude on top of the bar for a free tab.”

“You fell off the bar,” Cable reminded him.

“And still got free drinks,” Smiles countered, tossing a fry at him.

Tala sat nestled between Andie and Moose, still in partial costume, her curls pulled back and her cheeks flushed with a post-show glow. She couldn’t stop smiling—even now, hours later.

Chase raised his glass. “To Tala. Our girl made it to Juilliard. She fought through all of it — James, Collins, the streets — and still owned the damn stage.”

Everyone lifted their glasses in agreement. “To Tala!”

Tala laughed, cheeks pink. “You guys are seriously too much.”

“No, you deserve it,” Andie said, nudging her. “We all watched you get kicked down and come back harder. That takes guts.”

“Also,” Monster added, “let’s never forget that she had to fake romance with the guy who snitched on us.”

Tala groaned. “Why do we keep bringing that up?”

“Because it’s tragic and hilarious,” Fly smirked. “You were serving full Shakespeare with a guy who couldn’t even pass drama class without bribing the teacher.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Moose leaned into Tala’s ear. “You were still magnetic. Even I had to pretend not to get jealous watching you onstage.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand beneath the table. “Good. I was pretending you were in the scene the whole time.”

Moose grinned like a boy with a secret. “Guess that makes me your offstage leading man.”

She bumped his shoulder. “𝘼𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨.”

The music changed, a slow, smooth beat taking over the speakers. Hair, already loosening up, stood and offered Fly his hand. “Shall we?”

Fly smirked and took it. “Only if you’re ready to be shown up.”

They headed to the dance floor, followed quickly by Monster and Smiles, who launched into a goofy freestyle that had the bar patrons clapping and laughing along.

Tala sat back, watching them all move—her people, her world.

Andie leaned across the table. “Feels kinda full-circle, doesn’t it?”

Tala nodded. “Yeah. The first time I came here, I didn’t know where I belonged. Now… it feels like home.”

Andie smiled. “It is home.”

Just then, Moose stood and held out his hand. “Come on, superstar. Let’s dance. 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧”

Tala laughed and took his hand, letting him pull her up and guide her to the floor. The music shifted into a mellow groove, and Moose spun her around with ease, his moves sharp but effortless.

They danced as if the world had faded away—just the two of them, hearts beating in time with the rhythm.

𓆩❀𓆪

The months after the musical blurred into golden memories.

With the weight of the performance behind them, and Tala’s Juilliard acceptance lighting the path ahead, life at MSA took on a strange, beautiful glow. The kind of glow you don’t realize is fading until it’s gone.

And the MSA crew? They were inseparable.

Every spare moment — between classes, during lunch, after rehearsals — was spent together. They were a unit. A family. And nowhere was that bond stronger than between Tala and Moose.

They were in that soft, rare kind of phase where time feels like it’s slowing down just for you.

In the mornings, Moose would wait for Tala at the front steps of MSA, coffee in one hand, her favorite donut in the other. She’d greet him with a sleepy smile and a kiss on the cheek before tucking her arm into his, walking through the doors like they owned the place.

After school, they’d either hang out with the crew in the studio, dancing just for the love of it, or escape to the quiet rooftops of the city, legs dangling over the edge, talking about everything and nothing.

Some nights, she’d fall asleep at his place — curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, her head on his chest while an old movie played in the background. Other nights, he’d stay at hers, helping her study for finals or running lines for a film elective she’d picked up out of curiosity.

It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t some whirlwind romance. It was real.

They didn’t just fall in love. They built love.

The MSA crew thrived alongside them. Late-night rehearsals turned into open mic nights at The Beat Spot. Andie and Chase started choreographing their own showcase. Fly and Kido launched a dance blog that was gaining traction. Hair and Cable started DJing on weekends, and Smiles and Monster somehow got cast in a student film after auditioning on a dare.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was alive.

And then…𝙞𝙩 came.

𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

The day was bright, a rare, perfect-blue-sky day in Maryland. The MSA field had been transformed—rows of chairs, a makeshift stage, and the sound of proud families buzzing around like bees.

Tala adjusted her graduation cap for the tenth time, standing beside Moose in her red robe, white cords swinging at her sides. Her heart raced in a way that felt different than performance nerves. This was real. This was it.

“We actually made it,” Moose said, slipping his fingers into hers.

“I know,” she whispered. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”

The entire MSA crew sat in the same row, lined up in cap and gown. When Tala’s name was called—“Tala Gonzalez, 𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣, Juilliard School of Drama”—the entire row stood up and whooped, making everyone else laugh and clap harder. She walked the stage beaming, trying not to cry, clutching her diploma like it was a lifeline.

When Moose’s name was called—“Robert Alexander III, MSA Honors Graduate”—she stood up and screamed loudest of all.

Later, as caps soared into the air, Tala turned and found Moose in the crowd. He reached her first, lifting her into the air and spinning her around like he did the night of the musical.

“You’re officially unstoppable,” he grinned as he set her down.

She looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears, voice soft. “So are you.”

Behind them, the crew shouted and danced, already turning the courtyard into a party of their own. Smiles had brought a portable speaker. Fly had a mini confetti cannon. It was pure chaos.

Tala looked around at them—at her family—and then back at Moose.

“Promise me this isn’t the end,” she said.

Moose leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. “It’s not.”

𓆩❀𓆪

It was late, and the rooftop was quiet.

The city stretched out below them, scattered with lights that blinked like distant fireflies. Summer had started to settle in the air, warm and still, wrapping the night in a calm that made the world feel slower—gentler.

Tala sat cross-legged on an old blanket, a bowl of cherries between her and Moose. He was lying on his back beside her, one arm folded behind his head, the other lazily tossing a cherry stem into the air.

They had been quiet for a while. Not because they had nothing to say—but because sometimes silence between them felt just as full as words.

Tala glanced down at him, the moonlight catching the curve of his jaw, the messy curls she always teased him about, the subtle way his fingers tapped a beat even when he didn’t realize it.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the quiet.

Moose turned his head toward her. “Yeah?”

She hesitated for a second, then asked, “Have you thought about what you want to do after this? Like… after high school?”

Moose was quiet. He looked up at the stars for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “I mean… sometimes. Not really sure yet.”

Tala nodded slowly, trying not to show how that answer made her chest tighten. “Not even a little idea?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Everything’s been moving so fast—I haven’t really stopped to figure it out.”

Tala forced a smile. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

She looked away, pretending to focus on the skyline. But deep down, a quiet ache began to grow.

She wanted to tell him. That she was scared to go to New York without him. That Juilliard was her dream, yes—but he had become part of that dream too. That when she pictured the city lights, she didn’t just see stages and spotlights.

She saw him.

But she didn’t say any of it.

Instead, she plucked a cherry from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, nodding again like she was okay. Like she understood.

Because she did understand.

She just wished it didn’t hurt so much.

“You’ll figure it out,” she said finally, her voice calm. “You always do.”

Moose looked over at her again, his expression softening. He reached out and laced his fingers through hers.

“You okay?”

She smiled, eyes on their joined hands. “Yeah,” she lied gently. “I’m okay.”

And for now, that was enough.

They sat there in the quiet again, the world humming around them, both thinking about a future neither of them could quite see clearly—but silently hoping they’d still be in it together.

𓆩❀𓆪

The Maryland air was thick and warm, the kind of late July heat that stuck to your skin even after sunset. The city lights blinked lazily in the distance as crickets sang below. Tala sat alone on the rooftop, legs pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees.

She clutched the Juilliard letter in her lap, already crumpled at the corners from rereading it over and over again.

Early admission. One month ahead. Report next week.

It should’ve felt like a dream coming true. But all she could think about was how to tell Moose.

She had texted him just twenty minutes earlier:

“𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘰𝘱? 𝘕𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬”

Now, she heard the familiar creak of the rooftop door, followed by the shuffle of sneakers. She didn’t turn right away.

“Tala?” Moose’s voice was easy, familiar, warm. “You okay?”

She looked up at him, trying to smile. “Hey.”

He crossed the rooftop quickly, crouching in front of her. “What’s going on? You sounded serious.”

Tala hesitated, looking at her hands. Then, without a word, she handed him the letter.

Moose took it, eyes scanning the page, his brow furrowing for a moment—before his face lit up. “Early admission?” he grinned. “Wait, this is amazing! Tala, this is—this is huge! You got in early? That’s like—”

“I have to leave next week.”

The words hit like a quiet bomb.

Moose blinked. “Oh.”

She nodded slowly. “They want me there by the first. I’d be in the summer intensive program before the semester starts.”

He looked down at the letter again, then back at her. “Still, this is incredible. You’ve gotta go, Tal. This is exactly what you’ve worked for.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“But…” He paused. “Why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”

Tala’s eyes filled before she could stop them. “Because we had all these plans.”

Moose frowned. “Tala…”

“We were supposed to go to that music festival. Hit every diner in the city. Dance on that stupid subway platform like idiots. 𝙒𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧.”

“Tal, we can still have a summer. Just a shorter one. One week is still time—”

“It’s not the same,” she said, voice breaking.

Moose stepped closer, concern etched in his face. “Hey, hey… don’t do this. Don’t let this ruin it.”

But she shook her head. “I’ve been thinking about not going.”

“What?” he said quickly, confused. “Why?”

“Because…” she said, finally looking him in the eyes. “Because I don’t want to leave 𝘆𝗼𝘂.”

His breath caught.

“I know it sounds stupid. I know this is everything I’ve wanted. But the idea of going there, and you not being with me, and everything changing overnight—it 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨 the hell out of me.”

“Tala…”

“I don’t want to do long distance,” she blurted. “I don’t even know how to. What if we grow apart? What if we 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠?”

Moose stood frozen for a moment, the excitement drained from his face. “So what are you saying?”

She looked down. “I’m saying… if I go, maybe that means…𝘄𝗲’𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿.”

The silence between them grew heavy, like it might crack the sky.

Moose’s voice dropped. “You think leaving means we just…𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳?”

“I don’t know what else to think,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m terrified I’ll lose you.”

Moose stepped back, stunned. “So… instead of trusting what we have, you’d just throw it away?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” she said quickly.

“Then what 𝗮𝗿𝗲 you doing, Tala? Because right now it sounds like you’re walking away before either of us has even tried.”

