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Maria had been there before.

The 23rd annual JOY Gala, organised by the very wealthy, Giovanni Adami, was an event she couldn't miss. The investor adored her - and was obsessed with the way she could exhibit a story through her alluring voice, her dance, connect with her audience leaving them speechless and astounded. It was for this reason that she was performing there that night; not only to benefit and represent her company but to donate to a good cause, one Giovanni doted on after the death of his wife; cancer research.

Expectant spectators filled the auditorium, all dressed in their expensive fitted suits, tailored dresses and limited edition accessories. The audience that night was to impress, she could not disappoint her future partners. That was what made her anxious, the fear of ruining it all for herself, her company and her dancers. She was always confident in herself, her ability but could never shake the fear of failure.

They were all in anticipation waiting for her on the other side of the grand velvet curtains, hiding away the awaiting orchestra, the nervous dancers, all the fixed props. All was in position and it wasn't long until she was due on stage for the main performance.

She had been preparing for that performance for months, evident through the callouses, bruises, scars eating at her small feet. Her muscles ached, she could hardly walk. Maria had no time to rest nor care for herself. Practice to practice, exercise, yoga, Pilates, jogging and dieting - the constant cycle was hard on her. She knew her body was weary, on the verge of giving up on her but she hung onto the hope that the performance would be perfect.

Hidden to Iris, she hadn't eaten well in days, surviving merely on water and determination. Yet this did not stop her from gagging in the bathroom previously that evening, though nothing came out.

To her, it was a good thing, it meant she was in perfect shape for the performance. She had to ensure she was not a laughing stock in front of the women, not one sight of fat had to peek out from her. The men, of course would be expecting to see not one imperfection on her beautiful body - she had to be above their expectations. She hated the patriarchy, the contestant judgements and stares and yet she had placed herself in a career where her self-worth and confidence would be challenged a lot - ballet.

Her career was her life; Maria hadn't spent her years training vigorously for nothing. She had to reach the top - even higher. If that meant dealing with the eyes of people, it would be something she would have to endure.

In that moment, she was sat staring at herself in the glass mirror. She could feel the stinging in her worn out shoulders, begging her to relax. As the stylist placed the Swarovski clips into her hair that was tugging on her scalp, worsening the pounding headache torturing her, she winced as she attempted to stretch her back, arching it. It hurt like hell; she immediately stopped, realising how much worse she made the pain.

The makeup hid the bags beginning to form under those 'twinkling eyes' of hers as Giovanni called them. Many said one of her best features were her grey eyes, her alluring and attractive feature. She wondered why many saw her as a 'goddess', a 'princess', the perfect prima donna. Maria was blind to her own divine beauty.

She could feel her heart thumping roughly against her chest - she hated the feeling. It was constant; whenever she had an event, it never disappeared, always there to remind her how important she was, how she couldn't dare mess up. She knew deep down that she had a fear of disappointing people, most likely created by her mother, the person who presented her to trauma in the first place. But she could never shake the feeling away, anxiety gnawed at her.

The more she thought about the hundreds of people waiting for her presence across the auditorium, the quicker the beat of her heart went. She soon realised how stressed she was feeling. The stylists and directors were darting across the place, dashing into different dressing rooms, checking every single dancer and musician - everything had to be perfect.

The ballerinas and ballerinos stretching in any doable space they could find, singers belting out their warm up songs, dancers recovering themselves from their usual panic attacks. Maria's dressing room was private and yet she felt as though she was in the middle of that claustrophobic chaos. Her assistants and stylists had surrounded her room with many fingers touching her face and making sure her face was flawless, hands adjusting all the brand endorsed accessories embedded in her long, gelled hair, the feeling of jewellery being clasped onto her and even the hands that were rubbing her sore feet in hope it would provide some soothing to her agony.

She squeezed her eyes closed, shakily exhaling, earning a scolding from one of the assistants for almost dressing the makeup. "Stay still or we'll have to do it all over again!" They would complain, reapplying more eyeshadow. She sat still like a doll, feeling too nervous to argue back with the stylist, her eyes began glancing around the room through the mirror at the sound of the door opening.

Iris came in with her bag struggling to hang on her shoulder, her layered hair packed into a messy bun at the back of her head and her face flushed, exhausted from all the preparations. Maria felt a surge of peace at the sight of her messy manager. "Not long left now," Iris announced, breathlessly as she placed her heavy bag down, making time feel much shorter for Maria. She swallowed roughly, feeling the sense of nausea once again. She nodded as the stylists began to move away, asking her if she liked the way she looked whilst they packed away their equipment.

She did. As she slightly turned her head to the side, her eyes glistened under the vanity mirror's bright lights, the glitter powder and pink accentuating her alluring features. She smoothly rubbed her plump, full lips together as she scanned her face quickly. Once accepting her appearance, she turned, standing from her chair and facing Iris who gave her a reassuring smile.

