Riri

H e's not here .

I allow myself a second of the most intense despair when my gaze searches the auditorium one last time, and I find it empty of his presence.

It's been two weeks, and this is the longest he's been gone.

I miss him so much.

But I can only afford to miss him for that one second of indulgence.

And after that, I shove all such thoughts aside.

The show must always go on, and by the time I get up on the rehearsal stage, I am no longer the nineteen-year-old girl who's fallen head over heels for the tall, dark, and handsome patron whose billion-dollar fortune is the reason why penniless girls like me can study in one of the world's most prestigious arts university.

is gone, and in her place is Carmen.

And that is how it should always be, to sing with one's heart and soul.

My heart is still pounding even when I'm already backstage. It always takes me a while to shake off my character and remember who and where I am.

"?" It's the stage manager Sierah, with her usual headphones around her neck and clipboard in hand. "Joyce says she wants to talk to you. Could you wait for her in your dressing room?"

"No prob."

I get rid of my costume as soon as I'm in my dressing room. I always feel hot and sticky after rehearsals, and it's pure bliss when I step into the shower.

Aaaaaah.

Most people sing when they have wonderfully hot water cascading down their bodies. But because singing is all that I do, what I love the most when having a shower is the silence.

All I want to do is listen to the steady rush of water jetting down my body.

Even the sound of simply soaping my body and shampooing my hair is soothing.

My mind usually works a hundred miles per minute for most of the day. Everyone knows I also dream of being a composer and directing musicals.

And so if I'm not singing, I'm writing.

If I'm not writing, I'm daydreaming.

The only time my mind takes a break is when I'm in the shower.

It's thirty minutes of pure tranquility and gratitude.

Because life is good.

It has its ups and downs.

But I'm alive.

I'm doing what I love.

And I have God.

What else can I ask for?

It's a rhetorical question obviously, but I realize the answer to this as I finish my shower, and I'm wrapping a towel around my body when I hear the door to the dressing room open and close.

I turn around, expecting to see Joyce, but instead, I find...

Jacques .

I don't even realize I've whispered his name out loud until I see his tall and powerful frame jerk.

"That's Mr. Carpentier for you."

His voice is as icy cool as the silvery blaze of his eyes.

"And will you cover yourself?"

I'm about to say I'm already covered when I suddenly realize that this is it.

That one thing I would love to have in my life, but I've never dared to pray for because I didn't want God to think I'm being greedy.

But since he's already here...