62. Chapter 57 #3
The words hit her like a sudden gust of wind, strong enough to throw her off balance, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she had heard correctly or if her mind was playing tricks on her.
"What?"
Her voice sounded foreign, as if it didn’t belong to her, as if it was coming from somewhere far away, not truly part of this reality.
Mrs. Wagner gave her a small, reassuring smile, nodding as if to confirm that, yes, she had heard correctly. "They saw you. And they were impressed."
Impressed.
Not just good.
Impressed.
The word clung to her, refusing to let go, seeping into her skin like ink, and as she tried to grasp it, she felt her fingertips tremble slightly, unconsciously twisting the fabric of her costume between them.
"That’s… impossible."
She could hear the tremor in her own voice, feel the way her pulse was racing as she stared at the paper still in Mrs. Wagner’s hands, unable to look away.
London? The Royal Academy?
A place that had always seemed like a distant possibility, never truly within reach—because it had never been part of her plan, because she had never even considered it an option for herself.
"This is a huge opportunity, Evin," Mrs. Wagner said gently, as if sensing how much the words were working through her. "As you can imagine, spots are extremely limited. If you want this, you’ll need to decide soon."
Evin blinked, her fingers tightening around the edge of her costume, as if holding onto it could keep her grounded, while her mind was already racing in another direction.
A part of her wanted to jump up, to laugh, to call Milka and tell her that she had done it, t hat someone out there had truly seen her.
But another part of her felt like someone had just kicked open a door—only for her to find nothing but a void on the other side.
"I…" Her throat was dry, the words sticking before she could force them out. "Can I think about it? And talk to my parents?"
Mrs. Wagner nodded with understanding. "Of course. But not for too long."
Evin let out a small, breathy laugh, but it didn’t feel real. "Of course. An offer with an expiration date?"
"In a way." Mrs. Wagner gave a knowing smile. "Spots won’t stay open for long."
Evin nodded automatically, the words looping inside her head, again and again, like an echo she couldn’t escape.
Her throat suddenly felt tight, as if the air inside had thickened, too heavy to simply swallow.
London.
The entire summer.
Two months in a world that wasn’t hers, two months away from everything she knew. Away from Bas.
This isn’t how I imagined it…
She had thought she knew what the next few months would look like—had imagined the summer as hers, had planned to spend time with Milka, had assumed that maybe… she and Bas… But now, the decision was entirely hers.
And the question wasn’t whether she was capable of making it.
It was whether she was ready to live with the consequences.
London. The Royal Academy. The chance to do something great. Something that was hers alone.
___________
Evin stepped out of the dressing room, still caught in a haze of adrenaline and exhaustion. Her skin was hot, her heart pounding at a pace that refused to slow down .
She had barely merged into the crowd when she heard Milka call her name. Before she could react, Milka was already there, throwing her arms around Evin’s neck and squeezing so tightly that Evin almost laughed.
"Oh my god, Evin! That was…" Milka pulled back, her eyes shining with excitement. "I have no words! Really, none! I knew you were good, but that? You hypnotized the whole damn audience! I swear, I’ve never seen anything like it!"
Evin blinked, absorbing her best friend’s euphoria, letting it rush through her. "Really?" she asked with a crooked smile, even though she had felt it herself. Still, hearing the confirmation spoken out loud made it more real.
"Yesss!" Milka’s eyes widened, as if Evin had just said the dumbest thing in the world.
"Babe, people were holding their breath while you danced!
I had chills from head to toe! And Rafael—I mean, he was good too, but you?
" She grabbed Evin’s hands as if she needed to physically hold onto her.
"You gave everything! You were like… a freaking prima ballerina! "
Evin swallowed. The scouts. London. She wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Not yet.
"Thank you." Her voice was quieter, almost overwhelmed. "Really. I…" She shook her head slightly. "I still can’t believe it."
"You were incredible," said a second voice—and this time, it wasn’t Milka.
Evin turned around.
Bas stood a few steps away, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his dress pants. He looked calm, relaxed—but his gaze wasn’t. His gaze was sharp, alert, as if he had absorbed every second of her performance with his eyes alone.
His eyes made her stumble internally.
