Heaven

PROS:

Eat more than 1,000 calories a day if I want to.

Be there for someone's birthday.

Travel at a moment's notice.

Not have aching feet for more than a week.

A chance to move into a four-season state!

CONS:

Not enough $$$$ in the bank.

One wrong move and I'm dead!

closed her Notes app with a sigh. It was on the first week of spring that she had told herself to seriously consider the state of her life and whether a change was required. It was the last week of summer now, but she still hadn't gotten anywhere close to deciding anything .

Because you're a coward, that's why!

bit back another sigh. In the romance novels she read, the heroine's "inner voice" was usually nice and gentle. Like a sweet angel, for instance. So how was it that in real life, her inner voice sounded more like a grumpy old man?

continued to struggle with indecision as she headed out for work. Heads turned as she walked past other people, with most men instantly attracted to her doll-like looks while the other women either snubbed or glared at her out of envy.

But since vanity had never been her greatest sin, remained completely unaware of any of this. If anything, her biggest challenge in life was her lack of confidence. With her mother dying shortly after her remarriage, three-year-old had been left in her stepfather's care.

And while he had cared for her and even spoiled her the best he could, he was also an extremely controlling man with an impossible ego. In her years growing up, Henry would constantly tell her she was never smart enough to do things on her own and that she would never succeed without her guidance.

Sadly, a tiny part of her still believed this, even when she had now been fending for herself for years, while he was the one behind bars.

made it to the bus stop in time, but when she heard another woman calling out frantically for the driver to wait...

pretended to lose her balance right after tapping the scanner with her bus card, and by the time she was back on her feet, the other woman was already climbing up the bus steps.

Phew!

A vacant seat caught her eye, but just as was about to sit down, someone shoved her away, and the next thing she knew, it was that same woman already occupying the seat and deliberately avoiding 's gaze.

Um...wow?

moved to the back until there was a grab bar she could hold on to.

C'est la vie, thought with a mental shrug.

Having grown up with a stepfather who didn't think twice about cheating just to beat in a game of Monopoly, this was nothing new at all.

The bus finally began its journey to its next stop, and since she still had four stops to go,

's mind began entertaining flashbacks of the past.

She had been fourteen years old when the academy had gifted her with a scholarship, and two years after that, they had also offered her board and lodging, in light of the "change" in her circumstances.

In return, had been expected to participate in every show and program of the Academy as well as volunteer her non-working hours on "special" occasions.

If I go, people might think I'm ungrateful.

And crazy, for giving up a job that most people only dream of.

But if I stay...

I'm also taking a job that should belong to someone who has been dreaming of a job like mine.

And that someone hasn't been me for a long time already.

GIRLS WERE ALREADY bustling to and fro when entered the changing room, but no one bothered to meet her gaze or say hello.

This, however, was nothing new. Grace was the oldest dance academy in Florida and the only one whose history and accomplishments more than matched its European counterparts.

Admission to Grace was extremely competitive, and its tuition unapologetically prohibitive. The majority of its students came from America's most prestigious families, and that was probably why , thought ruefully, she had been labeled an outcast from day one.

was the only student in Grace who hadn't the right connections and bloodlines. Even worse, she had a "past" that other students (and their parents) considered a horrible insult to Grace's legacy.

Girls of Grace were supposed to have picture-perfect childhoods, and the fact that she did not automatically made her a dis grace in everyone's eyes.

changed into her training gear, and after a few moments, everyone around her started talking again.

"I just can't believe this is happening!"

mentally nodded in agreement. Me, too. While over five hundred students were currently enrolled in Académie de Danse Fleur de Grace, only twenty of them had been selected to participate in what was dubbed as this year's most important event.

How incredible it was that was one of those twenty...even when ballet no longer had her heart.

"It's insane, right? This is the first-ever collaboration that Bellegard has offered. Aren't we the luckiest that their fall collection is inspired by ballet?"

"But don't you think it's odd? I mean, why ballet, of all themes?"

"Well, why not?"

"Maybe it's because of her..."

All eyes swung in 's direction at the words, but she pretended not to notice.

Here we go again, same old, same old.

There was just no convincing people who didn't want to like her. And the other girls had made this clear from the start, with the way they continuously made up the wildest and craziest rumors about her.

Last she heard, she was supposed to have this wealthy benefactor who was thrice her age and was thus the "real" reason behind her acceptance to Grace.

