nca

eyelids fluttered open, revealing a sterile white ceiling. A hospital. Again. A familiar, unwelcom

through my legs. My legs. I couldn't feel the

r. Good. A very kind gentleman found you outside your building and brough

nter. Not my mother. Som

ound emptiness. But the missing sensation in my

ed, my voice raspy.

me severe trauma during the accident, dear," she said gently, her voice hushed. "It's too early to say

terile room, bouncing off the white walls, crashing into my soul. My mind went blank,

ed further observation, a series of rehabilitation ther

d nurtured since childhood, had been irrevocably shattered. The principal dancer. The Eu

to a screeching halt. The irony was a bitter, metallic taste in m

y. "Shall I contact your family, dear? Your mother?

ke trash, left me to collapse on the cold marble. And my mother. She had ch

e nurse continued, oblivious to my internal turmoil.

They walk away unscathed

her voice practical. "The initial costs are quite

uences alone. They had been worried, the nurse said. But not eno

ped my lips. Family

o Hunter. To the only people who had ever truly

ne?" I asked, my vo

th concern. He paid my bills, arranged for my discharge, and sa

her paths. Our company, we want you to consider a position as an artistic director

choreographer. A director. It wasn't dancing, not in the way I

nd. "Andre, thank

I explained my situation, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and newfound resolve. To my surprise, they listened. T

n't abandoned

my flight, handled the mountain of paperwork, and p

ife. As the plane lifted off, leaving the sprawling, indifferent city behind, I closed my eyes. The pain, the betrayal, the crushing loss – I buried it deep, deep