“I’m 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙, Moose!” she cried. “I’m scared I won’t be able to handle missing you. I don’t want to feel like I’m out there alone while you’re back here, and everything starts to fade.”

Moose didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched, his hands falling to his sides.

Tears welled up in Tala’s eyes, and for a moment, neither of them could look at the other. Then her phone buzzed on the rooftop floor.

She picked it up, glanced at the screen.

𝘋𝘢𝘥.

She wiped her eyes. “I have to go.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Just leaned in and pressed a quick, trembling kiss to Moose’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

And then she was gone.

Moose stood still, the letter still in his hands.

The rooftop door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone in the warm, humming silence.

He sat down slowly, his back against the wall where she had been minutes ago. His eyes burned, but he didn’t wipe the tears away.

He just let them fall.

𓆩❀𓆪

The door slammed gently behind Tala as she entered the apartment, her vision blurry with tears. Her chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid. Her father looked up from the couch, worry already in his eyes.

“Tala?” he asked, standing.

She didn’t answer — just dropped her bag by the door and walked straight into his arms.

He held her tightly without a word. Her shoulders trembled against his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. For a long time, they stood like that, just breathing.

“I don’t know what to do,” she choked out eventually. “i never thought it would come to this.”

Her dad smoothed her hair, resting his chin on her head. “You didn’t know.”

“I don’t want to choose between him and my dream,” she whispered. “But it feels like I just lost both.”

“No,” he said gently, pulling back to look at her. “You’re not losing anything. You’re growing. That kind of change feels like loss… but sometimes it’s just making room for what’s next.”

She didn’t answer, just nodded faintly, exhausted and broken in ways she couldn’t name.

𝗔 𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥

Tala stood near the gate, her carry-on at her feet and her Juilliard folder clutched to her chest. Her hair was tied back, face bare, heart quiet. She was dressed comfortably but there was a seriousness to her, a calm forged in the fire of the past week.

One by one, her friends from the MSA crew arrived — Smiles with a handmade card, Cable with snacks she definitely wouldn’t eat on the plane, Hair giving her a half-hug, half-shove that made her laugh for the first time in days. Kido had drawn a cartoon version of them all on a scrap of napkin and taped it to her bag.

Andie and Chase arrived last, pulling her into a long, quiet hug that 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵.

She felt the warmth of all of them, the support, the love—and yet, she couldn’t help scanning the crowd.

Looking for 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

𝗪𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴.

𝗛𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴.

But the minutes passed. Her boarding group was called.

Still 𝗻𝗼 Moose.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧.

She hugged her friends one last time, holding tighter than she probably should’ve. Her eyes stung, but she didn’t cry. Not this time. She was out of tears.

As she handed over her ticket and walked down the jet bridge, the hum of the plane grew louder, swallowing her old world behind her.

She paused at the end of the walkway, just before stepping onto the aircraft. Her chest tightened—but she kept going.

As she found her seat and placed her bag under the chair in front of her, she stared out the window, watching the tarmac blur in the rising heat.

𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥．

She rested her head against the cool glass, closed her eyes, and let herself breathe.

This was happening.

New York. Juilliard. A dream unfolding.

Even if her heart wasn’t fully ready, her feet kept moving forward.

Because sometimes…

𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙜 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙.

𓆩❀𓆪

Moose’s heart was pounding as he raced through the Maryland airport, weaving between people with his backpack slung over one shoulder, the laces of his sneakers half-tied. He checked the gate number scribbled on his hand again—𝗕-𝟮𝟳.

He should’ve come earlier. He should’ve answered her calls. He should’ve said something then, when she was standing in front of him with her heart in her hands.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵.

And now he was running, praying for one last chance.

The terminal opened in front of him—and there it was.

𝗕𝟮𝟳.

𝙀𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙮.

He looked out the massive pane of glass just in time to see the plane taxiing back from the gate, slowly rolling toward the runway.

There she was. Row 16, window seat.

𝙏𝙖𝙡𝙖.

She was staring out, her eyes unfocused, face calm but unreadable. Maybe she felt it. Maybe she didn’t.

He stepped toward the window, breath catching, hand resting on the glass like it could somehow reach her.

But she didn’t look up.

The plane picked up speed. And then—it lifted.

Higher, higher—until it disappeared into the golden-blue sky of late July.

He stood there, frozen.

He had so many things he wanted to say.

Too many.

And now none of them mattered.

Moose stood by the window long after the plane had disappeared into the horizon.

He hadn’t moved. Barely blinked.

The terminal had grown quieter, echoing with the sound of rolling luggage and the distant chatter of airport announcements. But in Moose’s world, everything had gone still.

Until he heard it—sneakers scuffing against tile. A voice.

“Moose!”

He turned, slowly.

The crew was there. Andie, Chase, Fly, Monster, Kido, Hair, Cable, Smiles—all of them, slightly out of breath, clearly having rushed in behind him.

Andie stepped forward first. “We saw your texts. Tried to catch you before you ran out.”

“You just missed her, huh?” Chase asked quietly.

Moose didn’t answer. He just gave the faintest nod.

Fly looked at him with her usual sharp honesty. “You tried, man.”

“I should’ve said something sooner,” he murmured, eyes still on the tarmac. “She was right there. I let her go.”

“No,” Andie said firmly, stepping beside him. “She had to go. You both did what you thought was right. And that’s what makes this hard.”

Moose swallowed hard, his fingers curling into his hoodie pocket. “She thought this meant we were over.”

Kido leaned against the railing beside him. “You know what I think? If she really meant that, she wouldn’t still be looking for you on that plane.”

He turned.

“She was,” Smiles said quietly. “We saw her. She kept looking at the gate until the doors closed.”

Moose closed his eyes for a moment, letting the ache in his chest speak. “Why does this hurt so much?”

“Because you love her,” Chase said simply. “And sometimes love means letting someone go do the thing they’re meant for.”

“And it doesn’t mean it’s the end,” Andie added. “Just… the end of this chapter.”

Silence settled over them again. Not awkward—just honest.

Moose stared at the sky a long time.

Then he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“𝙄 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣.”

authors note:

that's the end of step up 2, also im sorry for the late update, school has been hell, risking to loose this year because of one damn subject.

pairings: Moose x Tala (OC)

summary: “come here, son”

genre: fluff

series; wc: 1.9k

main masterlist series masterlist

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 fundraiser gala sparkled with chandeliers and the shimmer of gowns. Classical music danced through the air, soft and hollow, drowned beneath the clink of crystal glasses and the distant murmur of polite conversation. It was a night meant for celebration — for a new building, a new school, a 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 for Maryland.

But for the MSA crew, it felt like something else entirely.

Monster, Smiles, Cable, and Hair weaved through the room, expertly balancing trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne. They didn’t speak to each other, not more than a glance. The way they passed one another in silence said it all: they weren’t here together, not like before.

Fly stood at the entrance, her usual energy dialed down to quiet professionalism as she checked off names, nodded to donors, and kept a close eye on who came and went.

Kido was moving through the chaos like a ghost in command. Everything — every food, light drink, decorations — was under her jurisdiction tonight. No one questioned her. They didn’t have time to.

Upstairs, in one of the upper halls, Chase stretched for the dance piece they were gonna perform later in the night. But his eyes kept drifting downward, toward the others. His friends. Or former friends. It was hard to say now.

𓆩❀𓆪

Backstage, in the dressing rooms, Tala stood with a handful of bobby pins clenched between her lips, focused as she finished pinning up a dancer’s bun.

“Hey,” came a hesitant voice.

Tala barely glanced at Sophie. “Mm?” she hummed, noncommittal.

“I’m sorry. About the play.”

Tala didn’t stop what she was doing, but her body tensed — the shift was subtle, but it was there.

“It’s all good,” she said coolly, waving off the dancer she’d finished. The girl thanked her and scurried off, leaving the room thick with tension.

“You deserved that role,” Sophie pressed.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Tala answered, biting down the bitterness.

“No. I mean it. I know we’ve been at each other’s throats since freshman year, but Juilliard is your dream, not mine. You should be up there tomorrow.”

Tala gave a tight smile. “Thanks. But it’s too late now.”

“I tried talking to Director Collins,” Sophie said quickly. “He wouldn’t listen.”

“Thanks, really. But it’s fine.” Her laugh was light — fake. “Theatre’s not my whole life.”

“But it is—”

“Leave it, Sophie.” Tala’s voice cracked like a whip, shutting it down.

She moved toward the exit, the walls suddenly too close, the air too tight.

“𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀.”

Tala froze, hand on the doorknob. “What?”

“James told Collins about the crew,” Sophie said. “I heard them, but… that’s how Collins knew.”

A spark lit in Tala’s chest — anger, betrayal. “Right,” she scoffed. “That dick.”

“Sorry.”

“Thanks, Sophie.” Her smile was sharp this time, all teeth. Then she left.

𓆩❀𓆪

The door to the sound booth flung open, nearly slamming against the wall.

Moose jumped, knocking over a half-filled soda.

“It was James.”

“What?”

“He told Collins about me. About us. Of course it was him.” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

“What the hell?” Moose stood up, jaw tight.

Before either could say another word, both their phones buzzed in unison.

𝟴𝗧𝗛 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧. 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧

They stared at each other.

The choreography, the sweat, the stolen rehearsals late at night — all of it had been for this moment. But everything had fallen apart before they got to see it through.

Moose rubbed his head, overwhelmed.

Then, another notification lit up their screens.

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗲: 𝗪𝗲’𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. 𝗕𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲.

They locked eyes. This time, it wasn’t sadness — it was fire.

“This is crazy,” Tala breathed, watching Moose gather his things.

“Well, that’s the crew.” He grinned.

Before they could move, the door burst open again — Director Collins, storming in with all the fury of a man betrayed.

“Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”

Tala hesitated, glancing at Moose “They’re at Streets,”

“The Streets.” His tone was dangerously calm.

“I have to stop this.”

“Wait,” Tala stepped forward. “You always tell us that dance is about having something to say, right?”

“Yes, but I never meant—”

“Well. I think a lot of people are 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 speaking up”

“I can’t just allow my students to participate in something illegal.”

“There’s a reason they’re there and not here,” Moose added.

Collins turned to him. “And you are?”

“I’m Robert Alexander III. But you can call me Moose.” He pointed at Tala. “I dance with her crew.”

“You dance?” Collins blinked, baffled.

“Damn right, I dance,” Moose said smugly. “I can take you to where they are.”

