I let out a huff I didn't know I was holding as the curtain closes after the final bow. I did it. I did it. I was the fucking sugarplum fairy! My friends crowd around me and congratulate me on my performance, but all I can really think about is my aching feet.

Still in full stage makeup, a gilded pink tutu, pointe shoes, and an intricately decorated tiara, I make my way out to the lobby to find my family.

"Elizabeth!" Out of nowhere, I'm assaulted with a strongly perfumed hug. "Oh darling, you were amazing!" Grandma says, putting her hands on my cheeks.

"You remind me so much of your mother at your age," Grandpa adds, a proud smile gracing his face.

"Thanks," I blush as Grandma gives me another hug.

"Great job, sweetheart," comes Uncle Sully's voice from somewhere beyond the cloud of fragrance. "You look like princess."

"Aw thanks, Uncle Sully." He tries to hug me without pressing against my tutu.

Victor taps me on the shoulder to get my attention. "You danced really well, Lizzy." Then he leans in close and, in true little brother fashion, whispers, "I could see your butt the whole time."

"Shut up, weirdo." I shove him away to get to Mom and Dad.

I can tell by the look on Mom's face that she's close to tears. "Oh, my baby girl. My precious baby girl." She holds me at arms length. "Look at you. You're radiant."

"It's because she takes after me." Dad takes my arm and twirls me under it. "You look like a princess."

"I already said that, kid," Sully says, flicking him in the forehead.

Dad rolls his eyes. "Regardless, you were amazing. You could totally be professional. I'm proud of you, Lizzy."

"That means a lot coming from you," I smile, blushing. "You think I'm good enough for Juilliard?"

"Of course. I'm behind you, 100%."

"Thanks, Dad."

Mom dabs at her eyes and calls out, "Family picture!"

Uncle Sully voices his complaints, but he's quick to comply after Mom gives him a look. The photo sessions after shows are usually painfully long, what with Mom being the family chronicler, so my smiles are usually forced. But by the end of this shoot, my cheeks are hurting from being pushed aside by a very insistent and genuine smile. Dad makes sure he's prominent in each photo to prove his support. The usual sulking and scowling before the camera (that he no doubt learned from Uncle Sully) is replaced with the persona I grew up looking up to as a hero. He gives the camera the winning smile that has apparently latched on to my mother's heart and hasn't let go from the moment they met.

Before I head back to the dressing room to change into clothes more appropriate to drive home in, Dad pulls me off to the side and gives me a huge, almost desperate hug. "I'm sorry for being an asshole about the whole Juilliard thing. I was being a bastard because I thought that was for the best, but I realized that simply wasn't true. I just want you to know that I'm sorry and I'm totally cool with ballet being your thing."

"I know, Dad," I say, a bit choked up. "I forgive you."

He pulls away and hits me with a look of such strong emotion, eyes shining with an immense amount of pride. I blink quickly to disperse the tears that threaten to make my mascara run. "I love you, Elizabeth," he says, kissing my forehead.

"I love you, Dad."

A/N: And there you have it. I couldn't decide how to end it and I know this is kind of a quick rap up, but I didn't want to leave y'all hanging any while longer. Seriously, thank you for reading! You have no idea how much all the feedback and favorites and follows means to me. So thanks again from the very bottom of my heart.