So You Think You Can Dance Update ... Epilogue

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Six Years Later … Cullen Dance Academy Auditorium

“That’s beautiful, girls,” I shouted from the audience. “Remember to reach for the stars as you are turning. Wonderful! Big finish and the crowd goes wild!” I clapped excitedly as my class of nine to ten-year-old beginning ballet students curtsied on the stage of our privately-owned auditorium. “You were all amazing. Change out of your ballet shoes and you’re free to go. The big show is tomorrow and I have no doubt that you will do wonderfully.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cullen,” the chimed, skipping off the stage. I waved as I watched them change, running to their parents who were standing outside of the auditorium. The only people allowed in for dress rehearsals were me, Edward, sound and light technicians and Esme. No parents allowed. I wanted them to be surprised for their children’s performances. I limped over to my table, taking some ibuprofen.

“Beautiful wife,” barked my husband. “I just met with a reporter from the Times. He’s coming with a photographer to come do an interview about The Cullen Dance Academy, promoting our upcoming showcase.”

“Each showcase, it’s getting bigger and bigger,” I said, lifting my foot and massaging my knee.

“You in pain?” he asked, draping my leg over his lap.

“Yeah. One downfall in living in Chicago. This humidity is killer on my bones,” I snorted. “But, I’d rather live here than in Los Angeles. I missed having seasons.”

“I’m certain that Helga can squeeze you in,” Edward quipped, winking at me.

“Ugh, no,” I groaned. “It’s just residual pain. I pushed it too hard yesterday with my advanced jazz class.” Leaning my cheek against the chair, I smiled at my husband. “How was your rehearsal this morning?”

“Good. I think that the company finally gets my vision for the dances. It only took two weeks,” he said, rolling his eyes. In addition to being the primary choreographer for the Cullen Dance Academy, Edward was also a sought-after Broadway choreographer. He was working mainly with Chicago productions, but would fly out every month or so to work with productions on Broadway. He was even nominated for a Tony for his work on the revival of Anything Goes. He didn’t win, but the nomination made him quite popular.

In our partnership, I was the head of the Cullen Dance Academy, coordinating schedules of our various teachers, taking in new students and placing them in appropriate classes and maintaining the books. I was putting my education degree to use, but not in the way I had planned. I also choreographed for our advanced students, but I loved teaching the little ones the joy of dance. If it weren’t for my early teachers, I wouldn’t have pushed myself so hard to be a dancer.

“Are you going to be there for the opening?” I asked, picking up his hand and twisting his wedding band.

“Only with you by my side, Mrs. Cullen,” he said, kissing me gently. “The opening is in two weeks. It’s a black-tie affair and I want you to get all gussied up. The last time I saw you in something other than yoga pants was our wedding day.”

“Shut up. I dress up,” I laughed, smacking his chest. “I’ll be dressed for this showcase, Edward.”

“In a cocktail dress. I’m talking about you wearing a gown, with your hair curled and looking like a queen,” he said, moving me so I was on his lap. “I still have dreams of our wedding day. It was a magical, perfect day.”

“It was,” I smiled, kissing him. “I love you, hubby.”

“I love you, too, wifey,” he growled, his hand palming my ass. 

Inspiration for Bella an Edward's Wedding

So You Think You Can Dance Update

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Packing up my belongings and moving across the country freaked the shit out of me. My new job didn’t begin until mid-April, but I wanted to make sure that Bella and I were settled in our new home in the suburbs of Los Angeles. I decided to sublet my condo to Peter. He was taking a part in Hamilton, thanks to Lauren’s help. He’d live in my condo until his contract was up in the following year.

“Edward, I don’t think we’ll need this mountain of winter weather gear,” Bella laughed in our closet. “I looked at the weather and it’s in the mid-seventies.”

“We can leave it here. Peter said he was just going to stay in one of the guest rooms. He seemed squicked out at sleeping in our porn palace,” I said, poking my head in the closet. Bella was blushing, giving me a glower. “What? You have to admit, we’ve been going at it like bunnies since Christmas.”

“That’s because you’re horny,” she quipped. “And to be honest, so am I.” She winked at me, folding more of my t-shirts and placed them into an open suitcase next to her. “When will the moving truck get here?”

