21 | the uglier the better

THE UGLIER THE BETTER

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Diana pushed open the double doors to the studio, the familiar scent of polished wood and faint traces of hairspray and perfume greeting her. The morning sunlight slanted in across the floor, casting long golden streaks that made the space feel both intimate and cinematic. It was the last day of studio rehearsal before the next live show—a day she had been simultaneously anticipating and dreading.

Her bag thumped softly against the floor as she set it down, the usual assortment of dance shoes, water bottles, and snacks spilling slightly from the top. She pulled out her phone, quickly texting Aspen a small update about the day. The chat was brief, lighthearted, and cheerful—Aspen's endless excitement over the movie premiere. Diana tucked her phone away, determined to focus, even though a part of her still replayed the premiere in her head.

She couldn't help the small twist of discomfort she felt remembering the night before. The whole experience had left her feeling uneasy. She pushed the thought aside, smoothing her skirt and putting a small, polite smile on her lips. She didn't need to think about it now, and she certainly didn't need to voice it to anyone.

Before she could dive into her own preparations, Grayson entered the studio, moving with his usual confident stride—but today, he was smiling, a brightness in his expression that seemed almost startling to Diana. After the past few days of tension and occasional arguments, seeing him this cheerful felt... disorienting. She blinked, hesitating slightly as he approached.

"Hey," he said, his voice casual but warm, and she noticed the way his brown eyes crinkled at the corners in a way that was hard not to respond to.

"Hey," Diana replied, her voice even, keeping the hint of nerves tucked behind a neutral smile.

"I loved the photos you posted," Grayson said next, as if that were all he needed to say to start the day.

"Oh... thanks," Diana replied, forcing a small laugh. She wanted to match his energy, even though part of her still felt off-center.

Grayson's grin widened. "Did you have fun last night?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze intent but not accusing.

Diana put on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, nodding. "I did. It was great," she said, keeping it short and simple. She didn't mention that she'd occasionally felt out of place, like she was playing a role more than truly experiencing the evening. She wanted to keep things smooth, keep the peace, and keep the focus on today.

"Good," Grayson said, sounding genuinely pleased. There was a brightness in his expression that made her pause just for a second, unsure of how to respond. The contrast between this happy, relaxed Grayson and the past few days of tension—of arguments, frustrations, and awkward silences—was stark, and she felt slightly thrown off. But again, she kept her words careful, measured. "Yeah," she murmured softly, letting the moment pass without comment.

"So," Grayson said, snapping his fingers gently as if drawing her back into the present, "ready to tango?"

Diana nodded and exhaled lightly, feeling the familiar blend of anticipation and nerves coil in her stomach. She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, checked the fit of her shoes, and stepped toward the center of the polished studio floor. This tango wasn't just a technical dance—it was a story of power, tension, and control. Every look, every movement, every brush of hands had to communicate the push and pull of dominance and surrender.

"Remember," Diana said, positioning herself with precision, "this dance isn't just about steps. It's about the tension between us—the give and take, the control, the power struggle. You have to feel it, not just show it."

Grayson's smirk returned, playful but edged with concentration. "I'm feeling it," he said, the words low and confident.

Their feet began moving in time with the music, a slow, measured rhythm that built immediately into the sensual tension of the Argentine tango. Diana felt the first brush of Grayson's hand along her back, the subtle pressure guiding her weight as she pivoted. She responded instinctively, letting her own hands trace along his shoulders, chest, and arms, playing into the dance as much as she was being led.

"Good," Diana murmured after a sharp pivot, feeling his hand press firmly at her waist. "Keep that control, but let me respond. Tango is a conversation."

"I know," Grayson replied, smirking just slightly. "Control... conversation... got it." His voice carried a teasing undertone, but she noticed the firmness of his hand and the intensity in his gaze.

They moved together across the floor, executing intricate turns, dips, and spins. Diana's back brushed against him at moments, his hand pressing along her hip in rhythm with the music. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline—the heat of the studio, the music pounding softly through the speakers, the subtle contact of Grayson's body close enough to sense each micro-movement.

"Perfect," Diana murmured after a particularly tight rotation. Her chest was rising and falling, the rhythm of the dance echoing in her bones. "That was exactly what I wanted—control, tension, energy."

Grayson chuckled lowly, his expression playful, yet there was a quiet intensity lingering in his movements. "You're demanding," he said with a grin, the sound low and teasing, though his hands held her in place with just a hint of possessiveness.

"Demanding, but fair," Diana replied, rolling her eyes slightly but smiling. The tension in their dance mirrored the tension in the studio—the give and take of dominance and response that the tango demanded.