"Isn't the oldest Bellegard divorced? And there's been whispers about an affair..."

mentally shook her head. It really was the same thing over and over again. Couldn't they be more creative with their lies at least?

Oh, whatever.

It was time to tune everyone out and get to work.

turned her focus to her clothes.

Tights. Wrap skirt. Leg warmers.

All of it was rather worn and tired-looking, which shouldn't be the case at all... if the rumors were true about being a rich old man's mistress .

Stop it, . Just let it go.

turned around in front of the mirror.

No holes at least.

And still functional in every way, which was what mattered the most.

She slipped into a loose sweater, which was also threadbare in some parts.

Still functional though, she reminded herself. And again, that was what mattered the most.

headed straight to the training hall from the changing room. A five-foot-high runway had been assembled for today's rehearsals, but it was only a third of the normal width.

Unlike normal runway shows in which models were simply expected to walk, turn, and pose, and the others had been asked to walk, turn, and pose...as well as to spin, glide, and jump on point while parading Bellegard's latest collection.

A challenge, for sure, but it at least made feel rather excited, which she hadn't felt for quite some time.

studied the runway while mentally rehearsing her routine.

Mm.

Since there was no one else around, perhaps she could give it a try?

knelt down and adjusted the straps of her shoes.

Worn-out soles, but still functional, and that was what mattered the most.

A cloud of booze struck her nostrils as straightened up. Someone shoved past her from behind a second later, and the scent of alcohol grew stronger.

Her head jerked up.

Who in the world would—-oh.

's face turned expressionless as she watched Micah Wilfrey climb the stairs leading up the runway.

Micah was not only Grace's most successful graduate. She was also widely acknowledged as the most commercially successful ballerina, having been featured on the front covers of leading fashion and swimsuit magazines as well as playing minor but critically acclaimed roles in a select number of Hollywood blockbuster films.

She was everyone's darling...and that was why knew.

It's the same thing all over again.

Once upon a time, her stepfather was just like Micah. He was his law firm's brightest shining star, a man who had never tasted defeat in the courtroom. He had everything going for him...until he didn't.

Because success always came with pressure, and to relieve himself from the stress, Henry started gambling and drinking. But as the pressure had grown, so had the time he spent in casinos and bars. And when he had started losing cases, Henry's solution had been to drink and gamble more...until there was nothing left, and so he had resorted to blackmailing his own clients.

One look at Micah, and she knew the same thing could happen. She had no idea what Micah's problems were, but the signs were all there when one knew what to look for.

Just like Henry, the other woman was trying to chase away her personal demons with alcohol....and she would fail to do so if no one cared to force her to face the truth.

Don't say a word.

You're only asking for trouble.

This isn't your fight.

But logic was no match for the cries of 's conscience. It was impossible to simply stand by and do or even say nothing at all when she knew where Micah would soon find herself...if she wasn't forced to see the truth.

Micah's gait was noticeably uneven as she climbed the short flight of steps leading up to the runaway.

Oh no.

couldn't help moving forward when she saw Micah start swaying.

Not good.

Micah's gaze swung sharply in her direction all of a sudden. "What are you looking at?"

"I just...are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," the other woman snarled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Because you're drunk.

The words hovered at the tip of her tongue, but even when managed to hold them back, it seemed as if Micah had still heard her, with the way the older woman was now staring at her with unconcealed rage.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I—-"

"You think you know everything about me?"

"I didn't mean—-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! You think you're better than me because you're younger? Because you're sober and I'm not? Watch and learn, darling."

's blood turned cold when Micah suddenly started walking down the runway, and the level of intoxication became all the more evident. "Please—-"

"Fuck you! Can't you see I've got——"

Everything happened too fast after that.

Micah falling off the runway just as Madame Arquette entered the training room—-

"Mon Dieu, Micah!"

The other girls gasping in horror as their gazes flew from to Micah—-

"She pushed me, Madame! She pushed me!"

And all could do was stand there in shock as a sobbing Micah picked herself up from the floor and ran past her in a cunning reversal of roles.

It was as if she was the one who had been bullying Micah all this time, and didn't know whether to laugh or cry as Madame Arquette demanded shrilly for an explanation.

If I act fast now, I can get them to test her with a breathalyzer from the clinic, and they'll know Micah was drunk.

But after that, Micah could lose her career for good.

If I don't say a word in my defense, I could lose my scholarship.

And isn't that what I've wanted all along?

Could this be fate making my decision for me?