Winning My Ex-Crush

Fenella’s POV

I stared at the large mirror in front of me. Alan stood beside me, panting with his hands resting on my hips. My own breath was ragged, sweat trickling down my temples.

Alan and I have practiced twice at Sexy Cat Studio now. Monday and Wednesday had started well with introductions to the movements. I practiced further at my apartment whenever I had spare time between daily work tasks. Whether night or morning, I pushed myself to memorize all the dance moves taught.

It turns out, I quite enjoyed these dance exercises. They were almost like memorizing cheer routines back in high school, but now with freer movements and less complicated formations.

I hadn’t expected this dance studio to truly teach sexy dance moves that boosted my confidence. All the motivation and affirmations from the instructor helped awaken my feminine side. Their movements made me aware of every part of my body and helped me appreciate it.

I love myself. Wow, a simple word on the lips, yet it required reinforcing thoughts to truly believe it.

Now I understood that everyone had different bodies and souls. Still, I had to like my own body despite my C-cup breasts, stretch marks on my buttocks, and thighs still showing fat. I had to genuinely believe my body was beautiful with all its imperfections to make these dance moves work.

“How was that?” I asked the dance instructor and Jessy, who watched us from the edge of the practice room.

“I think it was great. You both managed to memorize the moves and let yourselves move to the rhythm of the music,” our instructor said.

“Yeah, I can see the chemistry between you two. Much better than the first day,” Jessy added, nodding approvingly.

“Alright, let’s try it with the Oscar outfits,” Alan said, releasing his hold on me.

Alan walked to the edge of the practice room. I followed him, and he fetched my water bottle and towel.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile.

Alan was always like this. He is very friendly and eager to do small acts of kindness for me. Whether he was picking up my water bottle and towel from the floor or not, he did it happily.

After sipping some mineral water, I wiped the sweaty parts of my body with a small towel. We rested to catch our breaths. Alan then checked the wall clock.NôvelDrama.Org © content.

“Let’s change into our outfits quickly,” Alan said without delay.

Following his cue, I grabbed the bag containing the outfits prepared by Jessy. I went to the restroom and started to peel off my tight black workout gear. After over half an hour of practice, my gym clothes felt damp.

I decided to take a quick shower to rid myself of the smell of sweat. Just five minutes, and now my body smelled like soap. Afterward, I put on the pants and bra that had been prepared.

Then I wore a black mini dress adorned with sparkling sequin motifs along the hem. It was all Oscar’s design, and I had to wear every piece for tomorrow night’s dance performance with Alan. Not forgetting the high-heeled black boots that sparkled with glitter up to my ankles.

When I came back, I was stunned to see Oscar de Ragetti there in person, accompanied by his assistant. Despite the studio’s dim lighting, with only neon lights in shades of purple and pink, we could still see each other clearly.

“Oh, is this your most beautiful model?” Oscar asked in a dramatic way.

Alan grinned proudly and waved at me. “Come here, Fenella; introduce yourself to Mr. de Ragetti.”

“Hello, Mr. de Ragetti. I’m Fenella Baxter,” I greeted, extending a formal handshake to him.

The man instead pulled my hand firmly. Then he hugged me and quickly kissed both my cheeks. He stepped back and looked me up and down.

Thank goodness I showered earlier! He might have been disgusted if I were still covered in sweat.

“Oh, yes, you look stunning in that dress. Your blonde hair contrasts beautifully with the outfit. You’re gorgeous,” Oscar, the renowned fashion designer, said with a wide grin.

“Thank you, Mr. de Ragetti,” I replied, smiling shyly.

“You can call me Oscar, darling,” he said, still examining my overall appearance.

“Hmm, make sure to tousle your hair a bit and lift it slightly when you perform later to look more energetic. Don’t straighten your hair,” Oscar muttered while still looking at my appearance.

“Let’s try the part where we open the dress,” Oscar said, snapping his fingers.

“So, Alan, can you see the strap on Fenella’s shoulder here?” Oscar asked, lifting the dangling strap on my shoulder slightly.

“The knot on it is simple to undo. So, you can pull it to open the dress from this side,” Oscar explained while pointing at my dress.

“Oh, I see,” I replied. No wonder this dress reminded me of shoelace weaving with a loose knot.

“Then, at the bottom here,” Oscar said, holding my waist, “you see there’s a hole in the strap. So while you pull the strap, you can pull the dress off with your other hand.”

“Naughty Oscar! Where did you learn to make such a sexy dress?” Alan chuckled, and Oscar laughed happily. It seemed Oscar took it as a compliment.

“You’ll learn how to do it after designing hundreds of costumes for those diva concerts. They need a show that can arouse the audience’s passions,” Oscar boasted.

“How about that, Fenella? Do you like this dress? Do you feel like a complete woman inside?” Oscar asked dramatically once again.

“Yes. I think it’s brilliant. I didn’t even know the function of that strap until you told me,” I said with a wide smile, still amazed by this dress model.

“You know, I brought a few dress options with slightly different designs but the same mechanism. We can try them all,” Oscar said enthusiastically.

“Of course.” Alan smiled, and I nodded.

Honestly, I was quite tired. After dancing for more than half an hour, then showering, and now having to change clothes repeatedly until we found the dress that Alan found easiest to remove, I was exhausted.

Silver dresses, gold dresses, and pink dresses. Not to mention combinations with bra and underwear sets that would be displayed at the end of the dance. As often as I changed clothes, Jessy and I finally made an emergency dressing room in the practice room with a borrowed curtain from our dance instructor.

Ugh, when would this end?