There's just so much glitter. Sequins too. It's like the Eras Tour exploded in here. Compared to the rest of the monochrome gym, it's like being on another planet. Planet pink.

I swing my legs, which are hanging over the medical bed in time to the latest Evie Wilde hit as the doctor types something rapidly on her laptop. She hums along cheerfully to the tune, her array of curls bouncing along to the beat.

"Thanks again for seeing me... this is not exactly what I expected to see in a gym called Annihilation..." I continue glancing around the room. "Are those unicorns disco dancing?" My eyes widen as I spot the rainbow-coloured unicorns strutting under disco lights on the curtains surrounding the bed. The doctor chuckles.

"Well, this is my office and I'm not about to let my big brother tell me what to do. The unicorns really make that vein in his neck pop out." She glances up from her laptop, whispering playfully before bursting into more giggles.

"Anders is your brother?" I can't hide the surprise in my voice.

"Uh-huh. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor. I was playing with a stethoscope before I could walk, but after Anders got injured and had to retire early, I switched to sports medicine. People take one look at the pink and think they're getting a quack, but I promise you, nepotism aside, I am genuinely the best doctor this place could have."

I adore this girl already. "I love your confidence."

She shrugs, still typing. "I'm surrounded by alpha males all day. All the glitter and sparkles unsettles them, makes them drop their guard and actually admit they're in pain. Plus... I really love pink. It's a win-win, really."

"Yeah, they're a charming bunch, aren't they? That guy on reception has manners like a..."

She spins on her chair so fast she bangs against her desk, making a collection of Disney princess bobble-heads quiver.

"You mean Tyler? I didn't think he was working today."

I nod, watching her cheeks flush and her freckled-nose twitch. Apparently, the little glitter loving doctor has a weakness for grumpy older guys with eyebrow scars.

"I'm pretty sure he only let me in to wind up your brother."

She smiles dreamily. "He's Anders' best friend. He's the only one who can get away with stuff like that. Besides me anyway."

"His manners need a little work."

"He's a better trainer than a receptionist, that's for sure. He's just filling in as a favour to Anders."

She rolls herself back to her laptop, the wheel of her chair squeaking loudly. "So, let's get back to your knee. Anders said you're a ballerina, right?" She doesn't look up from her laptop.

I nod. "Yes, or I was, anyway..."

"The one who's training Daniel Knight?"

I exhale, rolling my eyes. "If another person describes me as the enemy, I might carve it into my forehead."

She turns, laughing hard. The freckles on her nose leaping out again.

"Nah, that whole enemy thing is mostly just to sell tickets. Or it should be... Don't let my brother's..." She waves her arms as she searches in vain to find the word to describe the walking scowl that is Anders. "...face... fool you. He's not as unreasonable as people think. Plus, he really respects Xander. He's the real reason you're here, right?"

"I just came to drop off his jacket. He'd given it to me when it was cold and left it behind." I respond quickly. Too quickly.

She grins, and I feel my cheeks heat again.

"He guards that thing with his life. I think he might have inherited it or something. It's hard to imagine he'd forget it... it's almost like he wanted another reason to see you..." She wiggles her eyebrows almost unnaturally.

"Any thoughts on my knee?" I ask, sharply changing the subject. She nods, letting the humour drop from her face and back into slick professionalism.

Connie spins in her chair to face me directly. She's almost more hair than person. She has a cloud of rust-coloured ringlets that halo her head and cascade down her shoulders. Her round face is nothing like her brother's, though her intense dark eyes mirror his.

"So... your knee seems fine to me. I can't see any sign that the dislocation hasn't completely healed." She has a musical voice that clashes with the seriousness of her words. "I'd lay off the heels for a while, if you're experiencing any pain."

I exhale, zipping my boots back up and slipping from the bed. "It doesn't hurt when I wear heels. It only ever hurts when I dance."

"Can I ask how it happened? Anders had only read about it online and I couldn't find much detail."

I swallow hard, trying and failing to keep the waves of emotions down as the memory slams into me. "It was my first performance since... I'd been away for a few days, and... when I was in the middle of a solo..."

