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I Left My Heart in Moscow but My Love Waits in Pittsburgh

Perfect Fit

Class the next morning was awkward. I could feel everyone staring at me. I could hear everyone whispering about me. I could hear girls snickering or giggling when I walked down the halls. I wasn't sure whether it stemmed from the Anna situation or everyone finding out about Jordan and me. It seemed that some people were walking on eggshells around me like they thought I was in this fragile emotional state. While other people would openly stare at me as if trying to figure out what Jordan saw in me. I found myself wondering that myself.

What did Jordan see in me? I suppose that the reason why someone loves another will always be a mystery. Love is such an ineffable emotion.

“Svetlana?” Leah tapped my shoulder as I untied my pointe shoes. “Mr. Orr wants to see you before you head out for lunch.”

“Okay, thanks Leah.” What did he want now? I thought to myself. I put on my flip-flops and gathered my things. The walk to Mr. Orr's office is the closest I'll ever get to walking the green mile. “He asked for me?” I asked Mrs. Beasly, Mr. Orr's receptionist and secretary.

“Go on ahead, he's waiting for you,” She replied with her usual kindness.

I opened the door and I found Mr. Orr and someone else. A tall woman with long blonde hair and tanned skin. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, please sit down, Svetlana,” Mr. Orr gestured to the chair.

I hesitantly took a seat.

“Svetlana, how far along are you with your pas de deux with Charlie and Alejandro?”

“We've learned all the choreography. We just need to clean it up and focus on our expression.”

“Good, good. I want you to do a solo for the Showcase.”

“I thought Suzanne was doing the solo for the Showcase.”

“Oh she will, we're just going to add yours in the program, somewhere. This is Katie Gregory, she's choreographing your solo and the Curtain Call number.”

“Are you giving me a solo because of the magazine cover?” I asked skeptical. Naturally, I wanted to have a solo but I wanted one based on my dance ability not because the lighting was particularly flattering on my face or because Jordan was my boyfriend.

“You are an amazing dancer, Svetlana, with great technique and artistry. You have an amazing legacy, too. The magazine, while beautiful and gave the Company great publicity, is not the only reason you have a solo. After lunch, you will go work on your pas de deux with Charlie but for only an hour. Then, you will go to the Aston room and work on your solo with Katie. Tomorrow you will start working on the Curtain Call number so you will be working on your solo after that.”

I merely nodded, “Is that all, Mr. Orr?”

“Yes, yes. Don't forget to check the board or to call-in for the schedule.”

Image


“Ta-Ta- Da-da- And Arabesque, ronde, sauté, pirouette, tour jeté. Perfect. Good. Emote. Nice, nice,” Charlie clapped the beat as we ran through the dance, “Run, run, run. Lift and kick. Good. More resistance to the movement. Okay, and more emotion, really feel it. Good job,” He concluded as we finished. “I like what I'm seeing. The expression is just spot-on from both of you.”

I looked at the clock, “Um, Mr. Orr told you. I have to go.”

“Oh yes of course. Alejandro, Svetlana we're done for the day,” Charlie said.

I quickly took off my pointe shoes and packed my dance bag. I nearly ran out of the door, hoping to not be late.

“Have fun with it, cover girl!” Charlie called after me.

The Aston room was luckily also on the top floor. It was a large white room with a row of barres on one side and mirrors on the other. The ceiling was high and vaulted with a sun roof to let natural light in. “I'm sorry. I'm late, practice with Charlie ran a little longer than usual.”

“Don't worry about it,” Katie looked young. Younger than me. “Do you have jazz shoes?”

I shook my head. I had never even trained in jazz while at the Academy.

“I have some extra. I'm not sure how well they will fit but you should pick some up. You're going to need them for this solo and the Curtain Call number.”

Her jazz shoes fit well, a little snug but well. “I will.”

“Okay, so this solo is going to be more jazz based. It's all about you and your fierceness. You're a cover girl. This is the song,” She clicked the play button her remote and a thumping bass filled the room.

“Stroll down the runway 
Another payday 
Cover of magazines 
And when they see me 
They want to be me 
I am your fantasy 

Cover girl! 

Put the bass in your walk 
Head to toe let your whole body talk 
(Cover Girl! Put your bass in your wak 
Head-to-toe let your whole body talk) 

To Graumman's Chinese, Red carpet TV
Valet my limousine 
Box office sweetie, An Oscar nominee 
Now watch me snatch trophies 

Cover girl! 

