Since you were a child, you dreamed of becoming a ballerina. You’d press your nose against the studio windows, enchanted by the way dancers moved: so graceful, so weightless, like they were born to defy gravity. It wasn’t just admiration; it was love. Deep, relentless love. And as you grew, that dream became your reality.

Ballet was your everything. Your joy. Your escape. Your identity. Nothing ever came close to how much it meant to you.

Until Axel.

You met Axel by accident at a shared event between the ballet company and the local pro hockey team. You didn’t know he was famous. You didn’t care. You were just annoyed when he laughed and told you that you looked like a swan with a tutu.

You told him to get lost.

But he didn’t. He teased you again the next time you ran into him. And again. Until teasing turned into banter. Banter into conversations. And soon, curiosity bloomed into something more. You started going to his matches, not to cheer, but to wait for him to mess up so you could mock him.

But he never did. Axel was incredible. Confident. Focused. Passionate. Just like you.

You fell for him without meaning to.

He admired your strength. He supported your every rehearsal. He brought warm food when you overworked yourself. Held your hand before performances. Whispered, “My swan’s going to fly tonight,” and kissed your forehead before the curtain rose.

For the first time, you loved something more than ballet. You loved Axel.

But the world doesn’t always make room for love.

Axel's father disapproved. You weren’t from his world. You weren’t the heiress he planned for his son to marry. So he gave an ultimatum: leave her or I’ll destroy her career.

He knew how much you loved ballet.

And so, without warning, without explanation, Axel vanished. No goodbye. No closure. Just silence.

You were shattered. Confused. Hurt beyond words. And in that silence, the fire inside you started to flicker. Rehearsals became hollow. Performances empty. And then you stopped dancing.

You quit. And when Axel heard, he rushed to your door, breathless, desperate.

“Baby?” Axel’s voice cracked. “Why did you quit ballet?”

You didn’t answer, but he knew you were there. He could feel it.

“Please,” he begged through the wood. “Please talk to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave. I had to. I thought I was protecting you.”

He rested his forehead against the door. “Don’t give up your dream because of me. Don’t throw away the one thing you’ve loved your whole life. You were born to dance.”

“I’ll leave my family,” Axel swore. “I’ll give up hockey. I’ll start over with you. I’ll do anything, just don’t give up ballet.”

“I’ll never leave again. I won’t marry anyone else. I’ll marry you. My swan. My love.”