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It started of simple. Two innocent, tiny words put together in a calculated condescending way after he walked into the studio and delivered a whole bunch of new choreography that was supposed to be innovative.
Abigail knew from the first count that Ethan had created it thinking of Tara and Tara only, but he Academy’s sweetheart was busy with a job – an actual dance job – so he needed to cast someone else and from the moment he saw her among the others, he assumed it wouldn’t work.
“Wanna bet?” Abigail dared and Ethan sighed. He had seen that girl feud for year and she was great, but she wasn’t the kind of dancer he was looking for.
“You won’t like it, Abby.” He assured her. Because it was edgy and sensitive and she had always been a tad of a cold ass bitch.
He didn’t need to say it, though, for Abigail knew damn well the kind of person she led people think she was. Other than that, she was willing to prove herself that she could do edgy and sensitive. If Tara Webster could book a job with her terrible knee, so could she, with a convincing performance and perfect technique.
Those two innocent, tiny words weren’t a dare to Ethan or any other people. It was her own desire to be larger than herself.
Those two innocent, tiny words on a Saturday afternoon took Abigail Armstrong far.