Tonight's the night, and I'm more than
shit-scared
!
I can hear everyone who's participating in the whole thing whooshing and whirling about all around me, doing inspections or last-minute repairs and solutions or hustling the younger classes to and from the stage or practicing one last time or going over the schedule—all to perfect everything so that the show runs smoothly. The nine girls I'm dancing with chat with one another whilst putting the finishing touches to their makeup, their liveliness and anticipation radiating from them in forceful waves, filling the entire room. But I'm just here, sitting in front of my own tiny vanity table, staring at the reflection of a girl who resembles me but am still actually unsure if it
is
me.
Adorning a coral pink leotard, tights and romantic tutu that all have elegant designs of off-white blossoms and thousands of enchanting glitters embedded into the material, off-white pointe shoes, a special lotion we wear to keep sweat at bay whilst also giving the skin a gleaming sleekness, a rosy blush that accentuates my cheeks, a sophisticated French twist kept in place by hairpins with pearl-like studs on them dotting my brown hair with white, dark eyeliner and silvery eyeshadow highlighting the blue in my eyes as they pop out more than usual, black mascara causing my eyelashes to look long and curled flawlessly, a cerise lip gloss that my lips seem to adore, and a metallic silver coronet with bright red flowers blooming all around it that completes the surreal appearance of a fairytale being.
Despite me looking spectacular as hell, I've been incapacitated by an earthquake of self-doubt. This is the recital where three trusted instructors from
the
most prestigious ballet academy in the country have come to assess us and possibly give us a chance to attend it with the aids of scholarships. Meaning that if I fuck up one thing—just
one
—tonight of all nights, it's all over. So yeah, I think I'm entitled to be more than crazy worried about this.
I try to take a deep breath in but only achieve inhaling a tenth of that as it enters my lungs as a shaky gasp so then my anxieties only worsen and I suddenly feel nauseated as my stomach does weird fluttering dances. Only when a gentle hand rests on my shoulder and I look up to see Jen's encouraging expression do I begin to calm down, not much, but just enough for me to be able to face what's coming.
"Hey, stop worrying," she says with a positive smile, also dressed in a similar attire but hers being a pale blue instead. "You'll be fine."
"Oh god, I hope so," I say, attempting at taking another lungful of air, this time succeeding.
"Sandra, you'll be great as usual. But if the rare exact opposite happens, you can count on me being there to steal the show from you."
Laughter filled with relief bursts out of me, freeing me from more of the panicky energy that's zigzagging around in my chest, and I say with a huge appreciative smile, "Thank you, Jen. For always being there for me."
Returning the grin, she says, "You're welcome, Sandra."
She gives me a tight hug from behind, and after a couple of seconds with us hugging like proper best friends she decides to ruin the moment by aiming to kiss me on the cheek with exaggerated noises.
"Are you fucking serious, Jen?!" I exclaim, giggling as I struggle to wriggle myself free.
"No. Can't you tell?" she jokes then laughs just before the ten-minute call sounds for us.
Standing, we troop out of the dressing room and head for the theater's backstage. As I'm talking to Jen and the other co-dancers, my eyes spot a group of people a little bit far away in the corner of my eye. When I turn to look at them I see that one of them is Mrs. Grayson, who I had expected to come. She smiles and waves at me to come just as my eyes shift slightly to the right to view the couple who are with her, and I instantly freeze.
One of them is a woman with dirty blonde hair styled into a sleek chignon wearing a gorgeous indigo wraparound dress that captures her body finely, and her face glows with kindness and warmth. The man beside her is tall and lean, an expensive suit giving him an aura of importance and authority, and has a neat beard and dark brown hair that has been slicked back. Even from this distance I can see his eyes, which are the same sapphire color as mine, and I start to run in their direction.
"
Mom
!
Dad
!" I cry out when I reach them, flinging my arms around them both.
"Hey, Sugarplum," Dad chuckles as they both pull me in for a great, big, heartwarming bear hug.
"I can't believe you're really here!"
"Well, a certain someone hinted to us that it would be best if we were here," Mom explains as she gives Mrs. Grayson a knowing look.
I face her and she gives a small smile as she says, "I figured that them being here would help you a lot."
I move to embrace her, colossal gratitude surging through my heart at the thoughtful gesture. I whisper quietly, "Thank you. You're just amazing."
"You're welcome, hon."
"Sandra, sweetie," Mom starts, taking my hand in hers. "You are
much
more important to us than our business. We don't want you to
ever
doubt that."
That only causes tears to spring into my eyes, and I have to fight a great war against them in making sure that I don't ruin the makeup.
"Thank you so much," I say in a choked voice, hugging them even tighter than before.
With these people here, who were so ready to drop everything they were doing to just show their support for me no matter what obstacle presented itself on the way, I'm once again reminded of how deeply I'm loved. Boundless joy vaults through the roof at that fact, kicking out all that nervous bullshit I was struggling with earlier on. My heart constricts painfully, and just when I think I'm about to lose to the force of my cries Mrs. Kingsley calls out to me, a lot less spitefully than normal since my parents are here but still managing to ruin yet another beautiful moment for me, and I have to let them go.
