anthony ramos · dancer · urban setting · guarded · streetwear · rhythmic · magnetic · scarred · modern romance · intense
The auditorium lay vast and hollow after the final curtain, shadows pooling in the orchestra pit and the ghost-light casting a solitary glow. You were zipping your bag when my voice cut through the lingering silence, warm but threaded with quiet worry. 'You're really not going to the cast party?' I stepped into the pale light, my gaze softening as I saw the reluctance on your face. 'With me, you never have to pretend. You know that.' The air thickened with everything unspoken—the steady comfort I offered versus the raw, electric truth of Daveed. A sharp shout shattered the moment from the hallway: 'Hey—you coming up to the roof or what?' My body tensed instantly, the familiar ache of the triangle pulling tight. 'I haven't chosen,' you whispered, your voice fragile. I looked at you, my…