#FanficThursday: The Only One (Camille and Moose) – Step Up – Chapter 32

Chapter 32 – The Boy is Mine (Las Vegas)

Screenshot of Alyson Stoner & lyrics of her song ‘The boy is mine’ (2016)

This is like living a dream. I don’t even think the lights, the food, or the couch I’m sitting on with my legs halfway up to Moose’s knees, are authentic.

The adrenaline rush after winning, with all the confetti falling around us, the music playing and everyone dancing, continues to throb in my veins like an endless melody. The champagne runs from hand to hand and there is a food of all kinds in front of us. And Moose and I, as if we were ten years younger, just keep looking at each other furtively, which when they meet, makes us burst out laughing and occasionally kissing with a little more energy than usual, at least when we’re in public.

Obviously, and although we are not the only couple present, every passionate gesture brings out the whistles and the bustle. But today, tonight, I don’t care either. Suddenly, I begin to be aware of something in the nebula of euphoria that surrounds my brain―this will be a change in our lives. And contrary to what I thought, or what my more severe and thoughtful side would evaluate, I don’t care; rather, it’s a kind of shiver of anticipation that runs down my spine.

At that moment, however, my spirits cool down when I see out of the corner of my eye an unfortunately familiar silhouette move. My jaw tightens slightly when the blonde who just two nights ago tried to steal my boy looks back at me; a look full of surprise and some defiance. Moose, when he notices her presence, looks at her with apparent calm as he drinks from the champagne glass in his left hand, resting on the back of the sofa. And I feel my body quiver with a strange pleasure when, at the same time, he wraps his right arm around my back, bringing me closer to him in an innocuous way. The blonde’s eyes, for my triumph, open even wider and I can’t help―I don’t know whether it’s the champagne or the ecstasy of victory in The Vortex―throwing a false grimace of apology at her. At this moment the song ‘The girl is mine’ by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney sounds over our heads and I can’t help but think with fun: 

The boy is mine.

Her reaction to my gesture is not long in coming. Her face goes from disdain to anger in an instant and she immediately suggests to her companions to go somewhere else. But, when they do, Moose catches me kissing my lower jaw and whispers in a tone I know well, just a purr:

“Let’s get outta here.”


I don’t know if it’s the fact that we won or what the hell is wrong with me tonight. The only thing I notice is that my head is pumping as if my heart had come out of my chest and invaded the corner where my brain should be. I see the lights shining, my hands are shaking and I only have eyes for one person. Or rather, a heavenly creature with dark eyes that seem to invite me to paradise every time they turn towards me. She’s here, we’re both here; we’ve won. Not just The Vortex, but something else. Our dream and a stronger bond between the two. A bond that I will never again allow to weaken in such an absurd way.

When we get up and she holds my hand to take me to the elevator, I let her drive. I think someone is whistling behind our back, but I don’t care. When the doors close behind us, in the solitude of this small space that makes us go up, the corner seems a more than a perfect place to give us free rein and forget the restraint. Our mouths are linked with fury, I feel her body against mine…

Seconds later, a sudden jolt causes us to leave momentarily the idyllic dream in which we find ourselves and the door opens behind us. Suddenly, we separate as if nothing happened when two more couples enter the elevator. But until our floor arrives we do nothing but look at each other and laugh like idiots from below.

Nervous and partly because of the champagne, none of us ever manages to get the key in the first place. But when the door closes violently behind my back and we enter the bedroom in the dark, it is as if we are entering another dimension. One reserved for the two of us. We don’t even take off our clothes before our bodies meet in the sweetest possible way. My hands pull up her skirt and hers drop my straps. She stands against the wall, in my arms, with her legs surrounding my waist and her head thrown back; which allows that after her hand throws away the cap I’ve worn to dance, my lips taste her neck and the nearby areas with total freedom. We felt good, euphoric, and change positions a thousand times before reaching the desired end.

What am I gonna do to it? I love her. And so, in this nebula of happiness, I know what I have to do next.


The cold of the glass is a curious contrast to my skin, on fire after making love to Moose. His hands are still around my waist and I feel his body leaning against my back, trembling from the effort. At that moment, he rests his chin on my shoulder and whispers all sorts of precious things in my ear. I answer him in the same tone. At our feet, on the other side of the window, Las Vegas stretches out like a map of multicolored lights. Some people may think we are in a very exposed position, but the height and uninhibited nature of tonight mean that we hardly care if anyone can see us. It was what we needed to do, and today no one in the world could deny us anything. Not even ourselves.

A few minutes pass in which neither of us moves: his arms continue to surround my waist, our breaths calm down, and become almost one, in complete harmony. Yes; that’s how I feel it should be. He and I, one single unit.

At that moment, however, his body moves slightly away from mine and whispers to me to wait for a second and that he’ll be back right away. I obey while looking outside. What is it about me tonight that everything I see seems to me to be pure magic? I don’t know, but of course the sudden presence of a little box with a ring in front of my eyes, without waiting for it, contributes to making the situation even more surprising.

“I know maybe I should’ve asked you a long time ago. I know I’ve been acting like an idiot these days. But I also know it’s time,” he ­whispers behind my back as I try to take in what he’s saying, not believing it all and trying not to cry out of the excitement. 

“Marry me, Camille Anne Gage.”

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