A quick introduction. This is my first story on fictionpress. I have very minor storytelling experience, but wanted to venture into it. Hopefully you guys enjoy it.
If you have any thoughts, please review. I would love to hear what someone who isn't me thinks of the story (at least what's published so far). Comments, criticism, compliments, critiques, anything is welcome.
~Providential
Life is tough. It is cruel, and it is trying, but it is so very much worth living.
We live our lives under someone else's rule until we reach the age in which we begin to make our own decisions. Much like a baby bird, we are tossed out of our nest, and we either fall and break our necks, or we fly. The lucky few have life handed to them, not a single flaw present, and they are the ones who soar. The majority of us, however, falter. It may be money, or indecision, but it may just be that we dropped from the nest and fell the furthest before flying.
And those are the ones who try the hardest.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Two, two, three, four, five- Stop. Stop. You are off. You are all off. How do you expect to open Cinderella in one month if you are off? James, come here." Milena snapped her fingers at the male dancer, pointing him to center front. "Demonstrate the first twenty four counts. These children do not seem to comprehend it when I teach it. Five, six, five, six, seven, eight."
I tuned out the ballet mistress. I never really liked Milena, which was alright, since she never really liked me either. She was uptight and snooty, and favored the danseur, or male dancers, and the female corps.
Instead, I focused on the choreography. This was my first time in a long time as principal and as such, I needed to put all of my attention into the dance, and nothing else. That included Milena and her snide little comments. She was only here as a stand in for our actual choreographer anyway. It was quite hard to perceive her as legitimate instructor, what with her past experience. We all knew about her failure of a career. She was only considered retired because of her standing in ballet community. Well, that and because she had slept with most of her male choreographers. But that was on the hush.
"Good, James, back into your place. Eleanor, come."
I felt all eyes on me as my name was called and I closed my eyes briefly and cursed under my breath before stepping forward and stopping just in front of the woman. She meandered in front of me, looking around the room. "Fouetté pirouette. À la seconde." There were murmurs among the other dancers. From past experience, we all knew Milena would pick on several ballerinas. Either exploiting their weaknesses, or challenging their abilities. At some point last season, Milena had developed some type of disdain for me, and now I was being subjected to one of her games. And all of us knew a fouetté pirouette à la seconde was something the danseur generally did because of the difficulty. Rather than making a fool of myself and breaking down and running out of the room, sobbing, I got into position, and lifted my leg, à la hauteur, doing a single turn. With my training, I could manage Milena's little game. I had trained at the company school, it wasn't like this was brand new to me.
"Again," she said stoically, her lips pursed. "Triple."
I silently got back into position and did the three turns, my thigh aching from holding it in such a high position, but I refused to lower it until the pirouettes were complete. I looked at Milena defiantly when I returned to third position. Try me.
She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the opening of the door. "Bruno wants to speak with you, Milena." Milena glared briefly at the woman in the doorway before nodding, turning back to us and made eye contact with me. "We're done for the day. I expect improvement, Miss Abrams."
We clapped, though I really didn't want to, and gathered our bags up, many of the dancers taking the opportunity to peel off their shoes and rub their feet. I received several pats on the shoulder or congratulatory remarks as I approached my belongings, returning the gestures with no more than a smile. I was tired, and my right hip hurt. I didn't want to make nice nice with the other dancers.
"That was great, Eleanor! You totally showed Milena!"
I smiled at the perky dancer, Clarissa, whom I considered to be one of the nicer girls. The attitude of a ballerina was often demeaning and jealous, and Clarissa was anything but.
"I only complied with what she said. I don't know what she was trying to do." I lied a little. I knew Milena was trying to embarrass me, though I didn't know the exact reason why. Something told me it was jealousy. Of my age, of my status, of my recovery, or maybe all three.
"Isn't it obvious?" Andrea, another ballerina, stated as she sat down and untied her shoes. "She doesn't like you." There was that typical ballerina. Andrea was only jealous because she had been with the Ballet much longer than I, and she had yet to earn the lead. She was a solid soloist, actually, she was quite good, but she wasn't quite principal material.
"Oh shut up, Andrea. Milena's got her own issues." Clarissa defended me as I pulled a pair of sweatpants on over my leotard, sliding my aching feet into a pair of sneakers.
"Milena doesn't just pick one of us randomly. She always has her reasons." Andrea stood up and smirked, sauntering out of the room. Bitch.
"Don't listen to her Eleanor. She's just jealous. Milena too."
