Page 112 of The Failed Audition

Luka interjects in a whisper, “We don’t know that, Kat.”

“You saw her. She was thinking about it, and her parents looked upset. It’s all because she’s here. Normal parents don’t want their kid in Vegas.” She sniffs. “She can’t leave, Nik.”

He speaks in hurried, low Russian, pain—I hear pain in his voice.

“No,” Katya suddenly cries. “Don’t say that.”

His tone carries so much weight. “It’s not our choice to make, Kat.”

“But you love her. And she loves you.”

I shut my eyes, tears sliding down my slick cheeks. My whole chest heavy. My whole heart full. One has been crushing the other.

He whispers Russian that I can’t understand. That I don’t even pretend to.

“You have to fight for her,” Katya cries. “Nik, you have to.”

“Katya, listen to me,” Nikolai says. “That’s not what this is about.”

She speaks Russian.

For the first time since I’ve known her—she speaks to him in clipped, pained Russian. A sob attached to her words.

He replies in the same language with finality. And Luka has to be the one to say, “It’ll be okay, Kat.”

Seconds later, strong arms slip underneath me, and Nik carries me to his bedroom. I keep my eyes closed, afraid to see Katya’s expression. I never thought I’d make a mark on someone’s life. I never thought people could love me that way. I’m average. Ordinary.

But I’m beginning to realize something…

We all traverse in and out of people’s worlds, leaving footprints. Some larger, some smaller, but there is always a mark. We can’t sweep it away.

In this moment, I think I’d like to sweep every mark. Every footprint. Every trace of me. No one will be hurt from my aspirations. From my pursuit of happiness.

It’s best that way.

My back sinks into the soft, metallic comforter, his fingers stroking my cheek, a gentle breeze. I’m scared to open my eyes. To meet his. I’m supposed to stay in Vegas for my career, not for love. And I wonder if I’ll forget this. If he’ll flood me with sentiments too strong to let go.

I sense his knees on either side of my build. I sense his hands on either side of my head. “Open your eyes, Thora,” he whispers.

Wake up.

I do. I am.

He hovers over me, his eyes directly in line with mine, matched, unwavering. Those gunmetal skies bearing down from up above. I can see, clearly, that he knows everything. His sister must have texted him the entire story that she overheard.

Tears slide from the creases of my eyes. “I’m a fool.”

“No.” He rubs my cheek with his thumb, drying the wet streaks. “You’re brave.”

I’m about to shake my head, but he clutches my face, keeping my gaze fixed on him. It hurts so badly. The truth. Every word my parents said. The ultimatum. My end. “It’s over.”

“It’s only over if you want it to be,” he refutes.

Instinct, I try to shake my head again. He clutches me tighter. “Nik…” My face twists as I cry. “You don’t understand. I’mnotgood enough.” I shield my face with my palms, and he brings both down, grasping my wrists.

His beautiful gray gaze is reddened but hard, determined, assured. Confident. Powerful. As though he has faith in me. As though his belief will carry me further than their doubt.

“You’re better than you were,” he says lowly. “I promise you that.”

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