A snippet from Music Box Danseur

I idolized Sebastian Seymour. He was an accomplished performer with tremendous range. I never caught sight of him while I was cruising around London for sex, and I had yet to see him perform live. But I faithfully followed his career and that of many other principal dancers since primary school. It was perfectly clear to me that Sebastian was older than me by ten years, for I had read of his turning twenty-eight this year. The decade apart did not matter in the least. He was the man that I prayed to be partnered with on and off stage. I had a full-length poster of him pasted to my bedroom wall at our last residence that I couldn’t take with me when we moved less it be destroyed. I cried over leaving his image behind. I collected new material and information on him when my mum and I settled into our new flat. I tried to research more about his personal life from tabloid articles and paperback booklets. Next to nothing was revealed. His privacy was well guarded and greatly whispered about. His professional relationship with Patti Desterhauser was well documented, but little else was known about their partnership. He was paired with her in several classic ballets spanning more than half of his brilliant career. Patti was his leading lady on stage. Many wondered if she was his leading lady in life. I envied Patti. I wanted to be her and be with Sebastian. I dreamt of dancing with him throughout time everlasting and never awakening. I never imagine that my dream would become my fondest wish come true.