Collins turned to the door. “Okay, Goose. Let’s go.”

Tala snorted, barely containing her laugh.

“No, no, no — it’s Moose,” he corrected, half offended.

“Whatever,” Collins muttered, already gone.

Moose stood stunned for a beat.

“C’mon, Goose.” Tala clapped him on the shoulder. “Lead the way.”

“Don’t start.”

𓆩❀𓆪

The car ride was awkward—painfully so. Ten minutes felt like eternity, thick with tension.

When they finally parked, noise from inside the building drew their attention—bass-thumping, shouts, movement.

“This way.” Moose nodded, already moving.

Without thinking, Tala reached for his hand. He took it, squeezing gently as they ran, assuming Director Collins wasn’t far behind.

“Wait—” Director Collins said, as he had just got out of the car.

Inside, bodies packed the space wall-to-wall. They scanned the crowd, frantic.

“THERE!” Tala pointed, spotting Kido waving like crazy, jumping to be seen.

Moose led the charge, cutting through the crowd like it was nothing.

“And it shouldn’t matter what we wear,” Andie’s voice rose above the crowd, commanding. “What school or what neighbourhood we come from, because the best part about ‘The Streets’ is that its not about what you got, it’s what you make of what you got.”

The crowd erupted, the energy palpable, electric.

Tala glanced back—there, at the entrance, stood Director Collins. Watching. Something about his expression had shifted. It wasn’t anger. It was…pride?

Grinning, she elbowed Moose and nodded subtly toward him.

“He’s getting it,” Moose smirked, slipping his arm around her shoulders as they both turned back to Andie.

“So if the 410’s too scared to defend their title against us,” Andie challenged, “then hell—”

She scoffed, eyes blazing.

“We’ll be outside, doing our thing, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 ‘𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨’ 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙 ”

The room detonated with cheers, bodies moving as one toward the exit.

Outside, rain poured in sheets, cold and relentless. But no one cared. They came to dance—and they weren’t leaving until they did..

As the crowd gathered, Moose darted up to the light box. Then—blackout.

A beat.

The music dropped.

And chaos bloomed.

The choreography was explosive and raw, filled with — popping, krumping, hiphop, breakdancing and locking — each member carrying their own flavour and style, yet they moved as a unit. it was a sight to see.

They danced with attitude, defiance and passion. Igniting a fire within Director Collin’s.

𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩.

Every stomp, spin, and shout feels like breaking chains. They moved with wild freedom, their bodies spelling out truths they haven’t been allowed to say back at MSA.

As they lock eyes, as their feet pound in sync, the joy becomes something bigger than them: a shared heartbeat, a rebellion pulsing with hope.

It’s the kind of joy that rises from struggle—the joy of saying we’re still here, and you can’t silence us. It’s fierce. Beautiful. Untouchable.

And it was beautiful.

When the final note hit, the crew snapped into one last pose. Moose, arm outstretched, Tala tucked close against his chest—both breathless, grinning.

The crowd lost it.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵．

“WE DID IT!” Moose shouted, grabbing Tala into a euphoric hug.

“YES, WE DID!” she laughed, voice cracking with joy.

They held each other, hearts racing, thunder clapping above them. Maybe they’d get expelled tomorrow. Maybe not. Right now, only one thing mattered.

They danced.

They lived.

They pulled apart just enough to meet each other’s eyes. Their gazes dropped to each other’s lips, inching closer, smiles curling—

“Hey, Moose.”

They both froze, chuckling under their breath, as Director Collins appeared, smug and amused.

“Yeah, you,” he teased. Andie snorted from beside him.

“I think you might be in the wrong department,” Collins added with a raised brow.

Moose blinked, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“OH MY GOD!” Tala squealed, hugging and shaking him with excitement. “Are you serious?!”

Collins turned to her with that same smirk. “And you, Tala.”

“Oh, he’s having way too much fun interrupting them,” Missy muttered behind them, making the group laugh.

“Yeah, Sir?” Tala asked, still bouncing.

“You’ve got an early show tomorrow,” he said with a knowing smile.

“For real?” she breathed.

“For real.”

Tala shrieked, flinging herself into a hug that caught Collins completely off guard — again.

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!” she said, voice muffled in his coat.

“Make me proud,” he said gently, patting her back.

She grinned and ran to her crew, met with cheers and hugs and happy tears.

Collins straightened his coat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a little explaining to do with the fundraiser”

“Oh yeah,” Andie laughed.

As Collins walked off, Andie turned to Moose, smug.

“See? I told you we could help each other.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Moose replied, trying to hide his grin “Whatever.”

“‘Whatever,’” Andie mocked with a smirk.

They bumped fists.

Then she tilted her head behind him.

“Go get your girl.”

Moose turned. Tala was celebrating with the others, drenched in rain, glowing.

“Go get your man,” he shot back before striding toward her.

He grabbed her gently, spun her around—then 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 her. Fully, without hesitation.

The world fell away. All that was left was them.

The crew hooted and whistled before giving them space.

Their kiss deepened, every emotion they’d been too scared to say pouring out in a single, perfect moment.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, hearts thudding—

“Guess I’ll have to tell your dad I’m dating his daughter now,” Moose whispered, teasing.

Tala giggled, about to reply when—

“Yes. You do.”

They both turned.

Tala’s father stood there, rain streaking down his face, his expression soft with pride.

“Dad!” Tala rushed into his arms.

He hugged her tight, strong and proud. Moose stood back, heart full.

“I’m so proud of you, Tala,” Mr. Gonzalez said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered.

Then, Mr. Gonzalez looked toward Moose.

“Come here, son.”

Moose approached, caught off guard when the man pulled him into a hug.

“I’m proud of you too, Moose.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gonzalez,” Moose said, voice a little shaky.

The man stepped back, locking eyes with Moose.

“I trust you’ll take care of her.”

“With everything I am,” Moose replied, looking over at Tala.

Her dad nodded, satisfied. Then he turned, tossing Moose one final look—quiet, knowing.

As he walked away, Moose pulled Tala close, arms around her waist, nose brushing hers.

“Your dad definitely likes me now.”

“Oh, he adores you,” Tala grinned, pulling him into another kiss.

And this time—no one interrupted.

author:

pairings: Moose x Tala (OC)

summary: “Someone told Director Collins I’m competing in ’The Streets.’”

genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

series; wc: 4.3k

main masterlist series masterlist

𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗔'𝗦 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗔 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠.

The kind that made her cheeks warm just remembering it. The night before, she and Moose had shared a moment—a real moment. It wasn't flashy or dramatic. Just quiet, honest, and a little 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤.

Now, as she stepped through the front doors of MSA, that memory still echoed in her chest like a secret song.

But her smile vanished the second she saw the crowd.

Students were huddled outside one of the rehearsal studios, murmuring, phones out, expressions tense. Tala picked up her pace, shouldering her way through until she reached the doorway.

And froze.

The room looked like a 𝙬𝙖𝙧 𝙯𝙤𝙣𝙚.

Glass crunched under her sneakers as she stepped inside. The mirrors lining the wall were smashed, shards scattered across the floor. The overhead lights were shattered—some dangling from the ceiling like they'd been ripped down. Spray paint covered every surface in harsh, slanted letters. Furniture was overturned, broken. A deep red "X" covered the back wall.

And scrawled above it, in thick black strokes:

"𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗦."

Tala's breath caught.

She scanned the room and found him.

Moose stood near the far wall, shoulders hunched, hands in his jacket pockets, his face pale under the flickering light. He looked like he hadn't moved in a while. Like he was still processing it all.

Without thinking, Tala rushed over to him. "Moose, are you okay? Were you here when this happened?"

He turned slowly, his eyes meeting hers. There was a flicker of something in them—shock.

"I'm okay," he said softly patting her head.

Before she could press him, the door slammed open again.

Director Collins strode in, his steps echoing through the ruined studio. He stopped short, eyes widening as he took in the damage.

He moved slowly through the destruction, his jaw clenched.

Then, turning to the crowd outside the door, his voice rose: "Does anybody know who is responsible for this?"

No one answered.

They didn't have to.

The message on the wall said it all.

Collins followed their gazes. When he saw the words, his face darkened.

He turned back toward the students, voice sharp and final. "This school will not be associated with these competitions. Is that clear?"

Tala felt a chill go down her spine.

Collins' voice thundered now. "Any future involvement by our students in The Streets will lead to immediate 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝘂𝗹𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻."

She looked at Moose. He was already looking at her.

The fear between them didn't need to be spoken.

"And anyone with any information," Collins added, sweeping his gaze across them, "is expected to come forward."

Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

A tense silence hung in the air until one of the assistant instructors barked, "You heard him. Get this place cleaned up."

Slowly, students started to move—quiet, shaken, stepping over glass and splinters.

"𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘰?"

𓆩❀𓆪

The lunch bell rang like an afterthought to the tension brewing all morning. The MSA crew had agreed to meet during the break in their usual rehearsal studio — not to dance, but to talk. To figure out what was going to happen to them, to The Streets, to everything they'd been building outside the school's walls.

Moose sat on one of the tables glancing at the door every few seconds. Fly paced. Kido leaned back in a chair with her arms crossed, while Fly and Monster murmured to each other.

But one seat stayed empty.

Tala 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱.

Instead of heading to the studio, Tala slipped through the quieter back corridors of MSA. Her feet moved on instinct, taking her somewhere she used to feel calm — the theatre.

Her chest still felt heavy from what she'd seen earlier. The studio trashed. Moose's face. Director Collins' words. Her mind spiraled with the same question over and over:

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥？

She pushed the theatre door open, expecting the usual silence, the faint scent of sawdust and old velvet. She just wanted to move, start early on her solo, breathe a little.

But she wasn't alone.

Director Collins stood center stage, arms crossed, posture tense.

Tala froze. "Sir—I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone would be in here."

Collins didn't smile. Didn't blink. "No problem, Miss Gonzalez," he said coolly. "You're exactly the person I was looking for."

A chill crept up her spine. "Oh—umm. What can I help you with, sir?"

He walked slowly toward the edge of the stage, voice calm but tight. "A little birdie told me..." he leaned back against the platform, eyes sharp, "you're competing at 'The Streets.'"

Tala's heart stopped. "What?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her head shot up. The blood drained from her face.

