Ren implemented every single piece of advice with mastery.
Internally his mind worked at maximum velocity, calculating and adjusting and constantly verifying that everything was perfect for Luna who deserved this victory after everything she’d been through.
But externally he projected effortless grace that suggested this was a natural ability rather than learned skill.
Luna was mesmerized. ’Not a hint of strain...’
Meanwhile, Larissa’s advice cycled through Ren’s consciousness like mantras he’d memorized through repetition.
’Don’t look at your feet, judges hate that. Maintain eye contact when appropriate but don’t stare creepily. Smile subtly to show confidence. Count mentally but don’t let it show you’re counting. Breathe with the rhythm so your partner can match.’
The audience murmur grew louder despite attempts at proper etiquette. This wasn’t just appreciation of a beautiful dress anymore. This was recognition they were witnessing something special that would be discussed for months in social circles.
’The dress is perfect. The moment is perfect. And Ren... Ren guides me through every step like he knows exactly what I need before I need it.’
’He’s... dancing. Really dancing. With me.’
’Why does my chest feel tight? This is just a competition. JUST A DANCE. Just...’
The dress moved with Luna like extension of her body rather than a separate garment. The crystals trapped light with each turn, creating flashes that seemed choreographed with the music even though they were simply responding to movement. When she spun the skirt flowed in perfect arc. When she stopped the fabric settled immediately without awkward bunching or strange folds.
Ren executed the sequence exactly as they’d practiced but didn’t look practiced, instead it looked more like natural flow. Luna spun away from him, fabric floating around her like water responding to unseen currents, then returned to his arms in a timing so perfect it seemed predestined rather than practiced again.
’He’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room. Like the judges don’t exist. Like the audience isn’t watching. Like nothing else matters.’
’Stop it. Stop making me feel things in the middle of a competition. I need to focus!’
The judges were writing on their scoring sheets with looking at their hands, which suggested they were actually engaged. Three of five were already nodding with expressions that looked like approval rather than the normal polite acknowledgment.
The music shifted to a more intense tempo that demanded more complex footwork. Each rhythm change required immediate adjustment, fluid transitions from slow tempo to fast and back again without losing synchronization.
’Tempo change NOW!’
But externally Ren still appeared completely relaxed with an easy confidence that made it look effortless. As if he weren’t thinking compulsively about every microsecond.
’He didn’t even look strained. Just... confident. This is what it feels like to trust someone completely? To know they won’t let you fall no matter what. When did I start trusting him this much? When did he become...’
’Don’t think about it! Not now! Focus on the dance... Just the dance. Nothing else matters until this is over!’
The audience had gone completely silent now, not even whispered commentary disturbing the performance. Just absolute attention fixed on the couple at the hall’s center who moved like a single entity rather than two separate people trying to coordinate.
Because this wasn’t just technically perfect dance that checked every box on judges’ scoring rubrics.
This was a dance that told a story without words.


’This is it. The finale. If I mess this up after everything... Luna trusted me. Larissa and Liora trusted me. I CANNOT mess this up!’
’He won’t drop me. I know he won’t drop me. Not Ren...’
’Look at his eyes... I trust him. Completely. With this dance... With everything.’
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