Chapter Text
the day she left was probably the worst day of your life. as dramatic as it sounds, you had completely lost her. she didn’t leave—she vanished.
you called, texted, you even showed up to her house. four times. the house was empty every visit.
her social media accounts were entirely wiped. like she had never existed.
one day, she was your girlfriend who you adored. the next, a complete stranger.
weeks had passed, and you slowly began to give up. what were daily messages became silent check-ins. still, all you had left of her was what was left of her identity on google—which amounted to a few childhood photos.
you tried to move on, you really did. if daniela could run without a word, then she wasn’t ever the person you loved.
part of you would always ache though. she was the first person you truly longed for. you had spent your entire high school experience with her. you met on your first day of freshman year.
your locker was right next to hers. daniela wasn’t nearly as nervous as you were. “do we have the same combination?” she asked curiously.
“do we?” your voice was thoughtful.
your combinations were not at all the same. she pretended you shared the same one after peering over you to see yours. she held her locker open just enough that it wouldn’t lock, but not too much that you could see.
“seems like we’re matching,” she laughed.
your personalities clicked quickly. so fast that the years flew by with you.
you were both seniors when she left. what was supposed to be two weeks of dates and warm moments became the emptiest point for you. your winter break was isolating, to say the least.
going back to school was worse, though. every class you had together felt weird. other students asked you where she went, and all you wanted was to yell at them that you had no fucking clue.
the day you really moved on was your graduation. not a single trace of her there. leading up to that day, you still had a slight bit of hope she would come back. you wouldn’t admit it, but you held onto her deeply.
however, it felt like a sign to leave just as she did then.
the next year passed without too many reminders of avanzini. there were a few times family would ask about your “good friend,” but besides them, daniela was completely out of mind for you.
it was early september when you saw her face again. you and your closest friend were sitting at the public library studying with nothing except fall leaves for background noise.
the quietness of the setting made every small noise loud. when whispers sounded, it was pretty hard to not eavesdrop.
“did you watch the performance yet?” a voice could be heard.
“oh my god, yes, which was your favorite?” now, another, this time deeper.
as much as you wanted to tune it out, it was impossible for you to quiet your curiosity.
“pink venom, for sure, did you see the curly-haired girl?”
“yeah, daniela? she was crazy.”
stop.
your throat tightened.
you knew it couldn’t be your daniela.
it had to have been a coincidence that she also had curly hair. you shook your head, it couldn’t be. you moved on, deciding to focus again on your work.
as you reached to put your headphones over your ears, you heard one of the voices again.
“i heard she’s from atlanta. she’s been dancing since she was a baby apparently.”
it couldn’t be.
really, how could it be the same curly-haired, dancer named daniela from atlanta as yours. atlanta is big enough for two, you told yourself.
“avanzini is her last name, yeah?” the deep voice spit.
your heart skipped a beat.
your pupils dilated, lungs swelled, and your stomach sank.
your hands seemed to have let go of the headphones, dropping them onto the ground with the sound echoing throughout the library.
you coughed a few times, trying to get back to consciousness. “uh, sorry,” you whispered to the crowd of turned heads.
you quickly picked them up, but you could barely feel yourself moving. it felt as if your heart was stuck somewhere else. and it wasn’t with your body. it was stuck with someone.
“y/n, are you good?” your friend asked, with a clearly concerned look on their face. you nodded, assuringly. you weren’t sure whether you were trying to reassure your friend or yourself.
when you returned to your apartment later that evening, your first thought was to search her up.
“mission… pink, god what was it?” you groaned out in frustration, slamming the table a few times.
“pink v-” you tried sounding out what you remembered. “venom?”
slowly, you pressed enter.
and sure enough, there she was. in all her glory, daniela avanzini was on your screen again.
she looked normal. happy, even.
part of you wanted to close the tab before it sunk in. but you couldn’t hide from this.
her movements were perfect. you could tell that she got better at dancing since you last saw her. as her eyes connected with the camera, a shiver ran down your spine. memories flooded back.
your thoughts raced. that overwhelming feeling of desperation. the same kind you felt that winter.
you couldn’t do much more than just stare. even if you texted her, she wouldn’t respond. you wanted to reach out through the screen. like you could just pull her back to you.
as the clock hit 10, you happened to see a recently uploaded post by dream academy on instagram.
your eyes scrolled through the photos. then the description.
“we are happy to announce that the contestants of dream academy will be at a pop-up event this friday at [location] in los angeles. come with questions ready—we’re excited to see you there.”
you blinked as if the words would disappear. they didn’t. you tried rereading, maybe it was fake. maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. it was all still there. her name, and your city.
a part of you knew how terrible of an idea it would be to go. to see her. for the first time in a crowd of who knows how many people.
and if she somehow saw you? then what?
the more reasonable side of yourself was screaming to get you to stay home.
you’d moved on, you were happy now. why entertain this? she’s her own person.
as you went back and forth with yourself, your thoughts raced. but one thing was certain.
daniela avanzini would be just down the street in less than 48 hours.