"Is that true?" Collins asked, straightening up.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her lungs squeezed. Her throat closed. "I—I—" She stuttered, hands trembling by her sides. The walls felt like they were caving in. Her vision swam.

Tears welled in her eyes.

Collins let out a short, dry scoff. "You're a good kid, Miss Gonzalez," he said, pacing down the steps toward her. "Believe it or not, you're one of the top students here."

She looked up at him, desperate for mercy.

"That's why I'm not expelling you." He stopped in front of her. "But you're out of the school play."

The words hit like a slap to the chest.

"No," Tala whispered, her voice cracking. She turned after him as he walked away. "Please, you can't—this is all I have—please."

"I don't want to hear it, Miss Gonzalez," Collins snapped, already halfway to the door. "You're out."

He didn't look back.

The door swung shut with a hollow echo.

Tala stood there in the quiet, her chest shaking, the tears falling freely now. Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor of the stage she once dreamed of owning. Her hands covered her face, sobs breaking loose, drowning out the silence.

The theatre had never felt...𝙨𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙.

𓆩❀𓆪

Moose was moving 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 now.

He'd checked every hallway between rehearsals, glanced through the glass panels of her classes—empty. No Tala. He tried the courtyard where she sometimes lingered after lunch, sitting with a sketchbook and earbuds in, legs curled beneath her. No one. Not even a trace.

He rushed to the side dance studio—the one with the warped mirror she never liked but always used when she needed to be alone. Nothing. It was like she'd vanished.

But Moose knew her better than that.

There was one last place.

He jogged down the back corridor and reached for the creaky theatre door. It groaned open slowly. The room was still. Empty.

But the stage lights were on.

"Tal?" Moose called, his voice echoing across the seats.

Suddenly, the lights flickered off. Then back on. Then off again.

He squinted upward, confused. His eyes landed on the sound booth tucked at the back of the theater, high above the seats. A figure sat slouched in the chair, a hand lazily playing with the lighting controls.

Moose let out a soft, relieved laugh. "Of course," he murmured.

He took the aisle steps two at a time and pushed open the narrow stairway door. It groaned open with a metallic creak. At the top, he eased into the small booth, grinning.

"Tal', I've been searching all over for you," he said, stepping inside, leaning casually against the edge of the control panel. "You didn't show up at the meeting, and I got worried."

The girl didn't speak.

She didn't even look at him—just kept fiddling with the light switch, her long hair falling over her face, hiding her completely.

"Listen—" Moose tried again, glancing down at the stage as the lights kept flickering off and on. "You're kinda making this look like a haunted house."

Still no answer.

"Tal?" he said, now his voice softer. Concern rising.

He stepped closer and gently reached out, brushing her hair from her face.

What he saw made his breath 𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵.

Her eyes were bloodshot. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. Mascara had streaked dark lines down to her jaw. She stared blankly ahead, not seeing him, not seeing anything.

"Tala," Moose whispered, crouching in front of her, his hands steadying her arms. "What happened?"

She didn't respond.

"Tal, talk to me." He took her hand, gently pulling it away from the controls. "Please."

Her fingers went still.

Then, finally, she looked at him.

The moment their eyes met, she broke.

A sob tore out of her chest, and she collapsed forward. Moose didn't hesitate—he caught her, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame. She gripped his shirt like she was holding on for dear life, her whole body shaking with grief.

He held her tightly, whispering into her hair. "It's okay... I got you. I'm here."

Minutes passed in silence, only the sound of her crying filling the booth. When the sobs softened into quiet sniffles, he gently pulled her back just enough to see her face. He cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears still falling.

"What's going on?" he asked, voice quiet, searching her eyes.

"I'm off the play," Tala whispered, her voice breaking into a shaky, hollow smile.

"What?" Moose said, stunned. "Why? What happened?"

She rested her hand over his where it cradled her face, grounding herself. "Someone told Director Collins I'm competing in 'The Streets.'"

His face changed—confusion, anger, disbelief. "Who would do that?"

"I—" Her voice cracked again. "I don't know."

A long pause.

"Without this play, I'm 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴, Moose," she choked out. "It was everything. It was my ticket... my future. Without it, I go 𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲."

Her tears returned, threatening to overwhelm her again.

"Hey, hey." Moose pulled her back into his arms. "Don't say that."

He held her as she cried again, hands stroking her back gently. "We'll figure something out, okay? I promise. I'm with you no matter what."

She clung to him, barely holding herself together.

"I mean it, Tal. I don't care what Collins says. You're not alone in this."

He pressed a kiss into her hair.

And in that booth above the silent theatre, where dreams had just been broken, Tala let herself believe—for just a second—that maybe not everything was lost.

𓆩❀𓆪

The MSA crew was 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲.

After Director Collins' announcement, fear settled into everyone's bones. No one dared test the threat of expulsion. And so, one by one, they all quietly stepped back.

The crew's usual courtyard spot—wedged near the trashcans, where they'd once laughed so hard it drew stares—was now empty. Like it had never been theirs. Like they'd never existed.

They all still saw each other. In passing. In classes. On the street.

But not Moose. Not Tala.

It was like they vanished.

The truth? They hadn't gone far. Most days, they drifted together through the ghost halls—those quiet back corridors of MSA where they'd first met. Some afternoons, they curled up in the sound booth above the theatre, safe and unseen.

Tala even met Camille—Moose's oldest friend. She didn't come by often, but when she did, she and Tala hit it off instantly, especially when it came to roasting Moose.

"So let me get this straight," Tala said, grinning. "You wore fingerless gloves in middle school. On purpose?"

Camille burst out laughing. "And he called them his '𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴'?"

Moose turned, eyes wide with faux offense. "They gave me grip!"

"No, they gave you audacity," Camille shot back.

Moose groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Why do I tell you people anything?"

"Because you love us," Camille and Tala said in unison, high-fiving immediately after.

"I regret ever introducing you two."

In those moments, Tala felt... okay again. Her world still had cracks. But Moose made it feel whole.

𓆩❀𓆪

The sky was deep blue by the time Moose walked her home.

They took the long way, feet scuffing on cracked sidewalks, hands almost brushing. By the time they reached her front porch, the laughter had faded into a soft, comfortable silence.

Moose stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. "Well, I guess I should—"

"Want to stay for dinner?" Tala interrupted, hopeful.

Moose blinked. "Oh. Uh—I—really?"

Tala giggled at how flustered he was. "Come on," she grinned, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the door. "You're not getting out of this."

The moment they stepped inside, she called out, "I'm home!"

A voice responded almost instantly. "Hey, sweetie."

Her dad stepped around the corner, dish towel over his shoulder.

"Hi, Dad." Tala leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. Then she motioned beside her. "Dad, this is Moose. Moose, my dad."

Moose quickly stepped forward, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Her dad shook it firmly. "So this is the Moose I've heard all about."

Tala's eyes went wide. "Daaad," she groaned.

Moose laughed nervously.

"All right, all right. Dinner's almost ready. Go do... whatever teenagers do these days."

With a wave of his hand, he shooed them off.

Tala led Moose up the stairs with a casual "C'mon," glancing back only once to make sure he was following. He was — but his steps were a little slower, his eyes wide, taking in every unfamiliar detail.

"I can't believe I'm here," Moose muttered under his breath.

"What?" Tala asked, unlocking her bedroom door.

"Nothing—just," he looked around, "your house is nice. I wasn't ready to be pulled in like I belong here."

She chuckled, opening the door. "Well... you kinda do."

Moose blinked, trying to play it cool. "Oh. Right. Yeah. Totally."

She stepped into the room first. "Okay, don't judge. I didn't expect company."

Moose entered behind her, his hands in his jacket pockets like he wasn't sure where to put them. "This is way cleaner than my room. Mine looks like a sneaker tornado."

Tala laughed, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I believe that. You seem like the type to own twelve pairs and wear two."

"Hey," he said, smirking. "It's part of the style."

"You got a lot of style," she teased, "for a guy who got flustered over dinner."

Moose held up a hand. "In my defense, I didn't think I'd be meeting your 𝘥𝘢𝘥 today. I thought we were gonna vibe in the theatre, not... you know, 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳."

Tala smiled softly. "You handled it fine. He liked you."

"Yeah? He didn't threaten me or anything."

"He saved that for dessert," she deadpanned, making Moose chuckle.

He looked around her room—his gaze landing on a sketchpad on her desk. "You draw?"

"Sometimes," she said with a shy shrug. "Mostly for costumes. Or just stuff I dream up."

"That's cool. You got hidden talents, huh?"

Tala tilted her head. "I guess. You've got some too."

Moose raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Like... you're a way better dancer than you pretend to be. You hide behind all that goofy charm, but you're sharp. Smart."

He blinked, surprised. "No one's ever said that before."

"Well, I notice stuff," Tala said with a soft smile.

Moose rubbed the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor for a second. "You're making me blush, Gonzalez."

"You? A street dancer with a million fans on the sidewalk? Blushing?"

"Don't let the hair fool you. I'm soft," he said, giving her a playful wink.

She giggled. "I know."

There was a pause, but it wasn't awkward. Just comfortable.

Moose glanced back at her. "So what do you do when you're not acting, dancing or sketching?"

Tala leaned back on her hands. "Not much, honestly. I just hang out here. Sometimes I write. Watch old dance movies. Talk to the ceiling."

"The ceiling?" he grinned.

"Yeah. It's a good listener."

Moose nodded. "Well, I'm honored to be upgraded from ceiling to dinner guest."

Before Tala could answer, her dad called from downstairs. "Dinner's hot!"

Tala stood and offered him her hand. "C'mon, Mr. Sneaker Tornado. Let's eat."

Moose took her hand, letting her pull him up. "Lead the way, Miss Sketchbook."

𓆩❀𓆪

The table was already set when Moose and Tala walked in. Tala's dad was setting down a bowl of roasted potatoes, and the smell of garlic and spices filled the air.

"Smells amazing," Moose said, sliding into the chair Tala motioned to.

"Glad you think so," her dad replied with a grin. "I had to bribe the oven with a prayer and a promise."

"So," Tala's dad said, taking a sip of his soda, "how'd you two meet?"

"In the hallway," Tala said, reaching for a spoonful of rice. "He was doing a pirouette and almost took my head off."

"I was not doing a pirouette—" Moose protested.

"You were."

"I was warming up!"

Her dad laughed. "You threatened her life with breakdancing. Impressive."

