The Russian Ballerini

6

The rehearsal was grueling, the studio echoing with the sound of feet hitting the floor, the faint hum of music filling the air as Taylor moved through her routine. She had been pushing herself hard for weeks, perfecting every move, every step, and every leap. But today, something felt different.

Her breath, normally steady and controlled, started to feel shallow. Her chest tightened as she danced, but she tried to ignore it. A few deep breaths, she told herself, and she would be fine. But then it happened—she couldn't catch her breath.

Mackenzie, ever observant, immediately noticed the change in her best friend. "Tay, what's wrong?" she asked, concern clouding her face.

Taylor tried to speak but only managed a weak gasp for air. Her heart raced, panic setting in as she stumbled back, clutching her chest.

"I can't breathe, Mace," Taylor whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't get enough air."

Mackenzie acted quickly, pulling out her phone to call for help. "I'm calling an ambulance, Tay. Don't worry. You're going to be okay."

Taylor tried to nod, but the effort was exhausting. She collapsed onto the floor, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. Her head spun as the room seemed to close in around her.

The ER

The paramedics arrived quickly and rushed Taylor to the ER, where the doctors immediately began to assess her. She was hooked up to a heart monitor, the beeping rhythmic but unsettling, and given a nebulizer treatment to help her breathe. Her body felt so foreign to her, weak and unresponsive, and all she could do was lay there in her tights, leotard, and pointe shoes, the remnants of her rehearsal still clinging to her.

Mackenzie sat beside her, wringing her hands in anxiety. "Tay, I called Travis," she said softly, trying to reassure her. "He's on his way. He'll be here soon."

Taylor could barely respond, her thoughts clouded by the panic and exhaustion. It felt like everything was happening too fast.

Travis's Arrival

Two hours later, Travis rushed into the ER, having taken the fastest flight he could catch from Kansas City. His heart was pounding in his chest as he scanned the room, his eyes immediately landing on Taylor. She looked so small in the hospital bed, pale and hooked up to machines. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he stood frozen in the doorway, his mind racing.

He hurried to her side, brushing her hair from her forehead. "Hey, baby," he said softly, his voice strained with concern. "You're okay. I'm here now."

Taylor's eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a weak smile. "Travis... what's happening to me?"

"They're running some tests, Tay," he said, sitting down beside her. "You're gonna be okay, I promise."

The doctor came in shortly after, giving them the diagnosis. "Taylor, you've been diagnosed with severe asthma," she explained gently. "It's a chronic condition, and while there's no cure, we can manage it with medication."

Taylor's heart sank as the words hit her. Asthma. Chronic. She had always prided herself on her strength, on pushing through everything. But this... this felt different. She would have to change everything.

"We'll prescribe you a nebulizer and an inhaler," the doctor continued. "You'll need to carry them with you at all times."

Discharge and Walgreens

By the time the discharge papers were ready, Taylor was exhausted. Travis helped her sit up, and she winced at the stiffness in her muscles from being immobile for so long. As soon as she stood, Travis immediately wrapped his arms around her, lifting her gently. "No arguing," he said with a smile. "I've got you."