“They said early tomorrow morning,” I explained. “We need to get a move on.”

“Edward, we’re only moving our clothes and some personal items,” she said.

“And my car,” I argued. “If there is one ding on that baby, I’ll be pissed.”

“I swear, you love that car more than me,” she laughed, closing the bag and standing up stiffly. She was getting stronger and was starting to take some beginning classes at my mom’s studio. Once we arrived at Los Angeles, Carmen was going to take over her training, working with some local dance studios.

“I love you more than anything in my world, pretty girl,” I said, taking her into my arms. “Do you need some ice?”

“I’m fine. I was just sitting too long,” she said, kissing my chin. “I’m going to the gym with Jake in a bit. You have an office to pack up, mister.”

“What are you doing with Jake?” I asked as she changed into a pair of yoga pants and a tight tank top. “You better not be running. Helga hasn’t given you approval to run yet.”

“I’m not running,” she said, twisting her hair into a messy bun. “Jogging, yes. Running, no. I’m also doing some strength training on my legs. Jake is gentle with me. I rather work with him than Helga. Ugh, I won’t miss her.”

“Helga did give us some recommendations to use in Los Angeles. She’s got a sister, Hildy,” I teased.

“No. Thank. You,” Bella sang, putting on her sneakers and a knee brace around her left leg. “Alistair said he was going to have work with one of the physical therapists from the show. She’s new. Her name is McKenna and specializes in working with dancers with significant injuries. I have no doubt that she’ll whip me back into shape.” Her phone rang and she picked it up. “Jake? I’m on my way down. Just reminding Edward to pack up the office.” She kissed me and tugged on her winter coat. “See you in a bit, Jake.” Tossing her phone into a pocket. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. The shredder has been emptied and the bubble wrap is in the dining room. Love you, baby.”

“Love you more, Bella,” I said, kissing her lips and watching as she breezed out of the condo.

So You Think You Can Dance

Packing up my belongings and moving across the country freaked the shit out of me. My new job didn’t begin until mid-April, but I wanted to make sure that Bella and I were settled in our new home in the suburbs of Los Angeles. I decided to sublet my condo to Peter. He was taking a part in Hamilton, thanks to Lauren’s help. He’d live in my condo until his contract was up in the following year.

“Edward, I don’t think we’ll need this mountain of winter weather gear,” Bella laughed in our closet. “I looked at the weather and it’s in the mid-seventies.”

“We can leave it here. Peter said he was just going to stay in one of the guest rooms. He seemed squicked out at sleeping in our porn palace,” I said, poking my head in the closet. Bella was blushing, giving me a glower. “What? You have to admit, we’ve been going at it like bunnies since Christmas.”

“That’s because you’re horny,” she quipped. “And to be honest, so am I.” She winked at me, folding more of my t-shirts and placed them into an open suitcase next to her. “When will the moving truck get here?”

“They said early tomorrow morning,” I explained. “We need to get a move on.”

“Edward, we’re only moving our clothes and some personal items,” she said.

“And my car,” I argued. “If there is one ding on that baby, I’ll be pissed.”

“I swear, you love that car more than me,” she laughed, closing the bag and standing up stiffly. She was getting stronger and was starting to take some beginning classes at my mom’s studio. Once we arrived at Los Angeles, Carmen was going to take over her training, working with some local dance studios.

“I love you more than anything in my world, pretty girl,” I said, taking her into my arms. “Do you need some ice?”

“I’m fine. I was just sitting too long,” she said, kissing my chin. “I’m going to the gym with Jake in a bit. You have an office to pack up, mister.”

“What are you doing with Jake?” I asked as she changed into a pair of yoga pants and a tight tank top. “You better not be running. Helga hasn’t given you approval to run yet.”

“I’m not running,” she said, twisting her hair into a messy bun. “Jogging, yes. Running, no. I’m also doing some strength training on my legs. Jake is gentle with me. I rather work with him than Helga. Ugh, I won’t miss her.”

“Helga did give us some recommendations to use in Los Angeles. She’s got a sister, Hildy,” I teased.

