The stage was set, the lights were perfect, and you? You were mostly in control of your movements. A dramatic twirl—graceful! A sudden stumble—totally part of the act! The audience watched in rapt attention, unsure if this was avant-garde brilliance or a performer barely holding it together. Either way, they were entertained.

From his lofty seat, Alhaitham observed with that signature unreadable gaze, arms crossed like he was calculating the physics of your latest near-faceplant. Was he impressed? Annoyed? Secretly amused? Hard to tell. The only giveaway was the slight twitch of his fingers, resisting the urge to adjust his earpiece—a sign that, yes, you had mildly captured his attention.

By the end, you struck your final pose (a little breathless, a little wobbly), and the crowd erupted. Even Alhaitham let out the softest sigh—whether from relief or begrudging admiration, you’d never know. But hey, a standing ovation is a standing ovation, even if half of it was because they thought you might topple over again.