-Aria-
I could hardly contain the flutter in my chest as we approached the theater’s entrance. Paris, with its ageless charm and vibrant pulse, wrapped around me like a beautiful gown. It was as if the city had been holding its breath all these years, waiting for my return. My last memories here were of wide-eyed wonder; a little girl swept away by the glimmer of the Eiffel Tower and the symphony of lights dancing upon the Seine. Back then, I was only beginning to catch glimpses of my passion—the pirouettes and pliés that beckoned me to follow an unseen thread.
But that girl, the one who spun and leaped her way into dreams, had faced a cruel twist of fate. An accident had shown me the fragility of my aspirations, and as I stood before the grand theater, I was reminded that life, like the