“No. Thank. You,” Bella sang, putting on her sneakers and a knee brace around her left leg. “Alistair said he was going to have work with one of the physical therapists from the show. She’s new. Her name is McKenna and specializes in working with dancers with significant injuries. I have no doubt that she’ll whip me back into shape.” Her phone rang and she picked it up. “Jake? I’m on my way down. Just reminding Edward to pack up the office.” She kissed me and tugged on her winter coat. “See you in a bit, Jake.” Tossing her phone into a pocket. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. The shredder has been emptied and the bubble wrap is in the dining room. Love you, baby.”

“Love you more, Bella,” I said, kissing her lips and watching as she breezed out of the condo. 

So You Think You Can Dance Update

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“Thank you, Dr. Fredericks,” I said, getting up from the all-too-comfortable beige sofa in the warm, inviting psychiatrist’s office. It had become my best friend during the past two months. After the disastrous outing on Halloween and my complete blow up with Esme, I finally went to go see a psychiatrist. Dr. Fredericks worked collaboratively with Dr. Eleazar and we discussed my injury, how I was healing, coping mechanisms for my anger and coming up with a game plan if I am unable to dance, in any way.

It would appear that I would be using my teaching degree. It was a great place holder, but not my dream. Dancing was my dream. It was always my dream.

Was I better? Yes, and coming to grips with my new reality.

Was I bitter? Definitely.

Especially when it came to seeing people that I loved dance. Edward told me he was going to step back from dancing and choreographing, but after speaking with Dr. Fredericks, he felt that it would hinder my healing. So, I was bitter and pissed at my boyfriend. Even though he was my biggest cheerleader.

He even put on a damned cheerleader uniform, doing some crazy routine. I laughed hysterically, but in the back of my mind, I was still upset because he could do it.

Granted, I was getting better physically. My limp was almost nonexistent and I was working on rebuilding lost muscle. Helga was an overbearing task master, but she still was not positive that I was going to dance again. I was going to out-stubborn her and prove her wrong. Though, there were days that I almost believed her.

They were more often than not.

Slipping my purse over my shoulder as I slipped out of the office, I smiled at Carlisle who was waiting for me in the waiting room. He was taking me to physical therapy today. Edward was out shopping for Christmas presents with Peter, Lauren and Jasper. Peter had broken up with his longtime boyfriend, Charlie, and was staying in Lauren’s apartment until he could get back on his feet. She’d started a run, performing with the Chicago company of Hamilton. Jasper, who was now dating Lauren, was working with Esme since Edward refused to do any work on any sort of showcase.

Rose and Emmett were in Seattle, but were planning on moving to Chicago after the lease was up. Rose had packed up all my belongings and had them shipped to Chicago. She sold the furniture with my blessing, but my clothes, computer and other personal items arrived shortly before Thanksgiving. Edward helped me integrate them into his home, making it our home. He even insisted on having me redecorate our bedroom. I was hesitant at first, thinking that it was a waste of money. However, it helped us laugh and have fun as a couple while we painted the walls a warm grey-beige color and decorated with soft blues, creams and greys. It reflected us as a couple and not Edward as a bachelor, which was cold and stark with black furniture and white walls.

He kissed me. “Thank you for making my house into our home,” he whispered as we put the final pillow on our bed. I blushed, still thinking that he was going to kick me to the curb, but I pushed that thinking behind me. With a lot of discussion with Dr. Fredericks, I worked on not focusing on the negative. Edward was not like anyone else in my life. My mother made me feel like I was disposable, but I’m not. That was what I was working on in therapy. I was getting better, but there were moments when I couldn’t kick those feelings. 

Edward and Bella's renovated bedroom

Carlisle and Esme's home in Chicago

Carlisle and Esme's Living Room

Kitchen

Solarium

Center Pieces

Family Room

Dining Room

Edward's Present to Bella

So You Think You Can Dance Teaser

“Thank you, Dr. Fredericks,” I said, getting up from the all-too-comfortable beige sofa in the warm, inviting psychiatrist’s office. It had become my best friend during the past two months. After the disastrous outing on Halloween and my complete blow up with Esme, I finally went to go see a psychiatrist. Dr. Fredericks worked collaboratively with Dr. Eleazar and we discussed my injury, how I was healing, coping mechanisms for my anger and coming up with a game plan if I am unable to dance, in any way.

