You need to eat
The Weight of Gold and Glass
The first official day back in the dance studio after the incident felt like walking into a courtroom where the mirrors were both the judge and the jury. The air was thick with the scent of floor wax and the low, industrial hum of the ventilation system. For weeks, this room had been a place of torment for Amelia—a place where she picked apart her reflection until there was nothing left but flaws.
Today, however, the reflection looked different. Encased in a new, lightweight medical cast that Daniela and Lara had spent the morning decorating with intricate gold leaf and tiny, shimmering crystals, Amelia’s right arm looked less like an injury and more like a piece of avant-garde armor.
"Okay, family, let's take it from the bridge," Sophia announced, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. She looked at Amelia through the mirror, offering a small, encouraging wink. "Remember, this isn't about perfection today. It’s about the feeling. Amelia, you’re the sun. We’re just the planets."
The music started—a heavy, melodic bassline that vibrated through the soles of Amelia’s sneakers. As the song built toward the bridge, the girls shifted their formations. Instead of the usual high-speed synchronized power move, the six of them peeled away, circling Amelia in a fluid, protective orbit.
Amelia stood in the center. She didn't move her right arm, keeping it tucked slightly against her chest in a pose that felt regal rather than restricted. She used her left hand to trace a sharp, elegant line through the air, her eyes fixed on her own reflection. For the first time, she didn't look at the curve of her waist or the softness of her cheeks with loathing. She looked at the strength in her posture. She looked at the way her sisters moved around her, their eyes constantly flitting to her to ensure she was balanced, safe, and celebrated.
When the music cut out, the silence was broken by the sound of vigorous clapping. Their performance director, who had been watching from the corner, stepped forward with a wide smile.
"That transition is breathtaking," she said, nodding toward Amelia. "Amelia, the stillness you’re bringing to this section actually makes the rest of the group’s movement look more dynamic. It’s a beautiful contrast. It doesn't look like you’re hurt; it looks like you’re the heart of the storm."
Amelia felt a rush of heat to her face, a genuine smile breaking through her focused mask. "Thank you. I was worried it would look... lazy."
"Lazy?" Megan scoffed, stepping over and bumping her hip against Amelia’s. "Meels, you’re doing literal 'main character' energy right now. If I tried to stand that still, I’d probably fall over."
"It’s the gold," Daniela added, walking over to inspect her handiwork on the cast. "The crystals catch the studio lights perfectly. We’re definitely keeping this look for the music video. It’s very 'Kintsugi' chic."
The high of a successful rehearsal carried them through the afternoon, but as they piled into the van to head home, the physical toll began to set in. Amelia’s wrist was throbbing, a dull, insistent ache that reminded her she was still very much in the process of healing. She leaned her head against the window, watching the neon lights of Los Angeles blur into long, colorful streaks.
"You’re over-exerting," Manon said quietly, sitting directly behind her. She reached over the seat, her cool fingers gently massaging the back of Amelia’s neck. "I can see it in your eyes. You’re trying to prove you’re fine, but you don't have to prove anything to us."
"I just don't want to be the reason we have to delay anything else," Amelia whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.
"The only thing that delays us is you being unhappy," Sophia said from the front seat, turning around to look at her. "We’ve already pushed the filming back by three days to give you more rest. Management is fine with it. The fans are fine with it. You need to be fine with it, too."
When they finally reached the house, the girls moved with the practiced synchronicity of a well-oiled machine. They knew Amelia’s limits better than she did. Before she could even reach the stairs, Yoonchae had already grabbed her bag, and Megan had a firm grip on her waist, guiding her toward the living room.
"Tonight is a no-phone, no-work, only-cuddles zone," Lara declared, emerging from the kitchen with a tray of iced tea and a bowl of sliced fruit. "I’ve already picked out a movie. It’s a cheesy rom-com from the early 2000s, and we are going to criticize every single outfit."
They settled into their usual "nest" on the floor. It was a sprawling landscape of duvets, silk pillows, and plush stuffed animals. Amelia was positioned in the middle, her cast propped up on a specialized velvet cushion.
As the movie started, the room fell into a comfortable rhythm of whispered commentary and shared snacks. But Amelia found her mind wandering. The silence of the house usually brought back the echoes of the comments she had read—the cruel words about her body, the suggestions that she was the "weak link."
She felt a hand slide into hers. It was Megan.
"I know that look," Megan whispered, leaning closer so her breath tickled Amelia’s ear. "You’re wandering off into the dark woods again. Come back to us."
"It’s just hard," Amelia admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I feel so loved in this room, Megs. Truly. But I’m scared that when I step outside, or when I look at a screen, that love is going to be drowned out by the noise."
Megan didn't answer immediately. Instead, she sat up, reaching for her phone on the coffee table.
