From the outside I was balanced. On time, en pointe, always perfect.
But everyone has secrets, and mine kept me alone, guarded and hiding. Safe.
I rarely left my guard down, until I met Enzo.
Hot drummer, good guy with big dreams and patient to a fault, it was no wonder he made my perfect walls crumble
I had the world in the palm of my hands, until I met her. She made me lose my breath, my head, my rhythm.
It was always one step forward, two steps back with her. We were supposed to be friends with benefits, but I wanted more.
Problem was, I carried a secret of my own. Would it make her run?
When do secrets become too much to handle?
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