Page 39 of The Bittersweet Bond

The studio floor felt unyielding beneath her feet, but her toes, bound tightly in her pointe shoes, landed with precise control. She knew that every mistake, every misstep, could be seen as a sign of weakness. And there was no room for weakness here. "Light and graceful," Mrs. Wagner had said.Light and graceful.Evin’s gaze dropped to her thighs. Ballet was, in truth, harsh, demanding, and painful—and that was exactly why she loved it.

Every movement was a challenge, a test that pushed her to the very edge of her physical capabilities. Yet amidst the pain and exhaustion, there were fleeting moments when everything aligned. When her arms and legs felt like extensions of her will, when she stopped thinking and simply existed. The movements flowed, and her body performed without hesitation, as if it were on autopilot.

She let her gaze sweep over her reflection. The last rays of sunlight poured into the studio, highlighting her figure. The tight leotard and tights revealed every curve, every inch of her body, which she scrutinized more critically than ever before.

5'6" and 130 pounds.

Mrs. Wagner’s words echoed in her mind repeatedly. The message was clear. To land a lead role, she had to be lighter. More perfect. She’d already dropped almost six pounds, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. The auditions for the performance were approaching fast, and every meal felt like an obstacle. Evin envisioned herself as Nikiya, but she knew talent alone wasn’t enough—it required discipline. Not just in her dancing, but in every aspect of her life. Her weight felt like an invisible barrier standing between her and her dream.

Her thoughts drifted briefly.

The past few weeks had been a blur. She and Ben were already history. The comments had stopped. But Bas still ignored her. And the pressure remained. Her grades had slipped, her energy was drained. Yet she clung to one thing: dance. Here, she could forget everything, even if only for a few hours.

Luckily, Mrs. Wagner unlocked the studio for the girls on weekends for extra practice; otherwise, Evin didn’t know how she would reach her goal.

Tonight, Jonas was hosting one of his infamous parties. Swimming in the pool, good music, and plenty of alcohol. It would be the first time in weeks she’d see Bas outside of school. The uncertainty of how the night would unfold gnawed at her, but she pushed the thought aside. For now, all that mattered was focus. Controlling her body, silencing the pain. She had to be ready when the decision for the lead role came.

With one last deep breath, she straightened and turned for another look at the mirror. Her muscles were sore and exhausted, but she resolved to run through the routine one final time before heading out.

__________

Evin sat on the edge of her bed, her phone resting in her palm. No messages. Of course not. Bas hadn’t texted her in weeks, and though she kept telling herself it didn’t matter, the quiet ache in her chest said otherwise.

Damn it, why wouldn’t she care?

That nagging feeling wouldn’t go away—the uncertainty of whether he’d ever look at her the way he used to. But tonight wasn’t about him. Or at least, she wanted to believe that

“Come on, pull yourself together. This isn’t his night,” she muttered, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

This was Jonas’s party. Distraction. Fun. No Bas.

She sighed, staring at her reflection.What exactly are you expecting? That he’ll suddenly notice you tonight?

Of course, it was about him. Who was she kidding? A small laugh escaped her as she caught herself in her own naivety.

You spent two hours getting ready just to impress him.

She shook her head immediately, but a faint smile lingered on her lips.

Okay, maybe I’ll see him... but I’ll stay totally cool. No feelings, no drama. Just act like he’s not even there.

And yet, maybe—just maybe—there was a tiny spark inside her that hoped he would see her.

She hated that it mattered to her. But it did.

After all, he was the only one who had ever truly understood her.

And still... she wasn’t going to chase after him tonight.

No, she had promised herself that.

The warm bronze tone of her dress complemented her skin, making it glow under the soft golden light spilling in from the hallway.

With a deep breath, she grabbed her bag and walked toward the door, heels clicking softly against the wooden floor.

___________

The rhythm of the music pulsed through the warm night air as she pushed open the door to the garden, the scent of freshly cut grass and summer blooms wrapping around her. The vibration of the bass resonated in her chest, and the fleeting thought of him sent a tingling sensation down her thighs.

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