"Megs, no," Amelia groaned. "You said no phones."
"This is an exception," Megan said firmly. She tapped away for a moment, then turned the screen toward Amelia.
It was a private group chat, but it wasn't one Amelia recognized. The header read: *KATSEYE PROTECTORS.* It was a fan-run initiative, and the latest post was a massive digital collage. It featured hundreds of photos of Amelia—not just professional ones, but candid shots of her laughing with the girls, her focused face during rehearsals, and even a screenshot from the live stream where she was showing off her cast.
Underneath the collage was a message: *To our seventh star, Amelia. You told us you felt like a shadow, but to us, you’re the light that makes the group shine. Take all the time you need to heal. We aren't going anywhere. Your health is our comeback.*
Amelia felt the first sob hitch in her chest before she could stop it. The tears came quickly, hot and overwhelming.
"They... they made that?" she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"They made it, and they’ve been trending a different positive hashtag for you every day since the mall incident," Lara said, crawling over to join them. She wrapped her arms around Amelia from the other side, squeezing tight. "The world isn't just made of trolls, Meels. There are so many people who see exactly what we see. They see a girl who is brave, talented, and irreplaceable."
The rest of the girls gravitated toward the center of the nest, forming a tight, warm circle around Amelia. Sophia sat behind her, pulling Amelia’s head back against her chest, while Yoonchae and Daniela curled up at her feet. Manon sat quietly to the side, her hand resting on Amelia’s knee, her silent presence a steady anchor.
"I spent so much time looking for the hate," Amelia sobbed, her face buried in Megan’s shoulder. "I looked for it until I couldn't see the love anymore. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I let them get inside my head."
"Don't apologize for being human," Sophia murmured, her voice like a soothing balm. "The internet is a loud place, and you’re only eighteen. It’s our job to be louder. It’s our job to remind you of the truth until you can say it to yourself in the mirror."
"I want to be able to say it," Amelia said, wiping her eyes with the back of her left hand. "I want to look at myself and not see a list of things to fix."
"We’ll get there," Daniela promised, her eyes bright with determination. "And until you can see it, you can just borrow our eyes. Because when I look at you, I see the best dancer-in-training I’ve ever met. I see a girl who can pull off street-style better than anyone in this group. I see my sister."
They stayed like that for a long time, the movie forgotten as it played out its happy ending to an empty room. The real story was happening on the floor, amidst the tangled limbs and tear-stained pillows.
Eventually, the heaviness of the emotion began to lift, replaced by the comfortable, chaotic energy that defined Katseye.
"Okay, enough crying," Yoonchae declared, reaching for a handful of popcorn. "My legs are falling asleep, and someone needs to tell me why the main character in this movie thinks that denim skirt is acceptable."
"It was 2003, Yoonie! Give her a break!" Lara laughed, throwing a pillow at the youngest.
"I don't care what year it was, that’s a crime against fashion," Daniela joined in, and soon the room was filled with the familiar sound of their bickering.
Amelia watched them, a small, tired smile on her lips. She felt a profound sense of lightness, as if the heavy gold of her cast had suddenly become weightless. She knew the road ahead wouldn't be perfectly smooth. There would be days when her body felt like an enemy again, and days when the comments would find a way through the filters.
But as she looked at Megan, who was currently trying to steal a piece of fruit from Daniela’s plate, and Sophia, who was watching them all with a look of pure, unadulterated pride, Amelia knew she had everything she needed to fight back.
"Hey, Meels," Megan said, nudging her. "You okay?"
Amelia leaned over and kissed Megan’s cheek, a sudden burst of affection that caught the older girl off guard. "I’m better than okay. I’m home."
"Good," Megan grinned, wrapping her arm back around Amelia’s neck. "Now, help me tell Dani that her taste in movies is officially revoked."
"Oh, it was revoked a long time ago," Amelia joked, her Australian accent bright and clear.
As the night deepened, the girls eventually drifted off to sleep, one by one, right there in the living room. They were a mountain of soft fabrics and shared breath. Amelia lay in the center, her eyes open for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling.
She thought about the gold on her cast—the way it filled the cracks and made the broken pieces stay together. She realized then that her sisters were her gold. They were the precious metal that filled the shattered parts of her self-esteem, turning her scars into something beautiful.
She wasn't a girl who was broken. She was a girl who was being rebuilt, piece by piece, by the six women who loved her most in the world.
Amelia closed her eyes, her hand still clasped in Megan’s. The house was quiet, the air was warm, and for the first time in a very long time, the silence didn't feel lonely. It felt like peace.
"Love you guys," she whispered into the dark.
And though they were asleep, the way Megan squeezed her hand in response told her everything she needed to know. The seventh member of Katseye was finally, truly, whole.