They all chuckled, and for a moment, the room felt easy—comfortable.

Then her dad nodded Moose's way. "Alright, now tell me. Moose? That your real name or did you lose a bet?"

Moose smiled sheepishly, lowering his fork. "No bet. It's a nickname... from when I was younger."

Her dad leaned in, clearly interested. "Let's hear it."

Moose rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I had this big, poofy hair that just kind of floated everywhere—especially when I ran. A few kids at school started calling me 'baby moose' because apparently, I looked like one trying to learn how to walk. It stuck."

Tala's dad let out a big laugh. "That's fantastic. Moose. I like it. Beats my high school nickname by a mile."

Tala groaned, already bracing herself. "Dad, don't—"

"I won't, I won't," he said, still laughing. "You've suffered enough."

He reached for the breadbasket and gave Moose a nod. "So, you go to MSA too?"

"Yes, sir. I'm in lighting design. Theater tech stuff, mostly."

"Lighting, huh? That's cool. You're the guy setting the mood without being in the spotlight."

"Exactly," Moose said. "I like creating moments, but I'm good staying behind the scenes."

"You good at it?"

"I... I'd like to think so," Moose said, scratching the back of his neck. "I've been doing it for a few years. Got a few shows under my belt."

"Hmm," Tala's dad nodded thoughtfully, then turned to his daughter. "And this is the friend you've been talking about nonstop for the past week?"

Tala dropped her fork with a clatter. "Daaaad—"

Moose's face went a little red, trying—and failing—not to smile.

Her dad grinned at both of them. "What? I'm just making conversation. I like to know who's hanging around my daughter."

"Do you interrogate all of her friends like this?" Moose asked with a laugh, trying to hide how nervous he still kind of was.

"She's never brought anyone home before," her dad said with a shrug. "So yeah. This is a rare opportunity."

Moose blinked, glancing at Tala, who quickly looked away and focused intently on her potatoes.

"I'm honored," Moose said softly.

There was a beat of silence, warm and comfortable.

Then Tala's dad added casually, "So, you dating my daughter or what?"

Tala nearly choked on her water.

Moose froze, eyes wide. "I—uh—I mean—uh—"

"DAD!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" her dad laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Look at your faces!"

Moose shook his head with a breathy laugh. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Good. Keeps you on your toes," her dad said, reaching for more bread. "I like you, Moose. You've got a decent head on your shoulders."

They continued to chat and eat, stories flowing around the table like a warm current. When the last bites were taken and forks rested on empty plates, Moose stood to help clean up.

"I can—"

"Nope," Tala's dad cut in. "You two go enjoy the evening. Guest room's clean if you want to stay."

Moose hesitated, looking at Tala, who was already looking at him with hopeful eyes.

"I'll text my parents," he said, pulling out his phone. "Thanks for dinner, Mr. Gonzalez."

"Anytime, Moose."

Tala grabbed Moose's sleeve, tugging him toward the stairs before her dad could say anything else.

As they disappeared down the hallway, her dad just shook his head, smiling.

𓆩❀𓆪

Back in Tala's room, Moose plopped down on her bed with a full stomach and a sleepy smile, rubbing his hands together. "Okay, that was officially the best meal I've had in weeks."

"I'll let my dad know he's been promoted to your personal chef," Tala said, kicking her door shut gently behind her.

Just then, Moose's phone buzzed. He checked it, then turned the screen toward her. "They said yes. I'm good to stay over."

Tala's face lit up like someone flipped a switch. "Yes!" she grinned, bouncing once on her toes. "Okay, wait right here!"

Before Moose could even answer, she had already sprinted out the door.

He blinked, still clutching his phone. "Okay... I guess I'm waiting here."

A minute later, she returned, slightly out of breath, holding a folded T-shirt and an oversized hoodie. "Here—my dad's stuff. Should fit... well, sort of."

He took them with a grateful smile. "Thanks. Hopefully I don't drown in them."

She chuckled and pointed down the hallway. "Bathroom's the same one you passed earlier—left side."

Moose gave her a salute and headed off to change. When he returned, Tala was already back on her bed, legs curled beneath her, scrolling through something on her phone. She looked up and stifled a laugh.

The clothes were definitely roomy. The T-shirt drooped slightly over one shoulder and the hoodie sleeves extended well past his hands. The sweatpants were cinched tight but still sagged a bit at the ankles.

"Oh my god," she said, covering her mouth, "you look like you shrunk in the wash."

"I feel like I did," Moose said, tugging the sleeves up. "I'm about one scarf away from starring in a holiday commercial."

Tala giggled, patting the space beside her. "Well, at least you're cozy."

He plopped down beside her, grinning. "I'm practically wrapped in a family heirloom."

They sat in an easy silence for a moment, the kind that didn't need filling. Outside her window, the quiet hum of the neighborhood at night filtered in—distant cars, a soft breeze.

Moose flopped onto the beanbag on the floor.

"So uh... what do you usually do after school? When you're not sneaking into sound booths."

Tala grinned. "Honestly? Mostly dance. Or just... lie on my bed with music blasting and pretend I'm in a music video."

Moose's eyes lit up. "Okay, that's kinda relatable. Do you ever do the fake interview thing too?"

Tala gasped. "You do that too?!"

He laughed. "Absolutely. Hairbrush mic and everything."

They shared a real smile then—unfiltered and genuine.

𓆩❀𓆪

Later that night, back in her room, Moose sat on the edge of her bed, flipping through one of her old photo albums. He paused on a picture of Tala as a little girl, front teeth missing, proudly holding a small theatre trophy.

"You've been acting forever."

"I had to," she said from her desk chair, spinning slightly. "Acting was the only way to not disappear."

He looked up. "You're the last person who could disappear."

Tala stopped spinning. "You say that like it's easy."

"It's not," he admitted. "𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝙮𝙤𝙪. You don't have to fight to be noticed with me. I notice you even when you're not saying a word."

She swallowed, moved. "You always know the right thing to say."

"I just say what 𝙞 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡."

They locked eyes. The quiet in the room was suddenly loud with everything they weren't saying.

And then—suddenly—a song started playing from Moose's pocket. A romantic, slow tune with soft piano and a breathy voice singing about forever and first love.

Moose froze. "Oh my god."

Tala blinked. "𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦"

He fumbled for his phone, cheeks pink. "I swear that wasn't planned. That's — Camille sent me a song. I didn't even press play!"

Tala just raised a brow, her smile teasing. "Sure."

But instead of turning it off, Moose hesitated... then looked at her.

Like he always did in these strange, perfect little moments, he reached out and gently took her hands in his.

"Come on," he said, standing and pulling her with him.

Tala laughed, a little unsure. "Moose—"

"It's 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙣𝙤𝙬," he said with a grin, holding her hands steady. "Don't ruin the streak."

So there they were, in the middle of her bedroom, slow dancing to a cheesy love song that neither of them had chosen. His hoodie sleeves kept slipping over his fingers. She kept accidentally stepping on his socks. It was awkward, clumsy, a little ridiculous.

But it felt 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

Tala shook her head, smiling at him as they moved gently to the beat. "We must look so dumb right now."

What she didn't know—just outside her room, across the hallway—her father stood leaning quietly against the doorframe. The door had been left slightly ajar, and he hadn't meant to intrude. But now he couldn't look away.

There they were—his daughter and the strange boy with kind eyes and oversized clothes—dancing like the world didn't exist outside that room.

And for the first time in years, he saw Tala as someone who was no longer lonely. No longer hiding.

His chest ached in the best way.

He smiled softly to himself, then turned and walked away down the hall, whispering under his breath:

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘥. 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.

author:

this is just a filler chapter (4k words for a filler chapter) until we go back to the ending of the movie.

pairings: Moose x Tala (OC)

summary: "It feels like a dream. wish I could stay in this moment forever."

genre: fluff

series; wc: 2,8k

main masterlist series masterlist

"𝗬𝗢 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗔, 𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗧 𝗨𝗣!" Monster yelled from the stage of the theatre.

Tala turned around, eyebrows raised. She always forgot that Monster was in this play with her — technically, just the stunt double for James — but still.

She paused, letting him gather his things.

Monster caught up, groaning. "Yesterday was humiliating."

"Come on now," Tala nudged him gently, trying to lighten the mood. "It's our first performance, and we weren't even supposed to perform... soo... technically it doesn't count," she added with a smile.

"Yeah, right." Monster laughed too, but it was hollow — no real humor behind it.

"We'll beat them at The Streets. Trust."

"I don't think we'll get there," he muttered.

"Don't say that." Tala pushed open the door to the studio, her voice firm.

Monster didn't respond — just gave her a look that said he didn't believe it.

Inside, Andie turned toward them. "Thank you for coming, guys."

Tala's eyes found Moose across the room. He smiled. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away.

Moose chuckled to himself.

"Guys, gather around!" Chase called, clapping his hands.

The crew settled into a loose circle, the air suddenly thick with 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

Chase sensed it. "Guys, come on. This is one performance."

"Yeah, we didn't work this hard just to give up, you know?" Andie added, trying to rally them.

"We shouldn't have went there in the first place," Smiles shot back. "We looked like idiots."

"Seriously, Chase. You know the choreography wasn't even right for this," Cable added, frustration in his voice.

"Hey now, don't blame Chase for all this," Tala defended, tone sharp.

That was the tipping point — voices rose, everyone speaking over each other. Some defended Chase. Others blamed him. The circle turned chaotic.

Then the door opened.

A hush fell.

One of the girls from last night — from 410 — stepped in.

"Hey."

A few crew members tensed up.

"Oh, it's cool, I know her," Andie said quickly, standing up and walking over.

"𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?"

"𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘣 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴?"

"𝘎𝘶𝘺𝘴. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵"

The whispers ran like wildfire.

"Hey, you guys," Andie called as she returned to the group. "This is my girl, Missy."

Missy waved, tho only Kido and Tala returned the gesture.

"She's here to uh..." Andie paused, then grinned. "Help us out."

Missy, for her part, looked like she wasn't entirely sure what she'd been dragged into.

"Help us out?" Smiles echoed, incredulous. "We bombed last night."

"Yeah, our respect went out the window," Moose added, leaning back.

"It wasn't that bad, guys," Tala said, trying to keep things from boiling again.

"Yes, it was," the crew said in near-perfect unison — then launched back into another round of arguing.

"Hold up— hol' up, hol' up," Missy cut in, her voice slicing through the noise. "What're you talking about '𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸'?"

