Face The Music

Broadway Bombshell

Oh, hey! I didn't see you there. Life is crazy-busy, like always. But since you're just sitting there, do you want to hear a little about me? Actually, who am I kidding? Of course you want to hear all about me!

For starters, I'm Denali, and I do it all. I've been singing, dancing, and acting my whole life. I'm a triple threat to everyone around me. I've gotten the lead role in every school play, won first place in nearly every dance competition, and before I got too busy to do pageants, I won the Ultimate Grand Supreme title every time.

Besides all that, I'm an up-and coming-influencer. With this much beauty and this much talent, how could I not be? My followers on TikTok and Insta are close to a million combined. Everything in my life is seriously amazing. What could possibly go wrong, you might ask?

A lot. The answer is a hell of a lot.

One fall night in my junior year, I was finishing up my last dance class for the evening. It was Tuesday, and Wednesday was the day I got a break from dance to do voice lessons. We were rehearsing a number for our competition that weekend, but I wasn't feeling it. The only thing I felt was super nauseated.

I wanted to stick it out since this weekend's competition was a big one: regionals. I had to keep going, but my reflection in the mirror was telling me otherwise. I was going really, really pale. My face was turning from brown to white. I can do this. Professionals keep dancing, no matter what.

I was right in the middle of my special part of the routine, and I tossed my dinner all over my brand new tap shoes. It was extra disgusting because my dinner was a plate of mac and cheese.

My friends and teammates were gasping and running away from me in horror. I was so humiliated that being professional suddenly went out the window. I told my teacher, Marcus, that I was leaving and ran out the door and into my car in those barf-covered tap shoes.

It wasn't until I was halfway home that I realized I probably should've offered to clean up the floor. I don't know what poor soul in that dance studio had to get stuck with that. I secretly wished it was my biggest competition and arch nemesis: Addie.

I zoomed past the sign to my exclusive neighborhood: Manor Hill. I drove by the Hetcher mansion, and three houses down, I stopped at my driveway. After punching in the gate code, the gate slid open. I pulled up in the circular driveway next to the fountain, then swung the door open. My shoes smelled so gross.

I took off my tap shoes, ran across the driveway in my socks, and yeeted those puke-covered things into the trash can. My mom was going to be pissed since she just bought them, but a new pair was probably only a few hundred dollars.

I walked inside, my socks wet from the damp driveway. I took them off and left them by the door. This was literally one of the worst days of my life. All I wanted was some mouthwash and my jacuzzi tub.

"Deni? Is that you, babe?" I heard when I walked in the door.

"Yeah," I said.

I walked past the foyer and to the living room, where my mom was sitting on the couch. She was watching some cooking show on the ninety-inch curved TV. The surround sound was on. She grabbed the remote and paused it when she saw me.

"What are you doing back so early?" she asked.

"I...didn't feel good," I said. 

"Wow. You never leave dance. Do you think you got Covid from when you hung out with Aunt Abby on Friday?" she asked.

"No, I think I just have the stomach bug."

"Oh no. Hopefully it clears up before regionals this weekend. You worked so hard on your solo."

"I hope so, too. I'm gonna go take a hot bath." I said, leaving the room as fast as possible. "Also I need new tap shoes!"

"Alright. Go rest. Wait, what?"

I went upstairs to my bathroom and placed my gross clothes in the wash. I turned on the jacuzzi tub, loaded it up with bubbles, and sank into it when it was ready. I had some music playing in the background when my mom came in a few minutes later.

"Mom, gross!" I said, trying to cover myself up.

"I'm literally your mom and you're covered in bubbles. Chill out, girlfriend," she said. "And what happened to your tap shoes?"

"I need new ones."

"I know that. But what happened to the brand new ones you got last week?"

"I threw up on them. They're trashed."

"Okay. I'll go get another pair." She huffed and picked up my wastebasket. "You filled this thing up again? I may as well empty it since I'm here."

"That's fine," I said, laying back into the tub.

She left with my wastebasket, and then it hit me. Wait...the trash? My trash? My trash that I really needed to conceal because it had that thing in it? That thing that was going to ruin my entire performing career, and possibly the rest of my life?

"No...no...I buried it with tissues. She won't notice," I said, taking a deep breath.

I just let myself relax. Everything would be fine. Hudson would go with me to the clinic, we'd get it taken care of next week, and no one would ever know. I'd go back to being the star I was born to be. Beyonce, Arianna, and Billie all needed to step aside and make room for Denali.

The door flew open. I sat straight up and screamed, kind of like that meme of Squidward screaming in the bathtub with Spongebob and Patrick just chilling in the doorway. But this was different. My mom was in the doorway. Her face was red. She was holding it in her hands.

Shit. I've lived a good life up until now. I really have.

"Denali Skye Andrews, would you mind telling me what this is?" she asked.

"Uh...Natty's?" I said.

"Natalia hasn't been here since Saturday. I emptied this on Sunday. Nice try."

I grabbed my bathrobe and wrapped it around myself as I got out of the tub. My mom had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot. I grabbed a towel and put my wet hair up in it. What was I really supposed to say?

"It'll be fine. I've got an appointment set up for next week at Planned Parenthood."

"For an abortion?"

"Duh. What else? I'm sixteen and halfway to Broadway. I'm not letting a baby get in the way of that!"

"How far along are you?" she asked.

"Don't know. Don't care. Thankfully we don't have that crazy six-week ban like some of those red states. I'll be fine."

"Deni, I don't want to sway you either way, but abortions can still have complications. Just...take some time to think about it."

"I did think about it. I'm getting one, and that's it. I'll be going to my room now," I said.

I didn't say another word as I walked past her and into my room, slamming the door and locking it behind me. Did she really think I was going to reconsider? I had my whole life ahead of me. Of course I was going to get an abortion instead of being sixteen and pregnant.

She started knocking on my door, and I covered my face with my pillow.

"What?" I yelled. "Go. Away."

"Deni, who's the father?" she asked.

I tried to hold back my tears. I felt so embarrassed.

"If you really want to know...it's Hudson," I said.

"What? Hudson? Your—"

"Yes, mom! My gay best friend! My gay best friend that I talked into having sex with me while we were drunk at Natty's birthday party two months ago. That Hudson."