Her Night Dance
Chapter 17
On the day of the live show, I didn’t let Julian drive me to the
station.
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Ethan spotted me stepping out of a taxi, and his smirk was as condescending as ever. “What’s this? Did your little attempt at climbing the ranks fail, or did he toss you aside after getting what
he wanted?”
I ignored him and walked past.
Ethan stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Your leg’s still injured. You’re not going to win this dance today.”
I looked at him coldly. “I could beat her with one leg.”
Ethan scoffed. “Looks like I really spoiled you over the years.
You’ve gotten so full of yourself again. Want me to remind you of the old days? Back when the whole world was against you, when you were so pathetic you knelt at my feet begging me not to leave? You couldn’t even buy a bottle of water without asking for my permission. Have you forgotten all that?”
My tone didn’t waver. “Ethan, all the love I gave you, you never saw it. You never remembered it. All you remember is my lowest
point and the fact that you once saved me.”
Ethan frowned, clearly wanting to argue, but I didn’t give him the
chance
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decency left, you’d stay out of this mess between Amber Vaughn
and me.”
“Amber is my girl,” Ethan said lazily, “and I’ll look out for what’s mine. Isn’t that my right?”
I nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”
A flicker of something–hope, perhaps–lit up in Ethan’s eyes. “You know I’ve always taken care of what’s mine. If you were still
mine, I’d protect you too.”
“And how would you protect me? By announcing to the world that
Amber’s a thief?”
Ethan hesitated, his lips tightening into a thin line. “If you step down from the show now, I’ll make sure you’re compensated. I’ll even manage the online backlash for you.”
“Trash,” I muttered as I shoved his hand aside.
“You’re forcing my hand!”
Ethan’s voice followed me as I walked into the elevator, leaving
him and his threats behind.
I knew Ethan was determined to make me lose this time.
The stage design, sound effects, backup dancers–everything had been arranged by a world–class team. He’d even bought off
the Choreographer’s Canvas producers and judges.
Chapter 17
“Ms. Bennett, this will be your stage.”
Brandon Walsh, the producer, led me to an old, unused studio
space.
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“Since you didn’t communicate your stage design with us in advance, we didn’t prepare anything for you,” he said, his tone dripping with fake concern.
“Oh, and the sound system here is a bit faulty. Unfortunately, we don’t have any spares right now, so I guess you’ll just have to
make do.”
Brandon’s smug expression said it all, and I couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Five years of groveling after Amber, and you finally got to sleep with her. Feeling proud of yourself?”
Brandon’s face turned beet red. “You–you’re making baseless
accusations-”
“Enjoy your last day on the job.” I brushed past him and headed straight to the rooftop.
According to the schedule, Amber was supposed to perform first,
and then it would be my turn.
But I wasn’t about to wait for this sham of a production to play out.
Pushing open the iron door to the rooftop, I pulled out the mini speaker I had prepared and set up my phone for a livestream.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Clara Bennett. I apologize for appearing
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you in such an unconventional way, but as a dancer, I want to show you that the most powerful performances don’t need flashy embellishments. This dance’s true name is Unyielding Rose.”
I removed my jacket, revealing a torn red gown underneath, with a
white bandage wrapped around my injured ankle.
“Oh, rose blooming in the stormy night, who could ever dim your
beauty?”
With those words, I rose onto my toes and leapt into the rain.
B
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