Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“No, you’re fine.” I waved a hand as if that could make the kiss disappear. “We’re done.”
“For now.” Rudy shot me an ominous glare before turning his attention to Victoria. “Glad you made it back. Your readiness to go on is the only thing keeping this show together.”
In actuality, Rudy was the thing keeping the show together, but I kept the praise to myself as Victoria gave a nervous twitter.
“Miss Margie said the show is sold out.” Victoria’s eyes cast about like a sailboat searching for a landing spot.
“It is.” Rudy gave her the sort of encouraging smile he was so good at. “The TV segment seems to have done the trick for ticket sales along with a little luck.”
“Okay.” Victoria sucked in a breath, air whistling between her clenched teeth before she made a visible effort to settle herself. She rolled her shoulders up and back, neck elongating into a posture worthy of the Sugar Plum Fairy. “Okay. I can do this.”
“You can.” Rudy stood so he could give her a quick brotherly sort of one-armed hug. “You’ve got this. Merde. Let me know if either of you needs anything else.”
And with that, he was gone. Him. I needed him, not that I’d ever admit it. I took my own deep breath as Tavio, Irina, and Victoria’s mother all descended upon us to go over the changes. Double performance days like this were exhausting, made more so by the cast change and Victoria wanting some additional rehearsal to center herself back into the role. Tavio allowed her to go over a few of the lifts and pirouettes, but like me, he was trying to prevent Victoria from overthinking her readiness.
Despite many reassurances, though, she still seemed frazzled as the curtain lifted on the evening performance. My own anticipation rose as the opening overture sounded. Ordinarily, I’d turn inward as I awaited my second act entrance. I preferred to keep loose away from others, listening to my headphones, running through my variations in my head, letting go of all distractions, including those from other dancers and production people.
Tonight, however, Victoria required my attention. I stamped down any niggling irritation at the interruption of my routine, trying instead to channel Rudy’s encouraging ways. Our pas de deux would go far smoother if Victoria would settle her nerves. She did well to welcome Clara to the Land of the Sweets to start Act Two, but when she returned to wait backstage with me, she flitted about from foot to foot like a strong draft might knock her over.
“What if I’m too tired?” Victoria fretted in a whisper. She’d danced the school show yesterday, danced a different role in the matinee today, and rehearsed with me. Indeed, weary circles bracketed her brown eyes. Onstage, the Waltz of the Flowers started, the familiar polka of oom pah pah, oom pah pah, du nu-nu nuuuu, nu-nu filtering back to where we stood.
“Then you lean into the exhaustion.” I put my decades’ worth of experience into the advice. “You’ll dance your best when you’re tired. You’re really warmed up. Your muscles are loose. Your body knows what to do.”
“Yeah.” Victoria’s agreement didn’t sound at all certain. “The sold-out theater is freaking me out a little. I can feel the energy all packed in.”
When we performed on stage, the bright lights made it so we didn’t see the audience. Like Victoria, I might sense an energy, but beyond the lights lay a wall of darkness. New performers often found the darkness disconcerting while seasoned ones knew how to capitalize on it. For myself, there was nothing quite like the rush of projecting my every movement into the darkness beyond the stage. I wiggled my jaw from side to side, searching for the right words.
“Use the energy. Push forward into the darkness. Approach each step like it’s the only step the audience will see all night.” I summoned the same advice Tavio had given me years prior, likely the same advice he himself had received as a student. “Every single moment is the only moment that matters. Stay in that moment. And point your toes.”
“One moment at a time. I can do that.” Victoria set her shoulders as Waltz of the Flowers approached its conclusion. Wardrobe helpers rushed forward to take our warm-ups and give last-minute attention to our costumes, which included a whispered “Merde” from Kitty.
“I believe in you,” Kitty added to Victoria. And apparently, that was what she had needed to hear all along because Victoria rose up, going from resolute to ethereal, embodying the role in a way she hadn’t before. As we entered for our pas de deux, she was regal as any large ballet company principal dancer. I sensed a shift in the energy, the audience completely captivated.
We began in the adagio section where we danced together, and I built upon Victoria’s presence, my own movements rising to the occasion, no room at all for the doubts of the past few months. The indescribable rush of knowing I was dancing at my best carried me through my solo. Pounding adrenaline made it hard to catch my breath during Victoria’s solo, but I needed every molecule of oxygen for the coda where we danced together again. Faster now, each lift higher, each pirouette bigger and faster, momentum building for the finale.