Put the bass in your walk 
Head to toe let your whole body talk 
(Cover Girl! Put your bass in your wak 
Head-to-toe let your whole body talk) 

Walk...now walk...walk....now walk(and what?) 
Walk...now walk...walk....now walk 

Stroll down the runway 
Another payday 
Cover of magazines 
And when they see me 
They want to be me 
I am the fantasy 

Cover girl! 

Put the bass in your walk 
Head to toe let your whole body talk 
(Cover Girl! Put your bass in your wak 
Head-to-toe let your whole body talk) 

Pump and bump it 
Pump it and bump bump it 
Pump pump it and bump bump it 
Pump pump it and bump bump it 

Walk...now walk...walk....now walk(and what?) 
Walk...now walk...walk....now walk(and what?)”


“You have to be a real diva. We're going to put some acro in it, too. Alright-ey then, I want you stand around here, like this, arms like that, okay,” Katie positioning my body exactly how she envisioned it. “Now this is how it goes,” She stood in front of me, and started doing the opening movements, slowly. I mirrored them, letting her fix anything.

It was uncomfortable being in a new style of movement and dance. Jazz is about being grounded into the earth while ballet is all about being floaty and above it. In ballet, we wear pointe shoes so that we look we aren't touching the ground. The job of a dancer is to make a choreographer's vision come to life and I had to do that. It didn't matter that the jazz shoes were too tight or the movements were awkward. I had to make Katie's vision a reality. The routine was more designed for a competition than to tell a story. It showed off technique, strength, power and flexibility. It was a true tour de force, with it's endless pirouettes and acrobatics.

“Okay from the top. I want lots of attitude,” Katie started clapping the beats, “1-and-2-and-3-and-4-and-five-and-six-and-seven-and-eight. 1-2-3-4-5-6- Prepare! - Jeté. Good, good, liking the swag, and- front handspring – pirouette – spot! Good high relevé and into the split, nice. Kick. We'll stop there.”

I nodded, panting and sweaty. I slipped on my flip-flops and packed up my dance bag, “Bye Katie, thanks.”

“I should be thankin' you, girl. Get some jazz shoes!” She called out.

I smiled and started dialing Jordan's number, “Hi, Jordan?”

“What's up?”

“I'm going to be a little late. I have to stop by the Shoe Room.”

“I'm already out here,” Jordan said flatly.

“You can meet me there, if you want. It's near the Costume Room. You go through the Stage Door and instead go right. On your left, there should be a door with the words 'Shoe Room.'”

“Okay, see you there.”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” He echoed before hanging up.

I walked to the Shoe Room thinking about the new solo trying to ingrain them into my mind. I pushed open the wooden door to the Room. The Room is a unique place. It's a large, long room with walls lined with rows and rows of dance shoes, almost all of them pointe shoes. “Giuseppe?” I called, looking for the gray-haired, wizened Giuseppe. “Are you here?”

“Yes, yes, of course I am here,” Giuseppe walked out from the far depths of the Room. “Ah, Svetlana. Freed's, extra-long vamps, 8XX, medium flexible leather shank, v-cut vamps, elastic drawstring, extra paste. I believe you ask for 3/8" cut from the heel and 1/4" from the sides. Maker stamp is the bell, yes?” Giuseppe closed his eyes as he recited my specifications. It looked like he was imagining the shoe, the way the satin was pleated, the exactly measurements of the shoe.

“That's me.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I need jazz shoes for a new solo and the Curtain Call.”

“Ah, yes. Congratulations on the magazine cover. It looked lovely. You look very much like your mother.”

“Thank you.”

“Did I ever tell you, I worked with her? She danced in the Theatre, once. Very long ago.”

“She danced for the Company?” I asked in shock. My mother had never mentioned this.

“Only once. During the beginning of her career, just after she graduated. She was no older than you.”

“She never told me that,” I said softly.

“So is there a brand you prefer for jazz shoes?”

I blushed and looked down, embarrassed by my inexperience, “I've never owned jazz shoes before.”

“Ahh, I see. Well then, is there a color you prefer?”

“Nude, please.”

“I will bring an assortment of shoes out for you to try on. Please sit,” He gestured to a bench, off to the side.

I nodded and took a seat.

“Sveta?” Jordan opened the door and poked his head through.

“Jordan, over here.”

“Oh,” he said, awed by the sheer amount of shoes. “That's a lot of shoes.”

“Enough for the entire company. Sit.” I patted the lacquered smooth, wooden surface of the bench.

Jordan sat down next to me, stretching out his long legs. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I leaned my head against his broad shoulder, “I got a solo. They added it to the program.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think it's because of the magazine cover. I'm sure there are people out there, who are buying tickets just because they think I look pretty.”

“Well, they can't have you,” Jordan kissed my forehead.

