Jacqueline walked out of class with one goal on her mind. Today, the auditions for Swan Lake were being held. She was going to be a Little Swan. She had to be. She couldn’t do another role in the background. She needed something so she could show everyone what she could do.
She gritted her teeth. Nothing was getting in her way. She stepped into the studio, ready for anything. The air conditioner blew a blast of cold air into her face. Madame Kabinov stood by the piano, whispering to the pianist as if they were constructing an evil plot. Jacqueline braced herself.
As Madame Kabinov demonstrated the part of the ballet that was going to be used for the audition, Jacqueline’s mind raced.
I can do this.
No, I can’t.
What was I thinking?
No, no, I can do this.
This was her moment. Though she danced with others, she danced alone. The steps were not her concern. The music was not her concern. The story was.
It was her reason. She was a storyteller. Her movements were the words and her face spelled them out. In a way, she was a writer. She created a new thing with every step.
When she finished, she felt a spark inside of her light up. It was a rare occurrence of complete bliss. She had always called the feeling her “light”.
Thank you, God.
She smiled. She had probably done something incorrect judging by the expression on Madame Kabinov’s face. But she didn’t really care. She had simply told her story. She could correct her technique tomorrow.
Jacqueline didn’t know what to feel as she walked out of the audition. Confidence, anxiety, excitement… Maybe a mixture of all three.
She turned around to face Allie Radomski.
“I just have to tell you. There is something so unique about the way you dance. What is it about you? What makes you different?”
Jacqueline grinned. For once, she knew exactly how to respond.