Drama on the Dancefloor

Broken does not always mean destroyed. Sometimes it is simply a way to scatter into light, like a mirror under a spotlight. Everything cracks inside, but the rhythm keeps it afloat - the dance floor turns into a confession, where the pulse is louder than words. The heart beats through the noise, as if knocking on glass: ‘Look, I'm still here.’ And in this heat, where emotions melt, pain becomes movement - beautiful, stubborn, almost healing.