"Thank you for this," I softly say, holding only their hands now.
"Of course, dear," Mom says with an enriching grin. "Now go show them what you can do."
With another smile and quick hug, I run onto the stage, my whole body feeling as if it's in the clouds now. I grin like an idiot to myself as I take my place behind the red thick closed curtains amongst the others, immense confidence and happiness springing deep within my bones from just knowing that there are people who will always value me with every bit of their hearts regardless of what happens.
And now, all I have to do is show them how much I appreciate it.
Every single distraction gradually dies down in my mind as I shut my eyes: shuffling feet, squeaking pulleys, taps, knocks, the unseen audience's whispering. In the end, all that is audible is my controlled breathing and calm heartbeat, and I take up first position, ready to begin. Beyond my closed eyelids I sense the curtains being pulled to the sides, the bright light from various spotlights immediately seeking then focusing on us, calling all attention to our still bodies. Slowly, I open my eyes, almost finding my parents and Mrs. Grayson straightaway in the fourth row, flashing wordless cheers at me with their wide beaming looks, and I have to fight the urge to smile back. I drop my eyes to the ground, waiting for the first note of the song to commence, and when it does my entire form vibrates as I'm transported to a land of marvel and optimism.
Everyone excluding me moves in synchronized flowing movements, twirling around my unmoving body in sensuous patterns, executing every move perfectly, and I internally praise them for their incredible talents, passion and hard work. When the part comes where the music dies down for a single second some girls drop to their knees and others line up at either side of me and we all begin to dance together like single water droplets that merge into a river, our motions gentle, smooth and controlled.
Then everything changes when silence ensues and the adagio music swells, signaling the start of the real performance.
I step forward just as a yellow beam of light catches me and then begin to execute my moves, once again alone with just the sensational music, my limbs programmed to know what to do without me thinking about it, every movement natural and free. Pirouette, plié, assemblé, grande jeté; every single move drifts out of me effortlessly and I command the stage, everyone spinning around me like petals caught in a typhoon. This is my night. No one can steal it away from me, not even with the force of the earth on their side.
Because nothing can be more powerful than my sun-level intense bursting emotions at this very moment.
The music ends, but once again it's my body that makes me aware of that as I gently whirl on the pointe of one shoe and stop in the fifth position right before the noise of clapping hands momentarily deafens me as it booms around the spacious theater tenfold. I gaze at the audience and see everyone rise to their feet as they give a standing ovation. A wide grin spreads across my face at the proud faces of my parents and Mrs. Grayson as well as the commending looks of the judges. I managed to do everything I could without a single hitch, and despite the recital being over my heart is still hammering away from the adrenaline rush.
All the dancers stand side by side to form a long line and then we hold hands before doing a curtsy. The audience cheers even louder, and we have to do one more curtsy before the curtains start to fall closed, cutting us off from the still-applauding audience. As soon as that happens we all start to squeal, more than delighted with ourselves for our perfectly executed dance and positive that we have a pretty good chance that we'll get into the academy.
"If we don't get in, I'll die," Jen says as we all go off the stage to where her mother is standing, miraculously
not
looking disappointed in us for once.
"Because of your mom, right?" I whisper jokingly, causing her to dig her elbow into my ribs a bit too painfully yet I still giggle.
We stand before Mrs. Kingsley who doesn't give anything away as we silently await the news. A minute later one of the judges heads in our direction and then stops beside her, regarding us all with a cool expression. In that moment all those shitty nerves flood back in, shaking me to the core, and when I see the same thing happening to the others as if it's contagious I know I'm not the only one dying to know what will happen next.
"So this is the group..." he starts slowly, pausing a little to make sure we writhe in agony from the
fucking
intense suspense some more. "...that we shall have the pleasure of teaching in the near future."
In a flash, vast relief, shock and elation explode in the area like a nuclear bomb as the screams of ten girls silence the entire world. We bound up and down and hug each other, the wonderful knowledge of our hard work finally paying off more than satisfying in the greatest way possible.
Yes, yes, yes! Fuck
yes
! I've finally taken the huge leap towards my lifelong dream and now my future is in arm's reach.
"I would love to give you all the details," he continues, a great smile lighting up his experienced face. "But I'm sure that you all would love to tell your families the great news so we will contact you as soon as possible. You have all done well and deserve to celebrate your success. Enjoy the rest of the evening."
With that he leaves us with a friendly farewell wave and we all start to scream again, unable to contain our thrill yet again. But then Mrs. Kingsley shouts at us to be quiet, once again burning up every drop of happiness she finds in us.
"Okay, ladies. Calm yourselves," she says sternly and we hang our heads, our chance to express ourselves freely snuffed out. "I'm sure your families are the ones who really want to hear your screams, so you better look for them right now."
The way flabbergasted is the only thing we can all show when she says that. Did she really just trick us into thinking that we aren't in trouble?
