Chapter 6

**Chloe's POV**

Julian reached out and grabbed my wrist. "I can make it up to you."

I stopped.

"Julian, don't talk about making amends like it's charity." I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip. "What you owe me isn't just an audition slot."

After that conversation, I officially submitted my lease termination that very day.

My landlord asked if I was just fighting with my boyfriend, offering some unsolicited advice. "It's normal for young couples to fight, you know. Breaking a lease and finding a new place is a huge pain."

I smiled gently. "We're not fighting. I just won't be living here anymore."

I didn't offer any further explanation.

This apartment was too close to Julian. It was so close that I used to check his studio windows to see if the lights were on, so close that one call from him could get me running to his side in minutes.

I used to think it was convenient. Only now did I realize I had placed myself in a position where he could summon me like a pet.

Terminating the lease wasn't just about moving.

It was the first time I actively removed myself from his reach.

Seeing my resolve, the landlord stopped trying to persuade me and just asked to settle the utilities at the end of the month.

I agreed.

Walking out of the leasing office, my chest didn't feel empty. Instead, I felt like I could finally take a deep, clean breath.

Julian stood in the distance, his face turning pale.

In the past, he always complained that I wanted too much.

I wanted him to reply to my messages, wanted him to have dinner with me, wanted him to remember those cheap anniversaries.

But now that I wanted absolutely nothing from him, he realized how little he actually had to offer.

He said he'd help me get another audition.

That wasn't making amends. That was him trying to tape up a vase he had shattered, then demanding my gratitude.

I didn't look at him again.

I returned to the classroom. The kids crowded around me, asking if I was feeling sick.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian standing outside the door.

I bent down to tie a little girl's ballet shoe.

She looked down at me and whispered a sweet "Thank you, Miss Chloe," before standing up and dusting off her knees.

Julian still stood there. He didn't leave, and he didn't come in.

I didn't spare him a second look.

He used to enjoy this kind of care from me.

I used to bring him water, pack him meals, organize his scattered papers, and heat up a mug of milk when he rehearsed late into the night.

Back then, he never said thank you. He never thought he needed to.

He just took it all for granted, like a permanent fixture in his life.

Now, he was seeing that I could bend down and smile for someone else.

Only, he was no longer the one receiving my care.

The sixty-sixth payback came anyway.

It wasn't Julian's doing.

Hudson and a few of his friends snuck into the studio's storage room during the lunch break. They stole the lead dancer's recital costume and stuffed an old, ill-fitting outfit in its place.

They wanted to watch me ruin the show, completely unaware that I had a backup.

When Martha pulled up the security footage, Hudson was still smirking.

"It was just a prank, okay? It's not like we actually ruined the show."

Standing to the side, hearing those words, I found it incredibly pathetic.

For the past three years, every single injury they inflicted on me was swept under the rug as a "joke."

Me waiting for him until midnight was a joke; me missing my audition deadline was a joke; me being humiliated in public was also a joke.

The moment I got upset, I was labeled as "someone who can't take a joke."

But this time, I wasn't going to take it lying down.