Danielle Bregoli
….ohhh
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Backstage, Danielle Bregoli leaned against the counter, her legs kicked out in front of her and her phone glued to her hand, nails tapping rhythmically against the screen. The small room buzzed with tension—her mother pacing behind her, muttering sharp complaints about respect and embarrassment. Danielle ignored her, chewing her gum loudly, her sharp-lined eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror. The faint roar of the audience filtered through the walls, and the bright lights from the hallway spilled into the dim space, reminding her that her moment was coming. She felt the energy building, a mix of nerves and defiance coursing through her, but she smirked as she flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. Whatever happened out there, she was ready to show them exactly who she was.