I gave Clarissa a smile to reassure her that I wasn't bothered and we both stood, exiting the room.
"So you want to go to the club tonight?" Clarissa asked, linking arms with me. "I heard some of the other girls talking, and they were all planning to head to Ice tonight. I think we should meet them, right?"
"I think I'm going to have an early night." I replied. "You should go though." Clarissa pouted and finally agreed, bidding me goodbye as she headed to her car and left. I stared after her, considering her behavior. Clarissa was young, and a little clumsy, but always had everyone's best interest at heart. And that's why she would never succeed as a ballerina. She was too naive. And her plan to go to a club tonight was just another reason why she and I were so different. In less than a month, the first main show of the season would open, and I couldn't spend my free time partying. That's what made me principal material. I didn't go off and spend my time making friends with the other dancers, and going to parties, or other things that compromised my standing.
I snapped out of my reverie as a fellow ballerina pushed past me, giving an insincere apology for running into me. Because of my hip, I walked to the subway station across the street and grabbed the first train back to my shitty studio in Hell's Kitchen. I went inside and looked around the tiny studio space, letting out a sigh as I sat down on the bed. This was my life. I was a twenty three year old, living in a cramped room, praying I would maintain a stable job as a ballerina.
My phone began buzzing in the depths of my bag and I dug for it, recognizing the number lighting up the screen.
"Yes, Annabel?" I asked, earning a groan from my sister.
"Just because you like your full name doesn't mean I do."
"Why'd you call?" I asked, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on my comforter.
"Well Joe's got a game tonight, and he asked me to come. And I thought it'd be a great reason to pawn the kids off on mom and dad, so I was calling to get some emotional support. If you're not performing tonight, of course."
I slipped out my leotard and tights, hanging them over the shower curtain rod. They still had a few wears before I needed to wash them. I returned to my bed where the phone lay.
"I've got the night off." I detailed. It was a Saturday, and because I was Cast B for Circumclocution (a current choreographer's project we fit between Cinderella and several other pieces), I only performed on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.
"But he's your husband, not mine. Plus, you know I don't like hockey." I said, hoping it would deter my sister from asking me to go to a game with her. The last time I went to one, I spent most of the night cringing, thinking about the injuries all of those players sustained. It was a wonder hockey players actually had a decent span of a career.
"And you know I don't like being called Annabel but you do it anyways. Come on, it'll be fun! We'll go out to dinner afterwards, maybe Cisco's, and you can have dessert!"
"I'm on a diet." I replied, eyeing my thighs in the mirror as I pulled on a pair of sweatpants. By non-dancer standards, I was incredibly thin. If I ate a big meal, sometimes I broke one hundred. But in the dancing world, I was average. My legs weren't the thinnest, my shoulder blades didn't protrude the most, but hey, at least I wasn't anorexic like half the twig bitches at the company.
"Oh boo hoo. Come on! Don't you miss your big sister? Plus, Mikey's been asking about you."
"That's not encouraging me to go, Annabel. Mikey's a creep." I slipped on a shirt and picked up the phone, walking the three steps back to the bathroom, where I began taking bobby pins out of my hair.
"Then do it for me. I mean, really. We haven't seen each other in weeks. Weeks! And we live, like, ten minutes apart. Plus, you could do with some interaction with people outside of your ballerina friends."
"They're not my friends." I mumbled, staring down at the phone.
"Even better a reason! It'll be fun. Please?"
I hesitated. I missed Annabel. We'd been inseparably close when we were kids, despite our six year age gap, and we really hadn't spent much time together since I'd gotten Cinderella.
"You're silent. Is that a yes?" Annabel asked, clearly hopeful.
I bit my lip, staring in the small mirror. "Alright, fine."
I heard her clapping briefly. "That's great! Why don't you come over to my place at six? I can drive us there."
"Alright. I'll see you then. Love you."
"Love you too, Ellie." Annabel said slyly.
"Goodbye, Annabel." I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone, staring in the mirror again. I looked beat. My makeup was smudged, my hair was wrecked from the bun I'd had it in all day, and my body ached. I turned on the shower quickly, shedding my clothes and hopping in, despite the cold water. I rinsed off and stood under the water for a few minutes as it heated up, my muscles relaxing and separating as the hot water rushed over them. It only took one conditioning to free my hair from all the hairspray, and with several hours before I needed to meet Annabel, I put a little extra time into the rest of my shower rituals. I got out of the shower and dried off before lathering my whole body in lotion, and washed my face with a cleanser to remove the last bits of makeup and sweat. I put my long hair up in the towel to get it to dry a little faster and walked over to the kitchen counter, where I paid some bills to waste time.