The room quieted.

"Like respect is going?" she scoffed. "Like you can always get it back."

The MSA crew had nothing to say to that. Silence.

Missy let it hang for a moment, then grinned. "So what are y'all thinking for The Prank tho?"

"Wha- what Prank?" Kido blinked.

"Yo D," Missy turned to Andie, "you ain't tell them about The Prank?"

"The Prank is what the crews do to show they're competing for The Streets," Missy explained. "It's a public declaration saying that you're bringing it. The crazier it is, the better."

The crew watched her, totally captivated, as if she just told them the secret to life.

"For proof, you gotta record it and post it online. Then it spreads like wildfire," she added, eyes scanning every one of them.

"And if you guys hit it like I 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 you can," she said, pausing for effect, "y'all get your respect back."

A beat.

"I got an idea."

𓆩❀𓆪

"I look ridiculous," Tala deadpanned as she looked at her reflection in the window of one of the shops. She had fake facial hair on, wore baggy clothes that did 𝗻𝗼𝘁 fit her.

"Heyy, you'd make a very handsome man," Moose said, grinning as his reflection appeared behind her, slightly off to the side.

Tala squinted at the mirror, unsure if it was actually Moose or someone else. Once she confirmed it was him, she slowly turned around to face him, arms crossed.

"Wow," she chuckled. "You look like you'd make delicious cookies as a grandma," she said, giving him an exaggerated once-over. The cardigan, the fake pearls, and the sensible shoes really brought it together.

"Rightt," Moose replied proudly, doing a slow spin like he was modeling couture. The skirt flared a little, which only made them both chuckls.

Their small laughter slowly died out, leaving a pause between them. A beat of silence passed where their eyes met—warm, easy.

"So—"

"Guys! Come on, we need to go!" Chase's voice rang down from across thw street, breaking the moment.

"Right. Let's go," Tala said quickly, brushing past Moose to catch up with the others.

Moose lingered for a second, watching her go with a smirk before following.

"Seriously?" Andie turned to Chase as they walked.

"What?" Chase asked, looking genuinely confused.

Andie stared at him for a second, expression unreadable, before letting out a small scoff and turning away.

"What did I do?"

𓆩❀𓆪

"That was hilarious!" Hair yelled, still hyped from the prank.

They had just uploaded the video to YouTube, and it was already racking up views.

𝘖𝘩, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 410'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯．

"Not gonna lie, I miss my costume," Moose said, striking a pose. "I was a dashing grandma."

"Tala looked like she had the time of her life," Monster teased, pointing at her.

She was still trying to scrub the fake facial hair off her face.

"𝗛𝗮.𝗛𝗮. Funny," Tala grumbled, flopping down in front of the mirror. "I can't get this stuff 𝙤𝙛𝙛," she groaned, making the crew laugh again.

"Lemme help," Cable offered, walking over.

"Why are you using water - cold at that - to remove this?" he asked, pushing the bowl aside and rummaging through his bag. He pulled out a bottle. "Here. Hair oil."

"Why do you have hair oil in your bag?" Tala asked, turning towards him.

"How do you think my hair stays this soft?" Cable said, dramatically flipping his hair as he gently removed the beard.

Across the room, the laughter started dying down. The crew glanced around at each other, noticing someone's clenched jaw, the tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his eyes locked on Tala and Cable.

"Moose," Monster said carefully.

Moose shot him a glare.

"Sorry, guys. What were we talking about?" Moose said, trying to play it cool — though his eyes still flicked toward the pair by the mirror.

"Right," Smiles replied, tone flat.

𓆩❀𓆪

After the prank, the tension within the crew lifted. Practice sessions became lighter, easier, more fun.

The speakers blasted their chosen song for The Streets battle. The crew paired off to rehearse.

(𝘜𝘯)fortunately for Moose and Tala, they ended up partnered.

They did what they needed to do — the steps, the timing, the lifts. But beyond that, they didn't speak. The air between them was awkward, heavy — like they both wanted to say something, but neither had the courage to.

The MSA doors burst open as the crew made their way out after a successful practice session.

They spilled down the stairs, chatting — some noticing the girl waiting up ahead, some not.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" Sophie asked, eyeing the group suspiciously.

"Oh, hi Sophie! What's up?" Chase said quickly, stepping in front of her.

"Rehearsing for the fundraiser," she replied, in that tone that made it sound 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴.

"Why are you here on a Saturday?"

"We were gonna do the same thing, but it's locked," Chase lied smoothly.

There was a brief silence.

"We gotta roll, so we'll see you," Missy said, starting to walk off — only for Moose to stop her.

"Where are we going?"

"To my house," Missy said casually. "My family's having a barbecue, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Barbecue," Chase chimed in, though the others still looked confused.

"Barbecue?" Kido whispered to Tala.

"Just go with it," she muttered.

"What are you all waiting for? Let's go!"

The crew broke into a chorus of "Okay!" "Alright!" "Let's go!"

𓆩❀𓆪

Missy's house was 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚—bursting with color, music, and the mouthwatering smell of food. Latin music poured from every speaker, drifting over the chatter and laughter of friends and family. It was a slice of heaven.

People danced in the backyard, spilled out onto the whole house, and sang along to the music. The energy was contagious.

Missy's mom appeared, beaming as she made her way through the crowd and wrapped Andie in a warm hug. Then her eyes scanned the rest of the crew, lighting up with joy.

"Eat! Come, come, you're too skinny!" she said, gesturing dramatically toward the buffet table.

Kido didn't hesitate—she practically launched himself into a hug, making everyone laugh.

The fiesta was in full swing when an abuelo pulled Tala onto the dance floor, spinning her into a salsa. The MSA crew whistled and cheered, hyping her up until one by one, they got swept into the dance too.

"You're good, mija," the abuelo said with a proud grin as they moved to the beat.

"Thank you," Tala laughed, breathless, "you're not so bad for your age."

He gave her a playful glare before chuckling, spinning her again just to show off.

The sky was deepening into twilight when Tala noticed Andie and Missy slipping out the back door, all dressed up.

"Damn, girls!" Tala called after them, laughing as they waved her off.

She stepped off the dance floor to catch her breath, cheeks flushed and heart light. She headed for a table on the edge of the yard, plopping down without realizing someone else was already sitting there, quietly watching the dancers.

And 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙨.

"You looked like you were having fun out there," a voice said softly behind her.

Tala jumped slightly, whipping her head around. "Oh my God," she gasped, hand to her chest. "You don't sneak up on people like that!"

Moose gave her a crooked smile. "I was here first. You snuck up on me."

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smile.

"So?" he said, leaning a little closer.

"So what?"

"I said," he repeated more gently this time, "you looked like you were having fun out there."

He'd been watching her the entire time. Watching the way she lit up under the string lights, the way she laughed so freely, danced like she didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders. He knew how much she'd been juggling lately—school, dance, theatre . But here, she was nothing but joy and that was more than enough for Moose to feel happy.

Tala glanced back at the dance floor, where their friends were still going strong. "Yeah," she said quietly, almost like a secret. "It feels like a dream. I wish I could stay in this moment forever."

Moose nodded, eyes still on the dancing crowd. "I wanna be like them when I grow up."

"What?"

He smiled, eyes soft. "I want to still dance when I'm old"

She laughed, a warm, surprised sound.

But Moose's gaze had drifted—just for a second—to something else. Something imagined. A little living room, jazz music playing low, he and Tala slow dancing under dim light, older, still laughing, still in love.

He blinked, his face turning pink, realising what he was  thinking.

He watched her as she clapped at the people dancing.

𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮．

"C'mon," he said suddenly, standing and offering his hand. "Let's dance."

"Now?" she raised a brow, playful. "That's a bit of a mood shift."

"I haven't danced at all," he shrugged, grinning. "And I kinda wanna dance 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪."

Tala looked at him for a beat—at his outstretched hand, at the glimmer in his eyes—then took it, letting him pull her up.

As they stepped onto the dance floor, the world fell away. It didn't matter who was watching. It didn't matter what time it was or what came next. In that moment, it was just Moose and Tala—smiling, spinning, hearts syncing to the beat.

They danced like no one else mattered. Because right then, 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗱.

𓆩❀𓆪

"Bye, guys!" Moose and Tala called out together, waving as the last of their friends disappeared into the night.

The crew — plus Sophie — had stayed late to help Missy's family clean up.

Now, it was just the two of them, walking side by side beneath the soft glow of streetlights.

They took up the whole sidewalk, bumping shoulders, giggling over inside jokes and memories. To anyone watching, they might've seemed a little tipsy — but really, it was just two kids drunk on each other, falling quietly, deeply, into something neither of them dared name aloud.

Their laughter slowly faded into a comfortable silence. The kind that says everything without needing words.

"I still can't believe we're graduating this year," Moose said suddenly, his voice softer now.

"Yeah..." Tala sighed, nudging a pebble with her foot. "Meeting you guys... meeting you... makes leaving this place really hard."

"You're leaving?" a sudden fear creeped into his chest.

Tala gave him a gentle nod. "That's the plan. What about you?"

"I... don't know yet." Moose looked ahead, but his thoughts were still on her. "Where are you going?"

"Well, the dream is Juilliard," she said with a small, hopeful smile. "If that doesn't work out... Stanford's my backup."

"Wow," Moose let out a breathy chuckle. "The big leagues, huh?"

"Trying to," Tala laughed softly. "I've applied for scholarships at both."

"So that's it?" Moose's voice cracked just slightly, tho it was unnoticeable. "You're really gonna go."

Tala shrugged, like she was trying to play it cool, but her eyes were heavy with uncertainty. "I'd be lucky to make it onto the waitlist."

Moose bumped her shoulder, his smile bittersweet. "You've got the talent for Juilliard

𝘢𝘯𝘥  the brains for Stanford, Tal. If anyone's getting in, it's you."

Her lips curled into a real smile this time. "Some Juilliard reps are coming to see the play, actually."

"No way—seriously?"

"Yeah. That's why I have to be good. This could be the ticket to my dream"

The mood shifted, like a cloud passing over the moon. A quiet weight settled between them, unspoken fears and what-ifs occupying the silence.

Moose suddenly stepped in front of her, holding out his hands with exaggerated flair. "Nope. Can't do this. Too depressing."

"What are you—" Tala began to ask, but he was already twirling around her in goofy, dramatic steps.

