EVELESSA The music starts before I’m ready.Which is ironic, because I’ve been ready for this my whole life.The stage lights dim, then bloom into gold and shadow. The floor beneath my bare feet is cool, grounding. My body knows this space. Knows how to breathe here.My partner steps beside me.Jax.Talented, focused and respectful.“Ready?” he murmurs.“Always,” I reply.The music drops.I become one with the sound as I forget about the crowd watching as we dance.My body flows, sharp then soft, hips rolling, spine arching, arms cutting the air with intention. Jax mirrors me, complements me, catches my momentum when the choreography demands contact.A lift.His hands at my waist—professional, clean.I trust him.The crowd reacts. I feel it without looking. Gasps. Murmurs. Heat rising.Then—I feel Cassain.Not his presence.His mood.It hits like a pressure shift, like the air itself tightens.I glance toward the front row.He’s standing.Not seated like the others.Standing.His ar
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