Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

The man was in a sleek black suit, the sapphire blue cufflinks catching the light in a way that was impossible to ignore. His vintage Patek Philippe added a touch of timeless elegance, perfectly complementing his choice of disguise for the evening, a Phantom of the Opera mask.

Roseanne locked eyes with him, and right away, she recognized the playful spark in his look that revealed his identity.

It was Corley!

Roseanne turned him down. "Sorry, I don't dance."

Yet, Corley was unyielding. "I've seen you practicing ballet behind the school auditorium."

Caught in her lie, Roseanne was speechless for a moment. She then remembered. He referred to her solo performance, which never happened during her senior year's prom night. After two months of relentless practice, an ankle injury had kept her off the stage. She had almost forgotten about it, but he knew.

Suddenly, the emcee said something, and the spotlight began scanning over the crowd.

The audience's screams grew louder with each passing second.

Caught off guard, the beam of light landed on them, enveloping them in a circle of illumination.

Corley's lips curled into a smirk. "It's tradition here that if a man and a woman are caught in the spotlight, they have to dance. Would you really let the crowd down?"

As he spoke, he bowed slightly and extended his hand for the invitation.

The crowd around them started chanting, "Say yes. Say yes!"

"Dance a tune. Dance a tune..."

With gritted teeth and no way out, Roseanne placed her hand in his. Corley immediately whisked her into the center of the dance floor.

As they moved together forward and

backward, spinning and embracing,

the tall, dashing Phantom of the Opera had caught a cunning yet endearing little fox in his arms. Their movements intertwined, their eyes locked, and Corley's smile was pure joy and satisfaction.

Roseanne could dance, and she was good at it. It was thanks to her mother, who believed her daughter should be well-rounded, encouraging her to explore dance, art, music, and manners from a young age. She had groomed Roseanne to be polite, talented, and knowledgeable, never expecting her to excel academically even more.

Roseanne had entered every science and computer competition available, progressing from local to national levels, eventually selected for intensive training camps and winning awards at international Olympiads.

That year, Roseanne had stunned

her school and the nation. Top universities offered her scholarships and spots without exams, promising study abroad opportunities, but Roseanne declined them all. She insisted on taking the SAT and aced it earning her place at Kingswell University.

"What are you thinking about?" Corley's voice brought her back to the present.

Roseanne answered lightly, "Just some memories."

"Memories from college?" His gaze darkened with the mention of a time containing people he'd rather forget.

"No," Roseanne shook her head.

Suddenly, Corley laughed, a deep, resonant sound emanating from his chest. With a swift movement, he spun Roseanne around in a quick twirl, eliciting another round of cheers from the crowd.

Although she had to follow his lead, Corley's steps were considerate, not too big or exaggerated, as if he was mindful of her comfort. His hand on her waist was gentlemanly, offering only enough support without overstepping.

"You look amazing tonight. That fox mask really suits you," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Roseanne raised an eyebrow. "What a coincidence. You're on vacation, too?"