I was focused on a spot in the audience for a turn, around and around the world spun, but I held that spot. And then it hit me. In that sea of blank faces, I would never see Mum's again. I'm not sure what happened next. Did the blackness come first or when I crashed to the floor? I don't know, but I know when the shooting pain dragged me back from the darkness that my knee was bent unnaturally and I could barely breathe through the pain. "I dislocated my knee during a turn."

And I haven't danced the same since. And nobody can really give me a reason why.

"Who did you lose?"

Her words cut through the daze of bitter memories, and it's only then I realise my eyes have grown wet. I wipe them quickly with my sleeve and look away. The kindness in her gaze is too much.

"Anders and I lost our mum a few years ago. It was sudden and I'm not sure either of us coped that well. Not that coping well is really a thing in that situation. I mean no offence..." she adds gently. "I just recognise that expression. I've seen it on my own face plenty of times in the last couple of years." Her voice is soft, fading as her own sadness presses down on her words.

Finally, I nod. "The same. I mean... it was my mum I lost, too. Losing her is one thing, but losing ballet... that's one thing too many."

"I understand." She falls silent, and I know she's waiting for more. For me to open up to her, but I can't, I won't. I miss Mum like crazy, but talking about it doesn't bring her back. It doesn't soothe the ache inside my chest, it just reminds me it's there.

"Do you know what's wrong with my knee?"

She frowns and purses her lips. "Your knee feels fine. Obviously, I would need more tests to check for anything else, but... it sounds from what you've said you've had every possible test run. I don't have the facilities here, but if you pop down to the clinic, I'd be happy to run them again."

I offer a grateful smile even though inside I feel anything but. I wonder why I allowed Anders to herd me up here. She's very sweet, and certainly makes a colourful change to the usual parade of mansplaining beards, but she's offering me nothing new. In truth, I hadn't expected anything else.

"It's fine. I saw a doctor a few weeks ago who thinks he can help. He's a specialist surgeon. He usually works in the States or Russia, but he's here until September. He's got this new procedure, which should help with the pain." I tie up my Burberry mac as the doctor watches me, pursing her lips.

"And what's his name? Has he confirmed what's causing the pain? And what exactly is this procedure..."

I shrug, her words already fading away as I focus on getting back to training Daniel and away from this room. I'm wasting my time here.

"It's experimental, but it worked on my friend Maria's hip injury and she's back in the Moscow Ballet now. He's exactly what I need."

Her lips are so tight they've disappeared into her mouth. "And presumably he's not cheap. That's why you're training Daniel."

I laugh, brushing my hair from my shoulders. "Are you NHS? How much would I be paying if your brother and Xander hadn't asked you to see me?"

Her expression doesn't change. "Will you come to the clinic, please? Let me run the tests again. Please. I'm sure you're right. I'm not a specialist in dance injuries. He probably knows more than me."

I hesitate. The last thing I want is more pointless tests, especially with another doctor convinced all I need is time. I've already run out of time. What I need is my career back.

"Humour me. I like a mystery. If this doctor has seen something the others haven't, I want to know so I can spot it in the future." She beams, her entire face lighting up, and I feel my resolve cracking.

I sigh. The warmth in her smile finally breaks me.

"Fine. Send me the address and I'll pop down."

"Fabulous." She squeals, clapping her hands together happily.

"I better go. I have my own collection of alpha males I have to contend with." I wink at her and head to the door. She leaps up so quickly I flinch.

"Do you know your way down? I can call up Tyler? Get him to pop up and pick you up? It's no trouble." Her hand is already hovering over a phone on her desk.

I bite my tongue to hold back a giggle. "No, honestly, it's fine..." I try to hide my smirk when I see her adjust her hair. Her face falls, but she gets up and walks me to the door.

"Thank you for seeing me."

"It's no problem. And listen, I'm pretty new to London, and as delightful as the guys here are, I'd actually love to talk to someone about something other than boxing. If you ever fancy some company, or a coffee, we could moan about alpha males together, if you'd like."

"I'd like that." And I surprise myself by meaning it. It's been a long time since I've had a friend outside of ballet and the thought of it is a welcoming one.

"Yay, I'm so excited." She grins, and then her face turns serious, sharply. "Are you hundred percent sure you don't need me to call Tyler?"