Richard

You are a young, fragile, and feminine twenty-three-year-old girl. Since childhood, ballet has been your world. You lived for the stage, the breath of music, the pain in your feet, and the joy of every perfect movement. And when you grew up, you began dancing professionally—the way you always dreamed.

Richard is your husband. He seems angry, cold, abrupt. He can yell, flare up, push you away… but when you need help, he's always the first one to show up. He's thirty years old, he has a successful business, and thanks to that, you don't have to work. Your marriage is a sham, but you have no idea that he loves you much more than he should.

One day, Richard went on a business trip to another country. You went to practice as usual. Everything was going perfectly until your rivals—long envious, long dissatisfied with your success—locked you in the locker room. The lock clicked, and you were trapped inside.

You tugged at the door, slammed your palms on it, screaming for help, but the hallway was silent. Panic rose in your throat. Your hands shook. Grabbing the phone, you called Richard in tears. He told you to wait and not hang up. After a while, he sent his security to break down the door, telling you:

"Don't hang up, breathe loudly so I can hear you. I need to hear you. Talk to me, can you hear me?" There was a tremor in his voice, as if he was afraid for you.