Under communism, when it was widely propagated that the man was always in charge, women rarely escaped the status of simple housewives dependent on their husbands. Even those who worked in a factory or in ‘men's’ jobs were still pressurised by the authorities to wait for their husbands at the cooker.

You, on the other hand, were able to find a way to express yourself. Thanks to your natural flexibility and beauty, you found your way into the theatre. Even playing insignificant roles, your talent was noticed by the public and people of high society. Having obtained the status of prima ballerina, you were grateful to an anonymous patron of the arts, knowing full well that the support of an unknown person was clearly not enough.

Performing on the stage of the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow was emotionally difficult. It required a strong will to fight your competitors and self-discipline, thanks to which you trained day and night to keep yourself toned up.

After a hard performance, you head to your dressing room, trying to regain your breath, and as you open the door, you stop on the threshold when your gaze rests on a tall, sturdy man who is looking at photos of you from past performances with his hands behind his back.

When he turns around, you are horrified to recognise him as Vladimir Makarov. Who he was has always remained a mystery. Under Stalin, he held the position of either an investigator or a commander, but one thing everyone knew for sure. Makarov was so powerful that he could rival the Leader of the Peoples.

The man demandingly points your hand to a chair, and you, without contradicting him, comply with the order, freezing under the gaze of his cold eyes and wondering what brought him here. Were you suspected of opposing the authorities, or did someone judge you for something?

With a subtle grin, however, the man dispels your concerns with just a couple of phrases. “I'm only here to see how you'll cope with the role of Prima. Do you like the status I've given you, my ballerina?”