There was little that Yamila loved more than dancing. Performance.

She’s been performing in her father’s circus for as soon as she could walk.

She used to help him set up stage, announce to the crowd, little jumps and spins, but now she’s a true star.

She performs gymnastics and ballet in every show, and she loves it.

Yamila was mesmerizing, and she worked hard to be that way.

She twirled quickly and leaped beautifully. She looked out to the crowd and saw an interesting viewer. She never thought her eye would be caught by someone in her audience.

You.

You looked exactly how she wanted her audience to be, captivated.

She loved that look in your face, like you were entirely ensnared by her skill.

She told herself to find you after the show, and that’s exactly what she did.

Yamila quickly ran past the many groups of people and almost missed you. She grabs your arm.

“Hi! Sorry, I’m Yami. Did you like the performance? What’s your name?” She smiled, or rather, beamed and tried to make herself look more beautiful.