She laughed — really laughed — the tension breaking like glass. She joined in without hesitation, and soon they were salsa dancing again, just like earlier.

"This is so weird without music," Tala giggled.

"Who needs music?" Moose scoffed playfully. He spun her, then dipped her low, holding her close.

They froze there, faces just inches apart. The world fell silent around them — just the sound of their breathing, hearts racing. Their eyes met. Her lips parted. His thumb brushed her cheek. Their foreheads touched, their lips about to—

*𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙆*

A car horn ripped through the moment. Moose yanked them out of the street and onto the sidewalk just as headlights swept past.

"GET A ROOM!" the driver yelled.

They looked at each other, startled — then burst into laughter.

"What a dick," Moose muttered.

"I mean... we 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 in the middle of the road," Tala pointed out through her laughter.

They stood there, slowly catching their breath, their smiles lingering.

"I should go," Tala said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," Moose said, trying not to let the weight in his chest show. "Of course."

"Goodnight, Moose."

He watched her walk away, her silhouette shrinking beneath the streetlights.

And then, to the empty night, he whispered:

"𝙄'𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧"

author:

pairings: Moose x Tala (OC)

summary: "i'll let you know when i can find someone who can keep up"

genre: bit if angst, fluff

series; wc: 2.4k

main masterlist series masterlist

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗥𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗗 in the studio, echoing through the walls and thudding into the floor.

Near the back of the room, the girls — Tala, Andie, Kido, and Fly — claimed a corner. They stretched lazily, half-focused, half-gossiping between beats of the music.

"I'm telling you, Chase tripped because he was watching you," Kido whispered to Andie, who immediately threw her head back and laughed.

"Please," Andie said. "That boy trips over air."

"Air with a view," Fly teased, glancing toward the boys' side.

"Ignore them," Tala muttered, face already flushed from their last run-through. She sipped from her water bottle, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips.

Laughter echoed from their corner, with Andie dropping low to the new song playing on the speaker, shaking it to the beat. Kido and Fly cheered her on, joining in with a spontaneous twerk session, throwing playful shade and dancing like no one was watching — though they knew the boys definitely were.

On the other side of the studio, Moose, Chase, Monster, Hair, Cable, and Smiles were in their own world. Shirts were off. Abs were out. They were comparing as if it was a world class competition.

The guys argued and continued showing off — hoping for the girls to see it probably.

Hair spun on the floor mid-conversation, breaking into a sudden freeze as he felt the new vibrations of the song. "Let's go!" he yelled, just for the hell of it.

Monster laughed. "We flexin' or we dancin'?"

Moose, standing off to the side, was already messing around with some intricate footwork, watching both the mirrors and the girls as the energy in the room rose. Chase caught his eye and nodded toward the other side.

"𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 girl looks winded."

Moose followed his gaze. Tala was hunched over, hands on her knees, panting. Her curls were damp with sweat, and she was clearly drained.

He walked over without saying a word and offered his hand. Tala looked up, her face still red, breathing hard.

"C'monn," Moose said with a grin. "You can do it."

"I'm dying," she groaned.

"Nah, you're just warming up." He took her hand and stepped into a light salsa rhythm, swinging her gently side to side. "Just follow my lead."

Tala let out a breathless laugh. "This is not the dance you do to a song like this."

"Exactly," he winked.

Their impromptu salsa caught attention fast. Smiles gasped. "Okay! Moose out here with the Latin flavor!"

"That's it," Fly said. "We're making it a partner moment."

One by one, the others joined in. Chase grabbed Andie's hand and spun her around. Monster and Kido stumbled into a wild two-step. Hair paired with Fly, pulling exaggerated ballroom poses while she laughed uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Smiles and Cable dance together with feigned seriousness.

Soon the entire crew was paired off, dancing across the floor with chaotic, joyful energy.

Then Cable shouted, "Freestyle circle! Let's go!"

The music cranked up as a wide circle formed in the middle of the room. Smiles jumped in first, gliding into the center with his signature popping style, drawing hoots and applause. Fly followed, isolating her movements with laser precision. Hair spun on his back, caught a freeze, and held it until Monster ran in and pretended to knock him over.

Andie danced like she had fire in her veins, all power and rhythm. Chase slid in smooth as silk, locking eyes with her as they traded moves mid-circle. Kido brought the attitude with her crumping, and Cable flipped cleanly before hitting a wave that passed through his whole body.

Then Tala stepped in, still tired, but smiling wide. The music shifted to a slower, deeper groove. She moved with calm power—her flow sharp but graceful, her steps grounded, precise. Moose jumped in next to her, matching her energy, complimenting every motion with his own. The room went wild.

When the song finally faded out, the whole crew collapsed to the floor in a sweaty, laughing heap.

"That was insane," Andie panted, flat on her back.

"We need to do that more often," Monster added.

Moose rolled onto his side, facing Tala. "You kept up."

Tala gave him a tired smirk. "Barely."

"But you did," he said, nudging her arm.

Lying in a circle of friends, surrounded by sweat, music, and joy, the MSA crew knew—they were more than dancers. They were a crew. A family.

𓆩❀𓆪

Later that night, the MSA crew filled up 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩, Tala's go-to bar with beat-up booths, moody lighting, and a sound system always just loud enough to make the walls vibrate.

After the long rehearsal, they weren't ready to call it a night. They needed to move, to laugh, to be loud without anyone yelling "5-6-7-8."

Someone queued up an old-school track with a groovy bassline, and the moment the beat dropped, Fly was already on her feet.

"Dance floor, now!" she shouted.

"Say less," Kido replied, dragging Monster with her.

Chase tossed his jacket aside and pointed at Andie. "You're dancing with me before anyone steals my spotlight."

"Whatever" she said with a small smile, letting him pull her toward the open floor.

Tala stood and rolled her shoulders, stretching lazily like she wasn't interested—but Moose 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘄 better.

"You gonna dance or just stand there pretending you're too cool?" he asked, arms crossed leaning back into his chair.

She glanced over her shoulder, smirking. "Oh, I'm definitely dancing."

He raised a brow. "With who?"

She gave him a playful shrug. "𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘂𝗽"

That made him scoff-laugh. "Wow."

Tala walked away slowly, swaying to the beat as she went — just enough to make sure he was watching. She didn't look back, but her smile gave her away.

Moose took a deep breath like she was testing his patience — though he was definitely amused. He followed her onto the floor, catching up with a casual, confident stride.

"Oh, so now you're interested?" she teased, meeting him halfway.

"I was just making sure you didn't hurt yourself out here dancing without supervision."

Tala snorted. "Please. You'd be lucky to keep up."

He held out a hand. "Prove it."

She rolled her eyes like it was a chore, but she took his hand anyway, spinning herself into a goofy little step. Moose followed, turning it into an exaggerated salsa that made both of them laugh.

Soon, the whole crew was dancing in pairs — if you could call it that — Kido was pretending to waltz with Cable while Monster and Fly did some kind of...dance. Hair and Smiles were doing a full-on mime routine to the beat.

Chase and Andie were definitely the smoothest on the floor — trading tight footwork and little challenges like they had their own language.

But Tala and Moose? They were somewhere in between the goofballs and the showoffs. Their rhythm was playful, loose, constantly teasing. He'd step in too close on purpose, and she'd nudge him back with a smirk. She'd toss in a dramatic body roll and he'd dramatically pretend to faint.

"You realize we're the best-looking pair out here, right?" Moose joked.

"Oh yeah?" Tala said. "You mean because I'm here?"

"Obviously."

Tala shook her head, grinning. "You're impossible."

He shrugged. "But you're still dancing with me."

"Yeah, well... You make a decent partner. When you're not trying to be slick."

He shot her a wink. "'Decent' is how legends start."

She laughed and spun away, but not too far, just far enough to keep him on his toes.

And just like that, the music kept pulsing, the lights stayed warm, and the teasing danced on between them — nothing official, nothing serious. Just two people enjoying the rhythm and the company... maybe a little too much.

𓆩❀𓆪

After that day, things between Moose and Tala changed — not in a bad way. During rehearsals, they became more touchy, and at school, they stuck together more than ever.

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚?" Andie asked as she and Tala strolled down the halls.

Tala glanced at her, then quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks flushing.

"Nothing. What do you mean?" she said, trying to sound casual.

"Right," Andie replied sarcastically. "I see you two during rehearsal," she added, nudging Tala knowingly.

"Well..." For once, Tala didn't know what to say. "How about you and Chase, then?" she retorted, hoping to change the subject and throw Andie off.

But it didn't work.

"Me and Chase? No, thank you," Andie replied nonchalantly. "But you and Moose..." She stepped in front of Tala, stopping her in her tracks.

Andie stared at her, trying to pry out a confession. Tala stared back, but Andie didn't back down.

"Ugh," Tala finally sighed, slumping against a locker. "I don't know, there's nothing, okay? I mean it." She crossed her arms. "I know as much as you do."

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't talked about it, nor have we acknowledged it," Tala admitted, clearly frustrated.

"Well, maybe you need to talk to him," Andie suggested, a little 𝘂𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 — advice wasn't really her strong suit.

"I know, but I'm scared because what if things cha—"

𝘿𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂

The bell rang, signaling the start of a new period.

Tala and Andie's eyes widened '𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵! 𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦! they bolted off — Andie headed to dance, Tala to theatre.

𓆩❀𓆪

That night's dance rehearsal was more intense than usual.

Everyone was out of breath, sweat soaking through their clothes. Chase had been pushing them harder than ever, and no one knew why — until:

"Yo, guys!" he clapped, catching everyone's attention. "Who wants to see the competition?"

It wasn't really a question — more of a 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. But everyone agreed.

𓆩❀𓆪

The club — 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 — was packed, wild, and chaotic. Music pounded off the walls, and people danced everywhere.

Tala felt uneasy. This wasn't her kind of scene. The way guys tried to lure her into dances or stared at her made her uncomfortable.

Moose, knowing how situations like this affected her, held her hand tightly and didn't let go as he guided her through the crowd.

Tala didn't catch much of what was happening — the noise was overwhelming — until she heard Moose say, "Yeah, we're her crew."

She turned and saw a group of intimidating dancers facing down Andie and the rest of the crew.

"We're getting ready to battle at 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨," Moose said politely — but the girl facing him didn't match his tone.

