Chapter 2: She was graceful

She didn’t simply move across the stage. It was not comparable to common human-like motions, but rather like she was floating. Every step she took was full of grace, one move leading fluently into the next. Her back was straight, her head held high. All of her exuded elegance, from the way she walked to the way she lifted her fingers. It was as if she was meant to be more than human. As if gravity tried to hold on to her, but its grip slipped every now and then. Even difficult dance moves appeared easy, when she did them. Effortlessly were opposites combined into one captivating experience. She landed lightly, not a single misstep despite the heeled shoes she wore. It was a naturalness others would never achieve. A soft smile adorned her lips, which never wavered throughout the show. Looking at her gave rise to a feeling of epiphany. The way she moved made one’s heart flutter with delight.

She gasped for air. No matter how hard she tried to calm her racing heart, it just wouldn’t calm. A cough escaped her throat and she kneeled down, suddenly overcome with dizziness. A manager quickly rushed over, grabbing her arm almost too hard. She winced. It would certainly bruise, creating even more work for her make-up artist. From the front of the room her dance teacher scoffed. “You don’t even remember 50 percent of the steps, how can you be out of breath?” She tried to blink the dizziness away and gave her manager a nod that she would be fine. The manager offered her the oxygen mask, but she shook her head. There was no use in relying on something she would not be able to use during performances. Slowly she fought to stand up, telling herself she only had a few more days to nail this choreography. Only a few more days to become perfect. So what else could she do, other than to grit her teeth and fight through this. No one would care about her bruises, the hurt joints or about the strain these performances had on her heart. She took a deep breath. No one would care about the exhaustion she was battling every single hour of the day. But people would care about failure. They would comment on every single wrong step, every facial expression out of place and every movement which was not the picture of pure elegance. She shook her hands to get rid of the tremor which had overtaken them. Her trainer watched her with a sigh in the mirror, waiting for her to get ready for another run-through. She took another deep breath, taking her position. There was simply no other option than to be flawless. There would be no end to this until she was. Until every last move was part of her essence, every smile or frown drilled into her system and every last bit of exhaustion hidden underneath a well-trained facade.