AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Lang.”My breath hitches.“Don’t fuck with me.What’s in there that makes you think I have to buy the fucking book?”
“This ‘Tell-All’ has too much information about a famous bassist from a world-renowned band, a musical prodigy who became a heartthrob singer, and an up-and-coming ballerina who one day disappeared without a trace.”He pauses, and I hold tight onto the phone as he says, “It’s mostly aboutherchildhood, how her mother pushed her to be the best.There’s shit about her sister, and the two men in her life: Jet and Hanford.It’s uncanny, you know.They might as well call themGreyson and Sanford.”
A chill slithers down my spine, a cold dread wrapping around my heart.“How does it end?”
“I haven’t gotten to the end, but I’m sure you already know it, don’t you?”he whispers.
Of course, I do.It ends with our lives destroyed and ...“Who the fuck wrote this?”
“Anonymous,” he replies.
I go back and check the author, and he’s right.A.Anonymous.Who the fuck is that?
The world seems to shrink, my pulse pounding loud in my ears.“Lang, please tell me you’re getting that shit unpublished.”
Byron Langford is not just one of my five best friends, but also the manager of Too Far From Grace and the guy who takes care of our legal issues.He knows everyone who matters, and those people owe him favors.When he snaps his fingers, things just happen.
“Only the people involved can demand that.Are you ready to come out as Hanford?”
I don’t even know what it says about me, but no.No one knows that part of my past.It’s supposed to stay where it belongs, in the bowels of hell, along with those who hurt them.
“What name did they use for her?”
“Evelyn,” he mumbles.“If people start digging, things might unravel.We have to be ready for the worst.”
But what’s the worst?
Stepping into the bookstore, I’m instantly swallowed by the scent of paper, ink, and the intoxicating aroma of new books.The display hits me like a sucker punch, rendering me breathless.Broken pointe shoes, withered flowers atop a piano, and musical notes scattered around like lost stars, an image that tells a story I know all too well.
“When was this fucked up thing published?”My heart is pounding in a rhythm of dread.
Lang exhales heavily over the phone.“Three months ago.It hit the bestselling lists after the first week.It wasn’t on my radar until yesterday when I had to slum it on a commercial flight.I went to buy a bottle of water, and well, it was hard to miss.”
Though I want to tease him about his slumming it on a commercial flight, I don’t.My focus is on this biography.This isn’t how I wanted to spend my day, but I have to figure out what’s inside.I snatch a copy, stuffing it under my arm alongside the latest Doctor Strange comic.The book burns a hole through my bag, an unopened Pandora’s box of secrets best left in the past.
When I get home, I grab a beer and pry open the cover hesitantly:Foreword ...
ChapterFive
Foreword
The delicate worldof ballet always fascinated me.As a little girl, my heart would beat in synchrony with the rhythm of Tchaikovsky.I always dreamt of wearing a tutu and dancing flawlessly to the compass of the violins.Though my heart was in the right place, my body never agreed with the art of ballet.
I always took a back seat during practices ...well, it was actually the front row, spellbound by the graceful movements of the ballerinas on stage.But there was one dancer who captivated my heart above all others—Mom.
On stage, Mom was a vision.Her grace bewitched everyone who watched her.When she danced Swan Lake, she was not just a ballerina.She was the very essence of the ballet itself.It was fascinating to see her dance.Each movement flowed with the music, or maybe the music flowed through her veins.It was captivating to see how every step, every leap, and every pirouette was precise, elegant, and perfect.
She was a beautiful queen and the best dancer on the stage.
I was five when it all happened.First, she was expecting my little sister, then, she lost her balance and injured her knees.The injuries were fatal for her career.Mom died a little on the inside when it happened.But there was hope to revive her career through her daughters—well, not me, but my baby sister.
Mom wanted her to follow in her steps.She had grace, poise, and the coordination I lacked.My sister was raised to become everything I couldn’t be and everything Mom couldn’t achieve.
This book is a compilation of diary entries and memories of our past.As I pour my heart into these pages, my fingers dance across the keyboard, tracing the poignant saga of our lives.This unveils the tumultuous journey of my sister, a ballerina whose life intertwined with the beauty of dance and the haunting shadows that lurked in the wings of our past.
From the moment my sister took her first tentative steps into the world of ballet, it was evident that she possessed an extraordinary talent that I never did.With each pirouette and each leap, she transported audiences to a realm where dreams collided with reality.Her dance was an extension of her soul.
We grew up together, but we never shared secrets and dreams as sisters do.Our parents didn’t nurture a relationship between us.If anything, they created a hostile environment.Still, from the sidelines, I watched as she navigated the relentless pursuit of perfection, driven by Mom’s dreams and desires.Mom wanted my sister to achieve the career she couldn’t pursue.It wasn’t easy for my sister, and it was hard for me to watch.
