𝗛𝗢𝗧 | 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗰𝗸 || 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗪

𝙄𝘾𝙔

The tension in the air is palpable as the day of the performance arrives. Hope's nerves are frayed, her mind consumed with doubt and fear.

She paces back and forth in her dressing room, her hands trembling with anxiety.

"I can't do this," she mutters to herself, her voice strained with uncertainty.

"I can't go on stage. I just can't."

Mark watches her from across the room, his expression unreadable. He knows that Hope is on the verge of a meltdown, but he also knows that he can't let her give in to her fears.

" Don't let your fear control you ," he says firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos of her thoughts.

But Hope shakes her head, her eyes filled with panic. " You don't understand, Mark. You don't know what it's like to be me, to have every move scrutinized and judged. I can't handle the pressure anymore."

Mark's patience wears thin as he listens to Hope's excuses. "Enough, Hope," he snaps, his voice tinged with frustration.

" You're not the only one who's been through hell. We've all had our struggles, but that doesn't give you an excuse to give up."

Hope recoils at Mark's harsh words, her eyes flashing with anger. "How dare you," she seethes, her voice trembling with emotion. " You don't know anything about what I've been through. "

Mark's jaw clenches as he fights to keep his temper in check.

"No, I don't know, but I do know what it's like to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of dignity I have," he retorts, his voice dripping with bitterness.

"And I know that giving up is not an option."

She realizes the truth in Mark's words. She knows that he's right, that she can't let her fear hold her back any longer. With a deep breath, she squares her shoulders and meets Mark's gaze with a newfound determination.

"Okay," she says, her voice steady.

"I'll do it. I'll go on stage."

-

As the audience buzzes with anticipation, the host takes center stage, their voice booming through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming the one and only, the incomparable, Hope!" The crowd erupts into applause as the spotlight illuminates the stage, casting a warm glow on Hope as she steps into the limelight

Mark, with a furrowed brow, approached the stage manager with a sense of urgency as Hope's performance continued seamlessly in the background.

"Hey, did Hope mention any props for her performance?" Mark inquired, his tone serious.

The stage manager shook his head.

"Of course not," he replied, his brows knitting together in concern.

Mark's eyes narrowed as he continued, "Well, the sixth backup dancer has a rose."

A look of alarm flashed across the stage manager's face.

"That's not good at all," he murmured, his voice tense with worry.

Mark's response was blunt. "No shit."

Suddenly, a realization dawned on Mark.

The sixth backup dancer was positioned closest to Hope during certain parts of the performance, making them a potential threat.