The hall buzzed with murmurs as another judge entered the studio. Rico Jackson—renowned dancer and choreographer—stepped in, taking his place at the judges' panel. His eyes scanned the room casually before settling into his chair. With a slight nod, he signaled for the next performance to begin.
Ameya—no, Jenna—stood backstage, her heart pounding. Her palms were damp with sweat as she slowly walked toward the center of the dance floor. One step at a time. Her mind swirled with thoughts.
"What should I dance? What if I fail? What if… Wait… yes. I'll do what I performed during my college cultural fest!"
Then her heart skipped a beat.
"No... I can't. Jackson was one of the judges back then. He might recognize it... But I haven't prepared anything else. This is my only chance. My dream is standing right here. I'll do it. Whatever happens, I'll give it my all."
The music began.
And Ameya danced.
Her body moved with grace, rhythm, and raw emotion. Every spin, every step, every stretch echoed with her story—her truth. The room fell into a heavy silence. Not even the judges whispered. Rico Jackson's gaze narrowed as he watched her, stunned and captivated.
As the final note faded, Ameya slowly came to a stop, breathing heavily. A second of silence lingered.
Then—applause. Loud. Roaring. Enthusiastic.
Among the cheers, one voice rose above the rest.
"I know you," said Rico Jackson, rising from his seat. "I mean—I've seen this performance before..."
Ameya's heart dropped. Her hands trembled. She shoved them deep into her pockets, trying to hide the shaking.
Rico tilted his head but then simply smiled. "Anyway… nice. Really great. Keep it up. We're expecting more from you."
With that, he turned and exited the studio.
The other judges nodded, offering their compliments to "Jenna."
Her friends rushed around her.
"Nice moves, Jenna!" one said cheerfully.
But Ruby raised an eyebrow. "When we auditioned… your performance was totally different. Still… I liked this one way more."
Ameya let out a deep breath, smiling softly.
---
Days passed.
Ameya trained relentlessly with her group, but her thoughts drifted—again and again—to her real family. Her home. Her true identity.
That night, as she lay in bed, questions spun through her mind.
"I didn't time travel… right? Was I teleported? But teleporting means going from one place to another—not changing bodies. In my case, the year is the same... and the calendar too. So… does that mean my family still exists? In the same place?"
She sat up. Her heart raced. "Maybe I can find them. Maybe I can go home."
Quietly, she got out of bed. She tiptoed to the door and opened it slowly. After confirming her dormmates were asleep, she slipped out, carrying only her phone, money, and a backpack.
She traveled through the night.
By morning, she reached her hometown. Her legs moved on instinct, racing through the familiar streets. She stood at the doorstep of her old home. Her hand hesitated above the door, then knocked loudly.
"MOM! DAD! SIS!"
No response.
She knocked again. Still nothing. Panic crept in.
Just as she braced herself to break the door, a voice from behind startled her.
"Who are you? Why are you shouting?"
She turned. It was a neighbor. An old auntie she knew well.
Ameya smiled nervously. "Do you remember me, aunt…? I'm Ame—" She stopped herself.
No. She couldn't say her real name.
"I mean… I'm looking for the people who lived here."
The aunt squinted. "They moved out. Said they were shifting for their daughter's education. Didn't tell me where exactly."
Ameya froze.
Her eyes welled with tears, though she didn't even realize it. Her lips parted, but no words came. The aunt gave her a sympathetic look and returned to her house.
Ameya stood there, completely numb. Then slowly, she walked to the nearby bus stop.
The moment she sat down, the tears poured freely.
People passed by, staring, but she didn't care. She couldn't move, couldn't think. After some time, she wiped her face, slowly regaining her composure.
Her phone rang.
Sofie: "Jenna! Where are you right now? The manager's looking for you! We lied to cover for you, so don't go to the dorm. Come to the company building, quick!"
Ameya jolted back to reality. "I'm coming…"
She rushed back, taking the fastest route she could.
When she reached the company and stepped into the dance studio, the manager was waiting.
"Where are you coming from?" he asked sharply. "Why weren't you in the dorm?"
She opened her mouth but had no answer.
"I know your friends covered for you. This is the second time you've snuck out."
"Second time?" she thought. Her heart clenched.
"If you don't want to become an idol, tell me now," the manager continued, his voice stern. "We'll select someone else for your position. Do you even realize how many people are waiting for this kind of opportunity?"
Ameya stood still, his eyes burning into hers.
But deep inside, she already knew—her dream mattered. But so did her truth.
---