Lacey

Ever since I was a young child, I have always wanted to be a professional dancer when I grew up. I have danced since I was old enough to walk. My mom was a Rockette and my dad was a dancer on Broadway for awhile so there was always this pressure to be the best. So that's why I'm here at one of the most elite dance schools in the country: Mrs. Tatiana's school of the Arts.

Sometimes I don't know how I got here. I think I have always felt imposter's syndrome. It's hard not to feel like a fraud when your parents are the best of the best. Don't get me wrong I love them but their expectations feel impossible to fulfill and everyone knows who I am. I walk into an audition or a new studio and I'm not Lacey. No. I'm Maria Lavine's daughter. It's hard to know who I really am and who actually cares about me for myself.

I sigh as I lace up my point shoes. I have always liked ballet but my soul doesn't yearn for it. I have always been attracted to the power and intensity of jazz whereas I am bored by the fluidity of ballet. I have always been allowed to take classes in both because my parents stress the importance of a well rounded dancer but I have always been encouraged to pursue ballet more than jazz.

Once I am done lacing my point shoes up I begin warming up. I raise up on my toes with my hand lightly on the bar. I have seen one too many girls mess up their bodies because they didn't warm up themselves properly. While this session is going to be light, I don't want to take any risks. The pressure is too high right now with auditions for the winter production coming up. There are only a few solo spots open and the even more coveted duets on the line.

The first round of auditions will occur in a week where the women and men will be separated and taught a piece of choreography that will performed as a group. Half of each group will be cut. The next round will be done in smaller groups. From their ten women and men will be chosen for the third and final round of auditions which has two components. The first component is a solo of your choice. The second is you get partnered with someone of the opposite gender and perform a preplanned duet. From their eights soloists and two different diets will be chosen.

I breathe deeply as I fold over and stretch my lower back. I am thankful for the rare quietness of the studio. It's why I prefer to practice at night. There is less of a chance that I run into people and so I can dance more freely than I normally would.

I roll back up slowly and finish my stretching with a few dynamic stretches. Once I'm done I begin with fouette turns. They are one of my favorite turns to do on point because of their difficulty. I continue practicing a few other turns and sequences in my shoes before I decide that I want to do some solo work.

I know that it is risky for me to do my solo in jazz but I'm not feeling very inspired by ballet right now and I think it can help me stand out. While this school is not just ballet or even just dance, ballet is one of the most commonly performed dances here. A lot of people think it's way for graceful and beautiful to watch but I have always found it a little boring.

After taking off my point shoes I rolls my tights up. I have always danced jazz in my bare feet because it gives me more grip and control in my movement especially my turns.

I put on my song, a dark and intense song about a girl taking flight and controlling her own destiny. I begin working through a few of the sections of the dance getting most of the chorus figured out.

As I'm doing a cool down stretch after dancing for an hour I hear movement to my left. I look over at the glass door and see the person I dislike at Mrs. Tatiana's the most: Wolf. Who the heck names their son Wolf anyway? I've known Wolf for years. We have danced at several studios together and he is best friends with my older brother who also dances.

"Hey little mouse. Are you trying to practice so we can do a duet together." Wolf strolls over so he can lean on the bar by me.

"Why would I want to dance with you of all people? Stop calling me little mouse." I snark at him.

"Everyone wants to dance with me little mouse. I call you that because you're so small." Wolf's eyes gleam with mischief as he smiles down at me. I'm not that small. I'm close to average height at 5'3". He's just freakishly tall.

"I'm not everyone Wolf." I respond as I pack my things in my bad and slide on my sweatpants over my leotard. I shove my feet into my comfy fluffy boots.

"Come on little mouse. You know you wanna." Wolf wiggles his eyebrows and sticks out a hand to help me up.

"Gosh you're such an ass. You really think everyone needs to sing your praises don't you?" I respond as I ignore his hand and stand on my own.

"I'm not that bad. Ask you brother." He winks and grabs my bag for me. He begins walking for the door forcing me to follow him since he has my bag.

"Where are you going?"

I'm walking you back. Your brother would kill me if I let you walk back on your own this late at night." Wolf glances back at me his eyes doing a quick scan. "Are you cold? It's kind of chilly. Take my sweater." He practically shoved the piece of clothing at me.

"I'm fine." I throw it back. I am cold but there is no way I'm wearing his sweater. He's a man whore. I don't want people to get the wrong idea.

"Just wear it little mouse. You're shivering." He stops walking handing it back and refuses to keep walking until I finally give in and slip it on.

"Fine but I'm not one of your freaking admirers Wolf." I warn.

He raises and eyebrow chuckling. He turns around and resumes walking. We finally get to my dorm and he insists on making sure I get inside my room safely.