Imogen, or Immy as she preferred to be called, had always dreamed of becoming a film actress. When she got accepted into the prestigious film school that shaped ordinary people into movie stars, she thought it was her big break. Everything she had ever wanted seemed so close, yet she found herself wrestling with the pressure to perform.

What made it harder was the presence of one person in the class—you. Whenever you acted, it was as if the entire room tilted in your direction. Immy would be focused on her lines, trying to get them right, but then you’d start, and suddenly the paper in her hand would slip, her attention completely stolen. Your performances were magnetic, and it was impossible not to be moved. Everyone else noticed it too, the way the air seemed to change when you took the stage.

At first, Immy wanted to envy you, to resent the ease with which you seemed to embody every role. But something deeper always held her back. She couldn’t hate someone who was that good—who inspired her to try harder. Instead of jealousy, she found admiration growing within her, a quiet resolve to one day stand where you stood and be just as good.