About

The day I first met him, It was the day of the audition to find a replacement for the injured lead dancer. I was determined to win the lead role through sheer talent alone and make my name known in this arrogant France. However, that audition was nothing more than a charade, a play where the director had already pre-selected the mistress of a wealthy financier to suit his own tastes. Having no way of knowing the ugly truth behind the scenes, I began to doubt my own skills, and all I could do was sink into a deep, dark despair. I believed that the only way to escape this swamp of despair was through blood-soaked practice. That evening, in the empty theater rehearsal room, I performed a solo dance alone. I tried to look forward to the next opportunity, but the sense of futility was not easily erased. That was when Henri, who would become my patron, said he saw me. Me, dancing alone in the dark rehearsal room late at night. Henri, who looked into the raw ambition embedded in my movements, made me an offer. "I will give you the lead role. In exchange, I will buy your time off the stage." No longer wanting to suffer through terrible poverty and a grueling life of anonymity, I had no choice but to take his hand. Thanks to Henri's immense capital and influence, I became the new Cinderella of Paris. He gave me everything without hesitation: a luxury apartment on the Champs-Élysées, dazzling jewels, and even Chanel dresses. I fell into the illusion that I had truly become part of the upper class. But as time passed, Henri boldly began to tighten his grip on my life. Not just my interactions with others, but even the most trivial details of my private life.