Mine "till death do us apart"

Episode 4

                         " The show night "
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Author* sorry guys I didn't give you guys the whole thing thats why here it's just a little messy but hope you understand after all it's my first book*

Here I am talking cause you know about so you how lonely Sarah is
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Nothing good ever comes without pain.
Since I was a little girl, that fact has been cemented into my head with bloodstained fingers.

I was born from pain, raised by pain, and eventually embraced it.
However, no matter how much pain I’ve had to endure, I’ve never managed to become numb to it. Not even when I went out of my way to
train my body for it.

Pain is real, suffocating, and with the right amount of pressure, it’s bound to break my every last barrier.

My endurance is stronger, though.
Loud cheers fill the hall long after the curtains fall for the finale of The Nutcracker. I remain on pointe, hands poised in my salute even after we’re out of the public eye.

My ankles scream to be put out of their misery, as they have repeatedly over these last couple of months. Long rehearsals and endless tours have dulled my senses, almost bleeding into one another. I give it a few seconds, catching my breath before I softly land on the soles of my feet. My ballet shoes are inaudible in the midst of the fuss. backstage.

Other dancers release relieved breaths as they either pat each other on
the back or simply stand there dumbfounded. We might belong to the NewYork City Ballet, one of the most prestigious dance companies in the world,

but that doesn’t lessen the pressure. If anything, it makes it tenfold worse.

We’re expected to be our absolute best whenever we go on stage. Whenthe company handpicked its dancers, the only rule was: no mistakes areallowed.

The roaring applause at the end of our performance isn’t something we
hope for, it’s something we’re expected to accomplish.

The director, Tom, a tall, slim man with a bald head and thick whitemoustache, walks over, accompanied by our choreography

director,
Emily.

Tom smiles, his moustache tipping with the movement, and all of usrelease a collective breath. He’s not the type to smile after a show unless we’ve done a perfect performance.
“You were marvelous. Bravo!” he speaks with a pronounced Frenchaccent, and claps. His entire body joins in the motion, his colorful scarf

flying and his tight blazer straining against his body.

Everyone else follows his lead, clapping and congratulating each other.

Everyone except me, the lead male dancer, liam, and the second female lead, Hannah.

Some dancers attempt to start small talk with tom, but he brazenly ignores them as he walks to me and lifts my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips and moustache against my knuckles.

“My most beautiful prima ballerina. You were a work of art tonight,  Sarah chérie.”

“Thank you, tom.” I pull my hand back as swiftly as I can and wince when a tendon aches in my left leg. I need to get a pain patch on thatas soon as possible
.
“Do not thank me. I’m the one who’s honored to have a muse like you.”

That makes me smile. Tom is definitely the best director I’ve worked with. He understands me better than anyone ever has.

“laim.” He nods at the male lead, rolling the L dramatically. “You were perfect.”

“As expected.” Liam raises an arrogant brow. He has those all-American good looks with a square face, deep blue eyes, and a cleft chin.
“You, too, Hannah,” tom says dismissively to her. “You’ll need to. work on your pointe for Giselle.”

Her expression lights up as she smirks at me, then clears her throat.

Hannah is blonde, a bit taller than me, and has cat eyes that she always accentuates with thick, shadowy makeup. “Does that mean we’ll be auditioning for the lead role?”

Emily steps up beside tom. She has deep black skin and naturally curly hair that she’s gathered into a pink band. As a former prima
ballerina in the NYC Ballet, she has reputation that precedes her and is as tenacious as Emily, but they work surprisingly well as a team.

“There will be an audition, but not for the lead.”

“But why—” Hannah stops herself from snapping at the last second.

Emily motions her head at me. “The producers already picked Sarah to be Giselle.”

Hannah’s gaze meets mine with nothing short of malice. I give her a cool one in return. Being in ballet since I was five has taught me to rise
above their petty jealousy and catfights. I’m here because I love to dance and play characters that I’m not in real life. Everything else is white noise.

That’s probably why I have no friends. Some kiss my ass for their own benefit, then stab me in the back, and others are malicious about everything.

Everyone here is just a colleague. And as Grandma used to say, it’s lonely at the top.
My tendons start aching again and I hide my wince. I overwork myself during these marathon shows and I need aftercare.

Now.
I tip my head at Emily and Stephanie. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Quoi? You’re not going to join us for the celebration party?”

the director exclaims. “The producers won’t like this.”

“I need aftercare, Emily.”
“So do it, and then join us,”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m exhausted and need downtime. Please relay my apologies.”

Emily and Stephanie seem displeased, but they nod. It’s unheard of for a prima ballerina not to attend celebration parties, but they know how much I hate the limelight outside of dancing. Besides, most of those producers are sexist, perverted assholes. I’d rather not meet them unless I absolutely have to.
The dancers slowly trickle into the dressing room, chatting among each other.

Hannah leans over to whisper, “Maybe the producers will finally realize how much of a fucking talentless bitch you actually are.”

I stare at her. Thankfully, she’s not tall enough to look down on me. “If you rehearsed as hard as you run your mouth, you’d probably have a chance at taking some lead roles from me.”

She clicks her tongue and her face contorts, highlighting the bold makeup that gives her a witchy appearance. “How many of the producers did you fuck, Sarah ? Because we all know you wouldn’t get this many lead
roles if it wasn’t for whoring yourself out.”

Her words don’t sting. Not only are they untrue, but I’ve also heard such jabs from the entire ballet troupe over the years. In the beginning, I wanted to prove I’m no whore and that I got this far by torturing myself, but
I soon realized it was pointless. People will think what they want to think.

So now I’ve grown accustomed to them, but at the same time, I won’t allow Hannah or anyone else to walk all over me. Squaring my shoulders, I say with mocking calm, “Until then, you’ll have to remain Miss Number two."

After leaving I see a tall figure " hi my name is Adam" now I am staring
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Author
Hello
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Hope you like it " if you guys are having any confusion this is pov of part like you can say another episode 2
Bye
Your truly
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