“How was practice?” I smiled, nuzzling his neck.

“Good. I'm going to miss you, when I go to Sweden.”

“I'm going to miss you, too,” My fingers entwining with his.

“Svetlana?” Giuseppe called out as he approached us, holding a large stack of long, narrow boxes. “Jordan Staal?” He asked, shocked.

“Hi, there,” Jordan extended his head but withdrew at the sight of the boxes.

“I'm a big fan of the Pens. I used to play ice hockey when I was young back home in Italy. There was a large lake at the highest point in my town. In the winter it would freeze over and my friends and I would play,” He said wistfully, setting down the boxes. “It's an honor to meet you. Now, Svetlana, we have several brands here. Let's start with the Blochs.”

“Sure,” I said, slipping my feet out of my flip-flops.

Giuseppe opened a tan colored box, sliding out a pair of nude, heeled jazz shoes, handing them to me, “These are leather. I have some canvas ones but I find that the leather ones mold better and are more flexible. All of these are split sole.”

I nodded, unwillingly untangling my fingers to put the shoes on. I stood up, rolling to my toes and rolling back down to my heels. “These feel okay.”

“Go ahead, dance in them. Do some of the choreography,” Giuseppe egged.

I prepared and did a pirouette and a side leap. “Hmm, the seam here,” I pointed to a seam on the instep, “Rubs against my arch.”

“Hmm, do you like the leather? Do you want to try a canvas?”

“Sure, let's try a canvas,” I sat on the bench and took off the jazz shoes, handing them to Giuseppe, who in turned handed me a canvas pair of jazz shoes. “These look... different.”

Giuseppe laughed, “Yes, well. The canvas is not the most attractive option nor the most preferred but there are a few dancers who like them.”

I slipped them on. I did the same pirouette and side leap. I shook my head, “No. They don't feel right.”

“I thought so. Try these. Carpezio.”

I must have tried a dozen different shoes, none of them quite right.

“Hmm,” Giuseppe pondered as I returned the last pair of shoes to him, “I think I know what will work.” He wandered off to the far depths of the Room.

“Sorry,” I said to Jordan, who must have been bored out of his mind, “This must be very, very boring for you.”

“No, no it's cool. It's actually kind of interesting-”

“You don't have to lie,” I smiled and sat down next to Jordan. “Shoe fittings can be very tedious.”

“It's fine, as long as I'm with you.”

“We're in that phase,” I giggle.

“What phase?”

“That super sweet, sickly cute phase that makes other couples sick with jealousy.”

“Yup, I'd say we're in that phase,” He laughed, smiling, kissing my cheek., “My goal is to stay in that phase for as long as possible.”

“When can I watch you practice?”

“When are you free?”

“I think it'll be hard since I'm going to be doing the solo either before Company class or after all afternoon rehearsals. On Saturday, I have half-day.”

“Saturday it is then. Saturday is an optional skate but it should still be interesting.”

“Make it a date.”

“Oh, I will.” Jordan pulled me into a deep, intoxicating kiss. He knew exactly how to make my knees buckle, my head to spin, my heart to flutter with just a kiss.

Giuseppe cleared his throat and we pulled away from each other. “I think you will like these very much. These are a very unique pair, as always with Freed's. If you like them, I will have to put in a special order for you.”

I took the shoes and slipped them on and knew. They fit perfectly. I stood up and did pirouettes and side leaps. I executed more of the choreography. “These are great.”

“Yes, the higher heel provides more support for your high arches. Also, these are in Freed's unique sizing so they offer the perfect fit.”

“I like how they show off my arches. The fit is perfect, like you said.”

“Should I arrange for an order of these?”

“Yes please.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, that is all,” I shook my head.

“Well then, you keep those and I will send out for a shipment of Freed's. I will also lend you a pair of Grecians by Bloch. They are a different cut and they show off the arch quite beautifully. I would like for you to try them out,” Giuseppe handed me two boxes. “Good luck Mr. Staal on the season. I can feel it in my bones that this year is the year.”

“Thank you. I hope you're right,” Jordan stood up and shook Giuseppe's hand. Then, he picked up my dance bag. His arm wrapped around my waist, “We have to get going.”

“Yes of course. Svetlana, the shoes should come in about two to three weeks.”

“Thank you, Giuseppe,” I shook his hand before we left.

Shoes, especially dance shoes, need to be a perfect fit. Sometimes you have to try on several before you find the perfect one, sometimes you find it on the first try. They need to suit you in every way, support your needs, enhance your features and help you work through your flaws.
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This is probably a really boring chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways! Please take the time to comment on whether you like or not!