I turned and saw my coach Debra Jasinski rushing onto the stage.
“This dance is Darcey’s original work,” she said firmly. “I can vouch for her. I’ve witnessed every step, from her initial concept to the choreography!”
Ginger didn’t even flinch, just smiled faintly. “Miss Jasinski, are you sure about that? You do realize giving false testimony is a serious legal offense, right?”
Miss Jasinski hesitated for a moment but quickly firmed up her stance. “I’m only telling the truth.”
“Well then,” Ginger said, pulling out a document from her assistant’s hand. “This is the creative registration from the Paris Opera Ballet School, dated October of last year. Miss Jasinski, can you prove Darcey Lynn was working on her piece before that?”
Miss Jasinski went silent. She couldn’t. I had only started creating this dance earlier this year.
“That’s enough,” I blurt out, my voice strangely coming out steady. “I’m withdrawing from the competition.”
With that, I turned to leave the stage.
But Ginger wasn’t done. “Can withdrawing erase the fact that you plagiarized?” she said coldly. “I suggest the judges take this matter seriously as a warning to the other contestants.”
I stopped and stared back at her. This woman wasn’t satisfied with just taking my love—she wanted to destroy my dreams too.
But what was the point of arguing? No matter how many explanations I’d make, they would appear powerless against her carefully made-up story.
One last time, I looked at Ulysses. Finally, he raised his head, and our eyes met.
For a brief moment, I saw hesitation and pain in his gaze.
But in the end… he chose to stay silent.
That was it.
I turned and walked off the stage, ignoring the rising buzz of murmurs behind me.
By the time I reached backstage, I heard Ginger announcing she’d perform the dance again—this time as the original creator.
The worst part? She danced it really beautifully.
Of course, she did. She’d had plenty of time to dissect every move and every expression. She didn’t just steal my work—she wanted to parade it in front of everyone like it was hers all along.
I didn’t look back. I just kept walking until I was out of the venue.
It was drizzling outside. I stood there in the rain, letting the cold drops soak my whole body.
And at that moment, I finally got it—some things can’t be kept… no matter how hard you try.
Like my feelings for Ulysses.
Like my dream of becoming a professional ballet dancer.