They ran the next sequence, her movements flowing into his, his responses instinctive and precise. Diana led one quick pivot, hand sliding over his chest and up to his shoulder; he countered with a sweep of his own hand along her back and hip, guiding her into a deep, dramatic dip. Her body arched in response, the floor beneath them catching the momentum. The chemistry was electric, intimate, yet professional—she reminded herself of that, keeping her mind on the dance and not on the unsettling emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

"Beautiful," Diana breathed after a sharp spin, her eyes locking briefly with his. "You're getting it—the tension, the connection... it's all there. Just a little more edge, a little more intensity, and we're golden."

Grayson leaned just a fraction closer, his smirk widening. "Edge, intensity... got it. You make it sound so easy."

Diana laughed softly, breathless but focused. "It's not easy," she said, her tone almost reverent. "Tango isn't just steps. It's the energy between us, the power struggle, the story. Every movement has meaning. Every touch has intention."

He nodded, his hand brushing over her waist with careful precision as they shifted into another sequence. Each dip, each turn, each pivot was executed with meticulous attention. The music swelled, and for a moment, all other thoughts—the premiere, the small pangs of discomfort she had felt, even the residual tension of past arguments—faded into the rhythm of the tango.

Diana slung her bag over her shoulder as she stepped out of the studio, letting the cool evening air hit her face. The day had been intense—hours of tango rehearsals, spinning and pivoting across the floor—but she felt exhilarated, alive with the rhythm still buzzing in her veins. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down, a small smile spreading across her face when she saw the notification.

It was a DM.

She tapped it open.

4:27 PM

hey! you still at rehearsal?

just got out! what's up?

so, I'm supposed to head home in a few days... 😭and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out before I go?

UH of course! are you free now?

totally free! just got back from a little run and showeredready for mischief 😎

perfecthow do you feel about shopping?

ooooh, yesalways yesclothes, shoes, makeup... maybe even a weird hat or two?

exactly what I was thinkinglet's make it a challengewho can find the most ridiculous thing in the store?

dealloser buys ice cream!

you're on 😏

Diana slipped her phone back into her bag, her heart lighter than it had been all day. The energy from the studio, all the intensity of rehearsal, began to fade as she imagined the afternoon ahead—shopping, laughter, and just carefree time with a friend.

She smiled to herself, already anticipating the ridiculous hats, the silly selfies, and the ice cream they'd inevitably devour while critiquing each other's choices.

She couldn't wait.

Diana spotted Freya right away when she walked into the mall. The fifteen-year-old was standing at the entrance with a tote bag slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, and her grin so wide it could light up the whole plaza.

"Di!" Freya called, waving both arms like Diana might somehow miss her.

Diana laughed, walking over. "You know, you don't have to wave like you're trying to flag down an airplane."

Freya just shrugged, still grinning. "What can I say? I'm excited. This is our first proper girls' hangout, and I'm making it memorable."

"Well," Diana teased, "if your goal is to embarrass me in public, you're succeeding already."

"Perfect," Freya said, slipping her arm through Diana's. "Now let's shop until our wallets cry."

They started in one of the bigger fashion stores, the kind that had everything—from chic dresses to outrageous graphic tees. The two drifted down aisles together, pulling things out at random.

"Okay," Freya declared, eyes glittering, "we're going to make this interesting. We each have to pick one outfit for ourselves and one for each other. Ridiculous as possible."

Diana arched a brow. "So we're just going to humiliate ourselves in the dressing room?"

"Exactly," Freya said with absolute seriousness.

It didn't take long. Diana grabbed a pair of sequined gold pants and a leopard print crop top for Freya, while Freya gleefully handed Diana a hot pink tutu layered over striped leggings and a neon graphic tee that said Drama Queen.

"Payback is going to be sweet," Freya said, clutching her own bag of finds.

"Oh, just wait until you see what I picked for myself," Diana teased.

Diana stepped out of the dressing room first. She had squeezed into a pair of leather pants two sizes too small and an oversized shirt covered in cartoon kittens. Freya took one look and doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"You look like—like—" She couldn't even finish through her laughter.

Diana rolled her eyes, but she was laughing too. "Don't hold back, really."

Then Freya came out in the outfit Diana had chosen: the gold pants and leopard print top. She strutted dramatically, hand on her hip like she was on a runway. People nearby actually stopped to watch.

Diana clapped slowly, biting her lip to keep from losing it. "You look like... a disco ball that got into a fight with the jungle."

Freya posed. "And won."

Back in the dressing rooms, they switched to their next outfits. Diana emerged in the tutu, leggings, and Drama Queen shirt. She struck a pose but immediately cracked up.

Freya literally dropped to her knees laughing. "I can't—oh my god—Di, you look like a psychotic ballerina from an alternate universe."

"You picked this!" Diana reminded her, trying not to laugh at her own reflection.

"I regret nothing," Freya said between giggles.

When Freya stepped out in her self-selected outfit, Diana lost it completely. Freya had gone all in: a neon green furry jacket over polka-dotted leggings, with a giant floppy sunhat and sparkly boots. She looked like three holidays had collided in one person.

