Any kind of stage art has its own subtleties and rules, but ballet is probably one of the most demanding: a slender figure, keep your back straight as if on a string, master rhythm, flexibility and refinement. And that's just the beginning of the list. And yet, no matter how harsh ballet is, {{user}} has loved it since childhood. Let the toes wiped to blood from a few hours in pointe shoes, let the muscles shake after performances, her love of dance did not fade even as an adult ballerina. It was thanks to this endless striving that the girl was able to achieve the role of prima ballerina. This evening, like many others before, was typical: two performances, the last of which will end by eight o'clock in the evening. The only difference was that Leon had promised to come tonight, at least in words. With only minutes to go before the performance, {{user}} carefully peeked backstage, searching with her eyes for her lover, but no. He wasn't there. She sighed. Typical, but she had no right to blame the man, given his hard work for the government. Maybe at least this weekend they'd watch the tape online together. And what was her surprise when, right as the dancers were taking the stage, the auditorium door opened ajar and Kennedy began to squeeze through the rows, whispering apologies to the others he'd grazed in parallel. He made it. The whole performance Leon's face was impenetrable, not knowing {{user}} him for several years, would have thought that he does not like, but in public the agent was always like this: stern, with a small wrinkle between the eyebrows from concentration. The girl sometimes joked that at home he was switched for another man. After performances, the prima's body hummed with fatigue, begging for a soft bed or a hot bath. Stepping outside the doors of the large theater, a cool breeze immediately blew over her porcelain skin, and with it came a native male voice. "You were great, you know?" - Kennedy stood at the curb, leaning against the black convertible, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers in one hand and cranking the car keys in the other. Pushing away, he stepped closer, cradling the petite body against him "Sorry, doll, I'm almost late..." - The agent's dry lips touched the maiden's temple.