When I finished with the bills, I headed back to the bathroom and coated my face in a layer of tinted moisturizer, and put some mascara on. With the ache in my hip getting worse, I opened the medicine cabinet and took half a vicodin from the stash Amit had given me at the end of last season. We had been Lord and Lady Capulet soloists in Romeo and Juliet, and three quarters into the shows, he had a rotator cuff injury and scored big time with a doctor who was willing to hand out painkillers so long as Amit came in every so often. As to why he was willing to share his drugs with me, I didn't know, but hey, who was I to turn it away.
I washed the vicodin down with some water from the tap, and returned to my closet, eyeing my wardrobe carefully. I'd broken it up into several categories: lounge, everyday, and special occasion. Within those categories, I split it up into tops, bottoms, and dresses, then by color. The few visitors I've had say that's its borderline neurotic, but I prefer the term orderly. Everything had its place, just like a well choreographed number.
Despite being tired and wanting nothing more than to curl up in my underwear, I knew Annabel would expect me to get at least semi-dressed up. If she was bringing me to a game, that meant she was showing me off, and while it wasn't under the best circumstances, I couldn't help but ham it up in the spotlight. In hopes that it would please Her Majesty, I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a black bra, and a loose, white t-shirt. The look read dressed up, but compared to my normal attire, it was quite comfortable. I debated shoes, because I could go more casual and wear flats, or a little more intense and wear heels. Like the indecisive moron I was, I settled on a pair of booties with just enough of a heel to look a little more formal. I returned to the bathroom and blew my hair dry until it hung in soft, chestnut blonde waves to the middle of my back. As I looked at myself in the mirror, my face looked very plain. Maybe I was too used to stage makeup, but my face felt bare with these minimal products. To counteract such a feeling, I applied some Chanel Ambigue to my lips, a little happier with the mid-tone neutral that suited my hair and green eyes.
With the vicodin beginning to kick in, I hopped back into my bedroom and grabbed a black, leather jacket out of my closet and tossed it over the ensemble, knowing Annabel would have plenty a comment to make about my size. You're too thin. Have you eaten today? I could snap your arm with two fingers! It irked me to no end, but at least we didn't see each other too often so the comments were few and far between. I slipped a plain bag over my shoulder and stuffed my phone and wallet into it, adding my keys after I left my apartment and locked the door behind me. I took the subway to Annabel and Joe's apartment in Midtown, happily trotting down the street until I reached their building. Annabel buzzed me in and I headed up to her apartment where I knocked on the door, waiting a few moments as I heard commotion on the other side.
"Alright, you can have a candy! Just let me go!" Annabel opened the door, her daughter wrapped around her leg. She looked up at me, smiling. "Eleanor!" She said cheerfully. "Nikki, let go of me before you make me late! Just go find grandma, okay?" My niece, Nikki, grumbled and stood up, sulking toward the kitchen where I could hear my parents softly singing to Annabel's youngest, Joseph Jr.
"You sure we should go tonight? You seem busy." I asked in hopes that we could just stay in or something. Granted I really didn't want to see my parents right now. I hadn't spoken to either of them in a while, and I didn't want tonight to be the night we began talking again.
"No, let me just grab my purse. If I can find it." She scoured around the cramped family room and finally found her handbag, turning back to me. "Found it!" She said. "So what do you think?" She asked, turning like a model." I haven't seen any of Joe's teammates since I had JJ, and I want to look good." I looked her up and down, smiling a little. My sister was only twenty nine, but she dressed like a forty year old. She'd chosen a plain wrap dress, paired with a silver necklace and conservative heels.
"You look nice." I replied. "Very you."
She threw a hand up. "Oh stop. You look hot, though. Got that whole androgynous, biker thing going on. Jesus, I miss my pre-children body though, look at you! You're so thin!" And there she went. "Have you eaten since last week?"
"Yes, I ate earlier today. We should get going." I said, worried either mom or dad would come out to see the commotion.
Annabel seemed to catch my drift and nodded. "Alright. Come on." We headed down into the parking structure and got into Annabel's Volvo, Annabel gabbing the whole time about Nikki and Joseph Jr and how the two were so much like us.
"Except JJ's a boy and I'm not." I replied, staring out the windshield as we pulled into the sports arena parking lot, Annabel parking in one of the preferred spots.