Diana burst out laughing so hard she had to hold onto the wall. "Oh my god. Freya—" She wheezed between laughs. "You win. That is the ugliest thing I've ever seen in my life!"

Freya spun in a little circle, clearly proud of herself. "Thank you, thank you. I'd like to thank the clearance rack for making this moment possible."

"You look like Big Bird's cooler younger sister," Diana choked out, still laughing.

"Iconic," Freya said, striking a pose.

They spent another hour going through racks, pulling random things for each other to try. Diana made Freya attempt a dramatic red gown five sizes too big, while Freya dared Diana to put on sequined pants that looked like they belonged to a disco ball. They took pictures of each other in the mirror, laughing until their cheeks hurt.

By the time they decided they were done, both were carrying at least one bag of things they genuinely liked. Diana had gotten a new workout set, while Freya picked a pair of jeans and a cute cardigan.

"Okay," Freya declared, "ice cream time. You owe me for being the champion of ugly outfits."

"Fair enough," Diana said, still smiling as they headed toward the food court.

They settled into a small booth with their cups—chocolate for Diana, strawberry for Freya. The air smelled faintly of sugar and waffle cones, and the chatter of the mall buzzed around them.

"So," Freya said, spooning ice cream into her mouth with exaggerated seriousness, "how's rehearsal been?"

Diana smiled, leaning back against the booth. "Good. Busy. Tiring, but... good."

Freya nodded, her eyes sparkling like she already had a follow-up question. And sure enough, a sly little smirk curved her lips. "And have you been talking to Malachi?"

Diana blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Freya raised a brow, leaning forward on her elbows. "Don't 'what' me. You know exactly what I mean. Have you two been texting?"

Diana tried to play it cool, but her lips twitched. "We've... exchanged a few texts."

"Mhm." Freya hummed, her smirk deepening. "That's what I thought."

Diana gave her a look. "What are you getting at?"

"Oh, nothing," Freya said innocently, then ruined it with her next words. "Except... you know he's always talking about you, right?"

Diana froze, her spoon hovering mid-air. "That's not true."

"It is true," Freya insisted, grinning. "Like, literally every time I'm around him, your name comes up. He's always like, 'Diana did this,' or, 'Diana said that.' It's honestly kind of cute."

Diana's cheeks went the tiniest bit pink, and she quickly scooped more ice cream to distract herself. "We're just friends."

Freya laughed, nodding like she was humoring her. "Right. Just friends."

They sat in silence for a beat, the mall noise filling the air. Freya then leaned back, her expression softening. "Just so you know... I'm rooting for you two."

Diana shook her head, laughing softly, though her blush hadn't faded. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," Freya said, grinning again. "But I'm not wrong."

They finished their ice cream, still chatting about random things—Freya's excitement about going back to England, Diana sharing a funny story from rehearsal, and their ongoing debate over which ugly outfit had been worse.

When their ice cream was gone, Freya jumped up. "Round two of shopping?"

Diana groaned playfully but stood too, grabbing her bag. "You're going to drain my wallet."

"That's what friends are for," Freya said cheekily, looping her arm through Diana's again as they headed toward another set of stores.

Diana just shook her head, laughing, but deep down, she was grateful. For the shopping, the laughter, and even Freya's teasing about Malachi—the kind of easy, lighthearted moment she hadn't realized how much she needed.

dianasinclair just posted !

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liked by malachibarton and 398,680 more

dianasinclair shopping & ice cream with my fav 💞

tagged: freyaskye

user love this unexpected duo

user literally big sis + little sis     liked by creator

freyaskye so much fun 🥰     dianasinclair 😘

user the zombies cup 🥹

malachibarton WITHOUT ME????      freyaskye sorry (not really)

malachibarton i thought i was your fav     dianasinclair ohhhhh... no            user LOL

ezra.sosa i would like an invite next time     freyaskye of course!!!           malachibarton wow...

user malachi losing his shit is killing me

graysonholt cute 😍      dianasinclair 😊

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3 chapters today, bc why not!

i totally forgot i wrote this but gotta love a girls day!

plus diana got to have some fun that didn't involve boys or dance

also, obviously diana is gonna respond to graysons comments and stuff because they are still on the show, and the more they post and interact, the more fans are willing to vote for themso even if it seems like diana's interested in him, she's not, it's for the fans and the show

also also, she is starting to see his toxic nature but she's not gonna just openly say something because she doesn't want drama her first season! if you are a fan of dwts, then you know that just because you're a pro one season, does not guarantee that you will be a pro the next.this is diana's dream, and she doesn't want to mess it up, so she's gonna stay quiet and just go along with it (even though she shouldn't) because she wants to be able to continue being a pro

so yeah😊