I have to get home. Her mantra just kept repeating itself on a loop as she stumbled through the clinic. It was like a second home to her due to the amount of times she ended up here. Nicolette considered the staff here her second family, since they took better care of her than her actual family. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, most of which centered around the intimidating man that brought her in, that she stopped registering the things her eyes were seeing.

Consequently, Nicolette first crashed into a cart of wrapped syringes and gloves, then in her haste to fix things she backed into a row of IV racks, and when she tried to fix that mess instead, she knocked an intern over causing papers to fly everywhere. The staff was used to the human catastrophe that is Nicolette Dannenberg, but Remington wasn't. He was torn between second hand embarrassment and rolling on the floor with tears down his face at the scene he just witnessed. Despite the choices in front of him, he instead walked up and placed one hand on Nicolettes shoulder. She looked up at him with fear, pain and exhaustion in her eyes for a split second, then she blinked and it was all locked away. If Remington wasn't familiar with the emotions himself, he wouldn't have caught them as they flashed in her gray eyes.

"Are you okay? That was quite spectacular." Remington laughed, slightly concerned as Nicolette winced with every shift of her feet. She laughed lightly, and nodded. "I'll probably be a little bruised later, but what's new there? I'm notoriously clumsy." She shrugged off the burning pain in her ribs and thighs. Her whole body ached, and all she wanted to do was sleep. "Wait what?" Her words threw Remingtons for a loop. What does she mean, it's nothing new? Concern flooded his body for the slender girl in front of him. Remington couldn't explain it, but he felt oddly protective over her.

"It's nothing. Hey, thanks again Remington. Really, I appreciate it. Just uh, try not to rescue anymore damsels around here, okay? It's a rough place." Nicolette saluted Remington as she limped away from him, his hand falling limply to his side in awe as she skittered away. What was with this girl that made her just dance in and out of his head?

Later that day, Nicolette was hunkered in her too dark home with her too bright screen, definitely destroying her eyesight more. Her thick framed glasses sat on the bridge of her nose as she stared intently at what could possibly be her most impressive creation yet. Graphic design was her paying career, excluding the odd payment from some particularly invested patrons of her recitals. Nicolette loved every second of her job, as it allowed her to work from home and just create at all ends of the day. She pushed her square frames up her nose until her eyelashes were crushed against the lenses, and stretched as she saved her document for the last time, finally perfect.

Nicolette's body felt stiff from the lower back up, and her legs had fallen asleep as she hunched over her crossed legs. She hissed in discontent as she looked at how her feet were doing, peeking under the ice packs she had strapped on them for the past who knew how long. They weren't actually ice packs anymore, but plastic bags of room temperature water. Nicolette stood up shakily, and shuffled to her window where the curtains were drawn. She pulled them back and just stared outside.

The sun was just beginning to set, it's light being tolerable enough to stare directly at it. The sky was painted with increasingly darkening shades of blues, oranges, and pinks. It was times and scenes like these that reminded her why she kept going on, instead of just sinking into the abyss of her bed and darkened thoughts. Her thoughts traveled to her ballet, and how fulfilled she felt when she danced. She put her heart and soul into every twirl, pirouette, arabesque and grand jeté she forced her body to do. Her ballet was an escape from reality, just a way to put her mind on autopilot and increase her dopamine output.

But it didn't bring her happiness. It gave her fulfillment, sure, but not joy. Nicolette danced to give herself a feeling of content. With that less than uplifting thought lingering in her head and tainting her memories, she started rifling through her mail. A particularly interesting return address on a thick envelope made her blink twice, even take off her glasses and rub her eyes. Nicolette squinted and held the envelope up to her face to try and read the address without her glasses, but sighed at her own stupidity and just out them back on. She's basically as blind as a bat, there was no point in her even trying to read without her glasses or contacts.

With trembling hands, she delicately opened the official feeling envelope and pulled out an entire packet, along with a short letter.

From: Paris Opera Ballet
To: Miss Nicolette Dannenberg

Dear Miss Dannenberg,

     We hope that this letter does not come as an inconvenience to you. It has come to our attention that you are looking for a new role to play, and with much analysis, we at Paris Opera Ballet have noticed that you would fit into the leading position in our upcoming performance of The Maid of Evelyn. Please, read over the quick abstract of the production, and email us entailing your opinion before September 5, 2019.

          Thank you, and we hope to be hearing from you soon.

Nicolette couldn't believe her eyes. The esteemed Paris Opera Ballet wanted her- her- to audition for the leading role in one of their productions.

An opportunity like this would set her place in the world for life. She would never be able to move past it, it would be her greatest triumph.

What am I going to do?