The Diary of Emellana Smith :)

When my dad called, I was in a fight with Jay. Like always. And it wasn't even my fault. See, the power went out at Soundbox last night. But, just because my studio building decided to take a break, that doesn't mean I can. 'Echoes of the Stars' opens in two weeks!
Well, what did I do? I grabbed my workout shorts, yanked on my leg warmers, and pushed all the furniture in the lounge towards the walls. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. So I hit the stereo button and started in a pour de braus sweep front. Jeez, I just love that Adele song - I think it's called Turning Tables.
And I'm getting totally into it, right? That's why I dance - to lose myself in my music. Then, click. The music stops. It took me a minute to snap out of it, then I spun around, furious at being interrupted. Of course, it's our favorite crabby grease monkey.
Jaaay!, I exclaimed exasperatedly (okay, maybe it was more of a whine). He stood by the stereo, in full getup - coveralls splattered with grease and other unmentionable substances, ratty brown leather boots, and that red faded cap - on backwards, as always. Oh, and we can't forget that trademark scowl.
You can't just take over the entire apartment building for your hula dancing, he sighed. I put my hand on my hip.
CONTEMPORARY BALLET, Ramos. I'm not a stupid hula dancer!, I huffed. I turned my music back, sticking out my tongue.
About then is when my phone rang. I, of course, was mid-stereo battle. When I finally answered my voicemail, dad's deep voice filled my ears. I had to play the message twice.

By the time I got to the house, the sun was high in the sky - must have been at least eighty degrees out. I could feel my hair damp against the back of my neck. Ew. As I walked up the drive, I watched the strangers congregate at the entrance to the house. My dad's people - all sharp suits and slicked-back hair, sleek blonde tresses and floral tea dresses. I tugged at my own nude-colored dress and patted down my neon pink hair. Sometimes it's good to stand out.
Sometimes it's not.
The house itself was familiar and overbearing. I spent eighteen years in that house, but as I walked through the door, I couldn't find a single thing that proved I'd ever been there. Like these strangers had more of a claim over it than I did.
Whatever.
Amber!, squealed a voice behind me, high and shrill over the din of the partygoers. I absentmindedly picked up a glass of something light pink and bubbly, tugging again at my own dress. A boney hand grabbed my shoulder, and I jumped, emitting a small squeak. Amber, I thought that was you!.
I turned around and was face-to-face with a tall, thin Asian woman with long raven-black hair and harsh features, whose wide smile was as fake as my hair color.
Um, I stuttered. She looked at me expectantly. I think you have the wrong person, I'm sorry. Her smile faltered for a second.
No, but -, she looked around behind her, tossing her shiny hair in my face. I sputtered. Dan, honey - isn't this Amber?, she called out. My heart sunk to the floor. I felt so small. My dad walked up and slid his arm around the woman's waist.
My daughter's name is Emma, Sheryl. Not Amber, he said.
Sheryl laughed a loud, trilling laugh. Oops!. My dad smiled and squeezed her shoulder. He looked at me. Well, not at me. He looked at my paint-splattered pumps, at my pepto bismol hair, at my tattoos.
Hello, Emma. Hi, dad I smiled tentatively. There was a totally awkward pause among the three of us. I waited.
Emma, this is Sheryl Cho, he finally said. Sheryl smiled that smile again. I vaguely remember saying hi and shaking her boney, bird-like hand.
In three weeks, this strange woman will marry my dad. She'll be his seventh new wife, since mom. According to one of Sheryl's peppy little friends, they've been dating for a year. Nice of dad to keep me in the loop.

At some point, my dad stood up and clinked his wine glass. He and Sheryl told everyone how happy they were to start a new family together. I restricted myself to a corner and did my best to look super small. I don't know how much time passed, but then I looked up, and there was Jay. Gone were the coveralls of the day before, in their place were dark pants and a clean grey shirt. However, I did notice a cute little grease stain on his collarbone.
My mouth fell open, but I caught it quickly and managed to get out a few words.
Jay! What - what are you doing here?, I blurted out. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
He looked just as surprised as I was.
Emma? Uh, I could ask you the same question..., he said. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around, like he'd much rather be anywhere else.
This is my dad's engagement party, Jay, I half-snapped. What is he doing here?
Your dad, yeah? Sorry uh, Cassidy used to work for Sheryl, so we just..., he trailed off.

Cassidy. Beautiful, luscious deep amber hair, porcelain skin, eyes like emeralds - oh yeah, that Cassidy. She and Jay have been together as long as I can remember. She, too, is of the bird-hand tribe. Blek.

So, a new stepmom, yeah? That's cool. I looked up quickly.
She's NOT my stepmom. She's not my anything, I said angrily. I started to walk away.
You should be happy for your dad, Emma. He's found love again. You can't have all of his attention forever, Jay said.
I sighed and told him that I didn't have time to argue with him anymore. I felt sick.
Hey are - are you okay?, he asked, coming closer. He looked worried.
I looked at him, reaching towards me. I looked at Cassidy, on the other side of the room. I looked at my dad with his arms around a stranger.
I turned and walked out the door.
No, I'm not.