It would appear that I would be using my teaching degree. It was a great place holder, but not my dream. Dancing was my dream. It was always my dream.

Was I better? Yes, and coming to grips with my new reality.

Was I bitter? Definitely.

Especially when it came to seeing people that I loved dance. Edward told me he was going to step back from dancing and choreographing, but after speaking with Dr. Fredericks, he felt that it would hinder my healing. So, I was bitter and pissed at my boyfriend. Even though he was my biggest cheerleader.

He even put on a damned cheerleader uniform, doing some crazy routine. I laughed hysterically, but in the back of my mind, I was still upset because he could do it.

Granted, I was getting better physically. My limp was almost nonexistent and I was working on rebuilding lost muscle. Helga was an overbearing task master, but she still was not positive that I was going to dance again. I was going to out-stubborn her and prove her wrong. Though, there were days that I almost believed her.

They were more often than not.

Slipping my purse over my shoulder as I slipped out of the office, I smiled at Carlisle who was waiting for me in the waiting room. He was taking me to physical therapy today. Edward was out shopping for Christmas presents with Peter, Lauren and Jasper. Peter had broken up with his longtime boyfriend, Charlie, and was staying in Lauren’s apartment until he could get back on his feet. She’d started a run, performing with the Chicago company of Hamilton. Jasper, who was now dating Lauren, was working with Esme since Edward refused to do any work on any sort of showcase.

Rose and Emmett were in Seattle, but were planning on moving to Chicago after the lease was up. Rose had packed up all my belongings and had them shipped to Chicago. She sold the furniture with my blessing, but my clothes, computer and other personal items arrived shortly before Thanksgiving. Edward helped me integrate them into his home, making it our home. He even insisted on having me redecorate our bedroom. I was hesitant at first, thinking that it was a waste of money. However, it helped us laugh and have fun as a couple while we painted the walls a warm grey-beige color and decorated with soft blues, creams and greys. It reflected us as a couple and not Edward as a bachelor, which was cold and stark with black furniture and white walls.

He kissed me. “Thank you for making my house into our home,” he whispered as we put the final pillow on our bed. I blushed, still thinking that he was going to kick me to the curb, but I pushed that thinking behind me. With a lot of discussion with Dr. Fredericks, I worked on not focusing on the negative. Edward was not like anyone else in my life. My mother made me feel like I was disposable, but I’m not. That was what I was working on in therapy. I was getting better, but there were moments when I couldn’t kick those feelings. 

So You Think You Can Dance Update

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A couple of days later, I walked into a dance studio. I had just come from my physical therapy session and was loose, ready to choreograph the call-back piece for the dancers who didn’t quite make the cut to go straight to Los Angeles. I was dressed in a pair of workout pants and a fleece, bundled up for the harsh Chicago winter. It hadn’t snowed, but was brutally cold. It made me miss the warmth of Los Angeles. Reaching the studio that the producers rented out, I met up with Irina Kincaide, the winner from the season just before mine. I had, during the competition, been paired up with her for a Broadway number and had gotten rave reviews. She was tall, lithe and easy to work with.

“Hey, Edward,” she chirped, giving me a warm grin as she stretched out on the floor. “I see that they got to you.”

“I’m glad. I’ve wanted to choreograph my whole life. I’ve done a few things, but this is the biggest scale thing I’ve done. Ever,” I said, tossing my bag onto a chair. “Do you not like choreographing?”

“Not really. Do you want to take the lead on this?” she asked, standing up and moving to the barre, continuing her stretches. “We could do something that incorporates both contemporary, which is my strength and Latin ballroom, which is yours. Though, you can pretty much do whatever the fuck you want. According to Alistair, you shit gold.”

“Really?” I smirked. “That’s news to me. I’d be soooooo much richer if I did.” Irina laughed. “Do we have music?”

“We have a couple of choices,” Irina said, walking over to the sound system. “’Uptown Funk’ by Mark Ronson, ‘Thinking Out Loud,’ by Ed Sheeran, ‘Centuries,’ by Fall Out Boy and ‘Lips are Moving’ by Meghan Trainor.”

Chicago Theater

Emmett

Peter

Alice

Alice's Dress

Jasper

Maggie

Los Angeles Auditions