"You've got this," Iris reminded her. She knew how unnecessarily nervous Maria could get over performances. Maria nodded, asking where her shoes were. As Iris handed them over, she sat down once again, biting her bottom lip hard as she slipped them on in pain, tying them up tightly.

"Do you know if he's arrived yet?" Maria asked nonchalantly, her hand against her flat stomach that was tightened away by her corset that squeezed her waist together. The dress was ethereal, Maria looked like an angel with its dazzling jewels and sparkling materials on her tutu. It was a little tight for her preference but defined her body therefore it did the job. She was curious, hoping he had already been seated. Her guest for that night was someone she had longed to see for a very long time.

Iris responded, "I'm not too sure. There's a lot of people tonight, but I'm sure he'll show up." She pushed herself off the wall and opened the door for Maria who graciously smiled at her manager before leaving the waiting room, ready to give the performance of the night.

On the other side of the building, Leonardo Romano sat comfortably in the VIP Sky Box, awaiting for the performance to begin from below. He saw himself as an established guest and wouldn't dare sit amongst the rest of the audience. He hated large crowds, coming to the event itself was a struggle.

He sighed, his eyes flickering to his watch. It wasn't long until she would enter the stage. "Excited to see her?" The question came from his playful, lean witted capo Marco who was somehow unable to sit still, his hands rubbing his thighs, tapping them as he awaited for the event to continue.

Leonardo did not have the energy to even look at him. He merely grumbled his capo, "shut the fuck up." The man hadn't slept for a long time - he couldn't remember the last time he had a good nights rest. Surviving merely on coffee for energy wasn't going to last him long. Marco laughed, finding amusement in Leonardo's cold personality as usual. He cleared his throat, placing his mind back to the invitation he had received earlier that week.

It was her who had personally invited him to Giovanni's charity event. That would be the first time they had seen each other, been even been in the same building as each other in years. He wasn't a man who felt nervous often, but that night, he could feel a tinge of anxiety poking at him. He didn't know what to expect which made him feel uneasy. He questioned why she had wanted him there, what had made her suddenly want to see him after many years without each other, how she had changed.

With the lights dimming, the bushes and whispers, the chattering amongst the crowd simmered as the curtains were drawn back, and the performance of the evening began.

Leonardo sat straight, his eyes fixated onto the stage below as his hand rubbed his chin, anticipating her arrival. He felt flustered out of the blue, the building felt as though it was getting warmer as his expectance grew.

The dancers came onto the stage, beginning the opening ceremony. He wasn't a huge fan of ballet and had hardly interacted with it. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't know a single thing about it. That was his first performance to watch in years. He wondered whether she had improved since then. He had mainly heard about her through rumours; her excellent skills in classical and modern ballet, the passion in her singing, the constant awards she received. Leonardo would say he hadn't been keeping tabs on her and yet his knowledge of her career would say otherwise.

The moment she entered the stage, the audience clapped as though the performance had ended. He was surprised to see how loved she was by her spectators - the woman hadn't even begun and they were already praising her.

She was so far away but he could see the magnificence of her skills. As she danced across the stage, though he was far, he could see the reason she was so loved. Her powerful eyes connected with the crowd as she moved; she was confident, her moves full of self-assurance as she glided across the stage. Each movement matched the orchestra's beats, she was elegant, beautiful, irresistible. It would be hard for anyone to keep their eyes off her.

His heart thumped against his chest the more he focused on her dance. It was striking, amazing to see how she could embody the story through her movements. She was flawless, as she leapt through the air, she gained an outstanding applause from the audience for her skill, her grace, her mighty presence. She was the moment.

His face softened at the sight of her, he could remember how hard she had worked to reach where she was. Her efforts were shown through her dance, her passion, her dedication. It seemed to be worth it.

As it came to a close, she bowed respectfully, earning herself appraisal from the audience, with bouquets of flowers thrown at her, the confetti sprayed across the stage, congratulating her on another fantastic performance. The auditorium was filled with happiness, it was strange to see so many people excited at the sight of one person. She humbly accepted their gratitude, picking up a single daisy, her lips touching the petals as she smiled at the crowd, mouthing 'thank you'.

A touching smile was stretched across her face, she looked upwards, taking in each of person before her. Her eyes eventually reached the sky box. It was then that the two made eye contact through the tinted window of the box. Leonardo could feel her stare despite the distance, his breath hitched as he looked back down at her.

The curtains were closing and she could feel some sense of achievement. She had managed to get him to see her dancing again. As the long velvet fabric drew nearer, their contact was broken.

It would be later that evening where they would see each other again.

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~ Author's Note ~

What kind of characters do you think Maria and Leonardo will be individually?

Will their reunion be sweet or sour?

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