He didn’t say much. No grand compliments, no over-the-top praise like Milka. But it was the way he looked at her. The gleam in his blue eyes spoke volumes.
"The way you dance… You were breathtaking, babe." A small, barely visible smirk tugged at his lips. "I even understood what it was about."
Evin felt an unexpected warmth spread through her chest.
She let out a soft laugh, but the feeling didn’t last long—because as her gaze wandered over Bas’ face, something made her pause.
His eye. The dark shadow stretching across his cheekbone. And now, she noticed the wound on his brow. A bruise.
Her stomach twisted.
"You were gone for only 24 hours." She made sure her pointed look toward his eye and her sharp tone made it clear exactly what she thought of that.
Bas barely shrugged. "It’s nothing."
"Nothing?" Evin stepped closer, narrowing her eyes. "Your eye is bruised, Bas. That’s not ‘nothing.’"
"Just a misunderstanding. Let’s not talk about it now."
A misunderstanding. As if someone could accidentally walk into a fist.
Milka eyed him skeptically, crossing her arms. "I wasn’t gonna say anything, but… are you sure you didn’t, you know, trip and fall into someone’s punch?"
Bas let out an amused snort, as if it didn’t matter at all. "More or less."
Evin felt a knot tighten in her chest. She knew him. And she knew he didn’t just get into fights for no reason.
Milka inhaled quietly, as if she wanted to say something, but she hesitated. Maybe because she knew Bas couldn’t be forced to talk.
And Evin, however, wasn’t someone who could let things go so easily.
But now wasn’t the moment. Not here, not after the performance.
Still, she had plenty of time to confront him about it later—and he could be damn sure that she would.
She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to let it go.
For now.
___________
Seb astian
T he weight in his chest had settled long before he admitted what he was about to do. The tension gnawed at him, pulling through every fiber, as if something inside him was tearing apart. The thought of letting Evin go clenched around his heart like an iron fist.
Evin laughed beside Milka, her voice still vibrating with adrenaline.
Her joy was so unfiltered, so effortless, that it almost hurt.
A painfully beautiful contrast to the storm raging inside him.
She had no idea. She was happy. And he stood there, trapped in a role that was becoming heavier by the second.
Bas ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. The phone lay cold and heavy in his hand. His gaze remained fixed on the screen, the bright light reflecting in his eyes as his thumb hovered over the display. It wasn’t real yet. There was still a way back.
He knew what he had to do. It was the only way.
It had to be done. This was his only chance to banish Sergej from her life once and for all.
He couldn’t make him disappear himself. He couldn’t just throw punches every time he saw him and hope it would be enough.
But his father… His father could. His father had always held the power.
Like an invisible, ever-present force, he pulled the strings, controlled what needed to be controlled, and discarded whatever didn’t fit into his picture.
And Bas? Bas was his raw diamond, waiting to be cut until he fit perfectly into the polished world his father had designed for him.
It was a goddamn trade. A horrible deal.
How many times had he learned this lesson?
You have to prove yourself. You have to belong.
You have to earn your place. And what had he done?
He had bent himself to the bone, crossed every line, molded himself into the person they wanted him to be.
He had obediently fallen in line with their elite world, accepted their rules, met their expectations.
It wasn’t as if he hated the life he lived. Quite the opposite. The exclusivity, the status, the position in society that came with it—it was a part of him, and it would be a lie to say it didn’t appeal to him. But why was it never enough? Why was it never satisfying?
What was all of this for?
For a father who still didn’t accept him for who he was.
He had sold his soul, sacrificed his dreams, become everything that was expected of him—but it was never enough.
It would never be enough. Because every time he thought he had finally secured his place in his father’s world, something was taken from him again.
And now, he was taking the only thing that kept him whole.
The only thing that pulled him out of this empty, cold world.
Evin.
Bas clenched his teeth so hard that he felt the dull strain in his jaw. His breathing was shallow. The text on the screen blurred slightly, but he already knew the words by heart.
Bas
Okay. You win.
He could barely believe he was actually typing it.
Bas
I’ll break up with her.
It felt like stabbing himself in the chest.
Bas
He has to go.
His fingers hovered over the send button. Just one tap. One goddamn tap. And it would all be over.