"Well the age difference is similar. And Nikki's a complete spoiled brat, just like me. And JJ's just been a complete angel, just like you were."
I snorted as we got out of the car. "Did we grow up in the same house?" I asked, walking around the front of the car, Annabel and I joining the masses of people entering the arena. "I'm pretty sure no one considered me an angel."
"Close enough. Plus, you were a lot easier to have in a room than I was. God, I talked over everyone. You just sat there and soaked everything in." Annabel led me into the VIP seating area, giving hugs and kisses to many of the other people in the area.
I sat down in our seats and stared out at the ice rink as Annabel schmoozed with the other players' wives, finally coming to sit with me.
"You know, you should really try socializing. It might do you some good."
"I don't know if I could socialize with people like this, save for you. Hockey really isn't my thing."
"Well then spend less time staring at things. At least it's a little less obvious that you're so disinterested then."
"I already told you I don't like hockey."
"Hush! It's starting!" Annabel cheered like crazy as the announcer introduced the players from each team, cheering especially loud when Joe's name and number was called.
The game moved exceptionally slow as players were called out left and right, more people being thrown into the penalty box than goals being made, if that's what they were even called in hockey. Annabel continued to cheer and scream loudly, the game finally coming down to a close as Joe's team crushed the opponents, the two teams exchanging high fives in an attempt to show sportsmanship, something which they were severely lacking only ten minutes ago when they were beating each others' faces in.
"Come on, let's go back and see Joe!" Annabel quickly stood and wrapped her arm around mine, pulling me up with her.
"You should really relax." I replied, attempting to drag my heels. I had absolutely no interest in going back to the private area of the arena and being surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, larger than life, men. I'd rather stand out on the ice with bare feet. Actually, that probably would feel pretty good.
"I mean, don't they all take showers and what not back there? That's man region back there."
Annabel sighed and slowed her speed. "You know there's a waiting room for people like us, right? Plus, there are a lot less people back there." She said, trying to tempt me. And despite being in the spotlight most nights, I was incredibly tempted.
"Alright." I replied. "But if you want to leave that area early, you're going by yourself."
Annabel rolled her eyes and nodded, pulling me back to the private lounge, parking me on one of the sofas. She sat next to me and smoothed out the hem of her dress. "Thanks for coming with me." She said. "I've really missed hanging out with you. And I know that this isn't really much of us hanging out and is more of me yelling, and you begrudgingly listening. But I really do appreciate it. The Ballet has taken up so much of your life, and it's nice to see you wearing something other than a leotard."
"I wanted this life." I replied. "I'm the one who pushed for mom and dad to let me leave when I did. I'm happy."
Annabel put a hand on my knee and smiled sadly at me. "Are you?"
I stared at her blankly, knowing exactly what she was alluding to. I went to reply when I heard Joe's voice.
"There's my number one fan!" He said excitedly, Annabel turning to see him and jumping up.
"There's my number one player! You were so good, babe!" I turned my head away as the two gave a steamy enough kiss to melt the ice in the rink.
"Hey Eleanor." Joe said, giving me an awkward smile. "I'm glad you could keep Annie company tonight. I know how she gets when she has to sit through a game alone."
I stood and received a bear hug from the large man, my bones nearly crying at the prospect of being crushed. "It's nice to see you too, Joe." I replied. "Congratulations on the win."
"Thanks." He replied, scratching the back of his head. "So, uh, are you two up for dinner? The guys wanted to celebrate and we're planning on getting together for a bite."
"Oh." Annabel said, surprised. "Well, maybe you should just go-"
"Sounds great." I replied, knowing that Annabel was trying to get out of the arrangement because of me. It was no secret that I hated large group outings, but at this point, it'd save me from Annabel's life lesson she was sure to give me.
"Great!" Joe said, smiling widely. "Then, uh, let me go shower and we'll meet you at the bar on fifth."
Great. Bar food. Annabel gave Joe another kiss and he headed back to the locker rooms, where we could hear loud cheering.
"Are you sure it's alright?" Annabel asked. "I mean, crowds aren't really your thing. Neither are bars. We could just break off and go somewhere together."
"Of course not." I replied. "Am I such a child that I need you to take care of me, Annabel? Plus, this is your husband. I'm not going to be that sister in law who divides you two. We're going and that's final."
"Eleanor-" I turned around before Annabel could continue, silently marching out to the car, Annabel following behind me.
There was no way that I'd have her treating me like a child. Not anymore.