"What street? Sesame Street?" she snapped. "What you know about the streets?"

Tala could see Moose's expression change — offended, angry. She squeezed his hand, making him glance at her.

She gave him a look that asked, Are you okay?

Moose nodded, "I'm okay," he said softly, patting her head before turning back to the confrontation.

"Hey, why don't you guys just back off?" Chase said, stepping in — still trying to be civil. "We're just here to check a few things out."

"This how you've been wasting your time? With these losers?" a guy — tall, intense — scanned the crew as he addressed Andie.

Chase caught the look on Andie's face and instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her.

"Why don't you do your thing? We're gonna do ours," Chase said firmly, trying to de-escalate.

"Oh. You got a thing you do?" the guy mocked. "Why don't you show us now, homeboy?"

"Alright, let's go," Chase agreed.

"Yeah, let's go!!" Kido chimed in, spouting some Japanese that none of them understood.

As the dance floor cleared and the music blared, Moose, Chase, Hair, Fly, Cable, and Smiles stepped in first.

"Woo! You can do this!" Tala cheered, even though she felt nervous — scared, even. They weren't ready for this.

The crew scrambled, trying to recall their choreography. But they weren't in sync. Their moves clashed and fell flat.

The crowd booed them off the floor.

"That's how you dance? Your mama taught you that?" the DJ yelled, while the crowd erupted in laughter and insults.

The MSA crew stood stunned — embarrassed and shaken — still they tried to dance once again only to be met with the same fate as before.

"Let's get it! 410, can we get it started?" the DJ shouted as the rival crew stepped in.

They were sharp, slick, their transitions clean, their energy magnetic.

The MSA crew could only stare, frozen in humiliation.

"See how they entertaining? That's how we do it! You can't learn that in school!" the DJ shouted, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

One by one, the crew began to walk out.

"Let's just..." Andie began, watching Kido disappear, "Let's just regroup tomorrow."

Moose took off his beanie, clearly still rattled, but Tala gently tugged on his arm, pulling him toward the exit — not without saying goodbye to Andie first.

They stepped outside into the quiet night, a stark contrast to the chaos inside.

Moose was silent, still in a daze, neither of them noticing that their hands were intertwined.

"You good, Moose?" Tala asked, glancing over at him.

"That was traumatizing," Moose said with a humorless chuckle.

"Well..." she trailed off, unsure of how to comfort him. "I thought you guys were — are — good. We just weren't ready to battle tonight."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze without even thinking.

"I mean... yeah, I guess you're right." He sighed. She had never seen him so dejected. "Man, I can't wait to beat them at The Streets," he added, the fire returning to his voice.

"That's the spirit!" Tala cheered, throwing her hand in the air. "Woo!"

That's when she noticed — her hand felt heavier. She looked at her hand to see their fingers still laced together — and Moose already staring at their hands, grinning.

Her face went red. She quickly pulled her hand back and crossed her arms, looking anywhere but at him.

She could hear Moose chuckle, and when she glanced, he was still smiling at his hand.

"Umm... my house is this way. Bye," she mumbled, rushing off without waiting for a response.

"Bye, Tala. Good night!" Moose called after her.

She didn't respond — just picked up the pace.

Once she was out of sight, Moose leapt into the air.

"WOO!" he shouted. "YES!!"

The embarrassment was long gone.

Love really does make us stupid.

author:

pairings: Moose x Tala (OC)

summary: "Most importantly, you and me finally get to dance 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧."

genre: fluff

series; 1.3k

main masterlist series masterlist

"𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗨𝗬𝗦, listen up! Check it out!"

Chase's voice rang out loud and clear, grabbing everyone's attention immediately.

He stood confidently in the center of the room, excitement radiating off him. Once he had everyone's eyes on him, he continued, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"Now, I know each and every one of you knows what it's like to be forced to..." — he paused, searching for the right words — " 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢 and become an 𝗠𝗦𝗔 𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗼𝘁" His voice softened with a touch of pity and understanding.

A murmur of agreement spread through the group.

"Yeah, they wanted me to cut my hair," Hair said quietly, a note of sadness in his voice.

"And they wanted me to fix my teeth," Smiles added with a shrug, trying to brush it off casually.

"I like your teeth!" Kiddo suddenly blurted out, startling Smiles.

"Yeah," Tala chimed in, smiling warmly. "They give you a boyish charm."

Smiles' grin grew even wider, genuinely touched. "Thank you," he said, beaming. Then, turning to Kiddo, he added, "I like your accent."

Kiddo frowned in confusion. "What accent?"

"The accent you have," Smiles insisted, chuckling.

"I don't have an accent," Kiddo said firmly, bewildered.

"It's really strong," Smiles teased, causing everyone around them to burst into laughter.

Chase took the opportunity to regain their attention, raising his voice slightly.

"That's exactly my point!" he said, a gleam of determination in his eyes. "I know that each one of you guys has an amazing talent— that this school doesn't know what to do with."

He let his words sink in before flashing a mischievous smile.

"I think it's time we do something with that talent."

"Like what?" Monster asked, curiosity piqued.

Chase's grin widened.

"Like forming a crew and competing at "𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨"."

For a moment, there was silence — and then:

"No! No way!" the others exclaimed almost in unison, panic in their voices.

"I heard it's dangerous," Fly said, shaking her head.

"And if Director Collins finds out, we could get expelled!" Tala added, her voice rising with worry.

"Hey! Forget about what you heard," Andie cut in, stepping forward confidently. "The Streets is about the best dance crew showing off what they got"

"Still... we don't stand a chance," Smiles said, his earlier energy fading fast.

"What are you talking about?" Chase exclaimed, stunned by the doubt he was hearing.

He turned to Monster, pointing dramatically.

"Freddie! I've seen you do stunts in the school play. There's a reason they call you 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿!"

Monster smirked and, without missing a beat, broke into a series of breakdancing that left the group cheering.

"And 𝗞𝗶𝗱𝗼," Chase continued, "you tore up the dance floor at the showcase after-party last year."

"Oh, that was fun," Kiddo said with a laugh, spinning and breaking into an impromptu freestyle.

"Get it, Kiddo! Get it!" Tala hyped her up, clapping along.

Kiddo kept going, her energy infectious — until Smiles jokingly had to pull her aside.

"She won't stop- She won't- You need to stop." he laughed, and Kiddo finally relented, catching her breath.

Across the room, Moose and Tala locked eyes and shared a laugh, the tension in the group finally breaking.

"So when is it?" Kiddo asked, brushing hair out of her face, still a little breathless.

"That's the thing,"Andie explained, her tone more serious. "Nobody knows when or where

until a text message of the night of. So we have got to be 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆."

"Sounds good..." Moose said, but his voice held a hint of worry. "Director Collins would never let us rehearse here."

"Yeah, this style isn't exactly what he wants MSA to be known for," Tala added, arms crossed, nodding.

"Who said Collins has to know?" Andie said, flashing a sly smile. Chase held up a shiny silver key, his expression smug.

Tala's eyes widened.

"𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺."

"He's got the keys!" someone whispered in amazement.

"Borrowed. And copied," Andie said with a grin.

"MSA after hours," Moose laughed. "I like it."

"Alright, let's do this!" Tala shouted, her excitement contagious.

The room erupted into cheers, everyone riding the high of rebellion and possibility.

As the cheers died down, Chase clapped his hands together.

"Alright, people! Rehearsals start tomorrow. Be ready to work — because we're going to bring the heat!"

"Yeahhh!"

"Let's go!"

The group began gathering their things, still buzzing with excitement, as they prepared to head home. Outside, the sky had darkened, the stars just beginning to peek through — a fitting backdrop for the beginning of something new, something electric.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

𓆩❀𓆪

The doors of the studio swung open, releasing a burst of laughter and chatter into the cool night air. Tala and Moose stepped out with the rest of their newly formed crew, the evening humming with a newfound excitement. Their sneakers scuffed against the sidewalk as they jostled each other, lighthearted and loose, caught in the thrill of having finally decided to do something.

The crew scattered slowly, peeling off in pairs and groups toward their own homes, their goodbyes called over shoulders. Before long, only Tala and Moose remained, their pace naturally syncing as they strolled under the streetlights.

The night was gentle, the kind that made the city feel less rushed and more like a giant playground. Above them, the stars poked through the light-polluted sky, small but stubborn.

They walked for a while in easy conversation, laughing, teasing...

Then, after a quiet beat, Moose nudged Tala lightly with his elbow. "So," he said casually, "what do you think? About us forming a crew. About competing at The Streets."

Tala smiled but it was fleeting. She exhaled slowly, her breath puffing faintly in the air. "I like it," she said after a moment. "I really do. It's... amazing, actually. People are finally stepping out of the status quo, you know? Doing something real for once."

She kicked a small stone down the sidewalk, watching it skitter away. "But," she added, her voice dipping, "I'm worried too."

Moose glanced at her, sensing the shift in her tone but saying nothing yet.

"I mean," she continued, "we're using the school's dance studio without permission. If Director Collins finds out..." She winced just thinking about it. "Plus, what if people can't keep up? Balancing the crew, classes, everything else? Someone could get hurt. Someone could fail. It's not just the fun parts we have to think about."

Moose listened carefully, nodding along. Every few moments, he murmured a small sound of agreement, encouraging her to speak without trying to cut her off.

When Tala finally looked up at him, a little uncertain, Moose grinned—easy and bright. "You're not wrong," he said. "Things could get messy. Will get messy, probably." He shrugged, as if the mess was part of the magic. "But maybe that's what makes it worth it."

Tala arched an eyebrow, skeptical but curious.

He continued, his voice softer now. "When are we ever gonna get a chance to do something like this again? We get to actually live for once. Make friends we wouldn't have. Take risks. And..." He gave her a mock-serious look, adding with a teasing smile, "Most importantly, you and me finally get to dance 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧."

He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, and Tala laughed—bright, genuine, but it couldn't quite mask the blush rising in her cheeks. She ducked her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair.

Moose just grinned wider at the sight.

The conversation trickled off after that, but the quiet between them wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, full of unsaid things that didn't need to be spoken just yet. They walked close enough that their hands brushed now and then—an innocent, accidental touch that neither of them dared to turn into something more. Each time, Tala felt her heart skip a beat, and each time, neither of them pulled away.

author:

really short and simple today, im tired got back from school at 8 in the evening cuz i had to take care of a few things and im exhausted.