It was supposed to be his first tour, but now, it could be his last. There was no warning or foreshadowing. He stared down at his costume, the white accents stained red with fresh blood. Shaking, he didn’t dare look back at the aftermath. As he took a step forward, his ballet shoes left tracks of crimson smears.
It was all over anyhow. He had to appear for his coda.
A swan song before the end.