Page 9 of A Temporary Forever

The standing ovations continue for what feels like another half of the night, but eventually we end up backstage.

“I booked the entire bar across the street. Let’s celebrate!” Leon, the lead choreographer, hugs me with a suffocating force.

The changing rooms are a riot, all of us riding on the wave of our success. And as much as I love the spotlight, I also know how important it is to take care of myself after the performance and come down gently.

Because the highs of being on stage need to be managed carefully if I want to avoid addiction, or mental health issues.

But tonight, I might say yes and party to prolong the buzz. To enjoy it. To bask in it.

For once, I can be reckless and revel in my success with abandon.

“The first round of drinks is on me,” Leon shouts from the hallway, and I laugh.

“You must come,” Jose warns.

“Well then, get out of here so I can get changed.” I shoo him away, laughing.

It takes me another hour to shower and change, since backup dancers and other colleagues keep coming up to me, and we hug, laugh, and congratulate each other.

I finally slide into an off-the-shoulder royal blue jumpsuit that falls down my legs in a heap of fabric, resembling a skirt. Most of my female colleagues are in comfy leggings, but that has never been my style.

Combing my still-damp hair, I fasten it into a tight bun and apply some lip gloss.

I’m exhausted, but I can’t skip the party. Bonding with the rest of the crew is important.

And right now, I feel like celebrating. With tonight’s success, my contract here will surely get renewed.

Perhaps over the next few months, I can reopen my dancing studio. Not that I’d be able to teach much with my current rehearsal schedule.

Still, I miss that connection with women who’d come full of doubt, with low self-esteem, who I helped to blossom through dancing. They’d find their confidence, and love their bodies and themselves, and on some level, that’s more rewarding than the spotlight.

The hallway is almost deserted by the time I finally leave my dressing room. Instead of heading for the exit, I can’t help but return to the stage.

The house is empty, the echoes of the night only a ghost now. I love the silence that swallows the theater after everyone leaves.

When I was a little girl, I used to sit in the pulsating darkness while my mom got changed after performing.

I dash across the wooden floor and jump down to sit in a velvet seat in thefirst row.

Closing my eyes, I let the events of the night settle inside me.

“I miss you, Mom. I wish you could have seen me tonight,” I whisper, tears prickling my eyes.

I give myself a moment to reminisce, and then I leave the sacred place behind me so I can join the festivities across the street.

“Celeste, you’re still here.”

I freeze, groaning internally, but turn with a smile. “Mr. Reinhard, I was just leaving.”And so close to the back door.

The theater director looks at me down his long, crooked nose. He regards me with suspicion, like I’m trespassing here.

The man is a bitter creature as it is, but he’s taken a particular dislike to me ever since I joined the group.

I’m not sure why, and I never tried to investigate. Nobody likes him much, so I’ve never felt like I’m being singled out by his cold behavior.

He approaches me, his hands in his pockets, his lanky legs striding forward with a slight limp.

My heart hammers in my chest as I try to figure out why he’s paying me any attention. He’s been downright annoyed by my existence, so I stayed away, but it’s not like I can turn and run now.

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