Status: Renovation in process
I Left My Heart in Moscow but My Love Waits in Pittsburgh
See It
"Can you believe it? My brothers have this pool going to see how long me and Sveta will last,” Jordan said in disgust as he unlaced his skates.
“I can believe it,” Tyler nodded in agreement.
“What?”
“Yeah, I mean, you know, we have a pool going too,” Tyler pulled on his T-shirt.
“We even got Kathy down in reception in on it, too,” Max added excitedly, “You know she never goes in on these things. I guess it's cause she has a season pass to the Pittsburgh Ballet.”
“Are you guys serious?” Jordan asked in disbelief. “You guys have a pool too?”
“Yeah. Almost everyone is in on it. Geno isn't but he's giving us pointers. I mean he's Russian, Sveta's Russian. They gotta think alike right?” Tyler scratched his chin in thought.
“I got you guys down for 10 weeks,” Kris quipped.
“10 weeks?”
“Flower said one month. I thought that was being generous,” Kris defended.
“Please say that someone said over four months.”
“Sidney said three-and-a-half, if that helps,” Tyler offered.
“Seriously!”
“Geno didn't pony up the 50 bucks but he bet on two months. So I put down two-and-one week,” Tyler said. “Starting from the birthday party.”
Shaking his head, Jordan grabbed his duffel bag and left the locker room, seething.
“Gronk! Gronk! Jordan!” Sidney yelled after him before finally resorting to jogging to catch up the tall, blonde center.
“What! What do you want, Sidney?” Jordan snapped, “Are you gonna beg me to break it off with Sveta in three-and-a-half months? Is that how you guys see me? An overgrown frat boy?”
“Look, you can't blame anyone but yourself for the bets. Up until three months ago, you practically were a frat boy. You did just about five things: you drank, you fucked, you ate, you slept, and you played hockey, usually in that order. So don't get mad, when we think you're just in it for the ride,” Sidney defended.
“I'm going to say to you exactly what I said to my brother. I'm going to prove you guys wrong.”
“I would love nothing more than for you to prove me wrong.”
“I'm different. I've changed. Me and Svetlana have something special and you'll see.”
“Reverse leap and pirouette! Spot, spot! Nice save. Good. Nice arms. You're a poodle. Walk and walk it out. Pirouette. Change your spot, change your spot, change your spot and stay on your leg. Okay, chaînés into the tilt jump, nice. You're fabulous. You're the diva. Steal the spotlight. Okay, here comes the aerial. Commit to it!” Katie yelled to me.
The aerial. It was cartwheel with no hands. Katie had just taught me that skill and she really wanted it in the number. Except I wasn't getting it. I was barely making the rotation.
“Commit! Strong runs!”
I ran into it, pliéd my leg and pushed into the air. I whipped my back leg around and I knew I didn't get high enough to complete the rotation again. I staggered out of the aerial and back into the rest of the choreography. I was preparing to do a leap, when Katie cut the music.
“Svetlana,” Her slight Southern twang surfacing, “You know what I'm gonna say. You have everything down. You even have the pirouettes in second down and the one-armed front handspring. But the aerial. I really don't want to take it out.”
“I don't want you to,” I blurted, “I'll get it. I'll have it down.”
“If you say so,” Katie looked at me doubtfully. I could almost see her choreographing new steps to replace the aerial. “Go home. Rest. Practice the aerial,” She sighed. She was equally exhausted and drained. “Visualize it. When you're at home, practice it. Try taking more runs into it and when you get more comfortable try cutting down on the runs.”
Nodding gratefully, I sat on the floor, packing my dance bag and toweling off the sweat on my brow. I was riding the bus back today. Jordan was in Sweden. Vero would be picking me up from the apartment after dinner.
I rested my head against the cool glass of the bus. I visualized the aerial. I closed my eyes and queued up the song on my iPod. I imagined myself going through the routine. I envisioned myself doing the cartwheel perfectly, with the shorter runs. I had looked up countless YouTube videos on aerials trying to perfect the acrobatic maneuver.
I got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to Jordan's building- my building. It still felt odd to think that I was living with Jordan, that I had a live-in boyfriend- or was I a live-in girlfriend? I punched in the passcode to unlock the entrance. No overbearing doorman here. Just a security guard at the elevator and one manning the security cameras.
Once I got to Jordan's- our apartment, I cleared out an area for me to practice aerials. I did a cartwheel. Then another. I did a cartwheel with one arm. Then I did a cartwheel, where I waited until the last minute to put my hands down. I ran down the hallway and hurdled into the aerial.
Anna hurdled into the aerial cartwheel, landing it perfectly and elegantly arching her back before continuing into the choreography.
“Lead him. He's completely captivated by you,” Cynthia Kent, the choreographer of The Glass Slipper, called out. She pursed her lips at the two dancers. She knew what she was getting into with putting Anna as the understudy, but she wasn't expecting this. She wasn't expecting Martha to tear her ACL. “Anna. You know what I'm going to say.”
“What's wrong this time?” Anna muttered under her breath. She had been putting in the extra hours, coming in early and leaving late. She had been working her ass off to get caught up on the variation and it was certainly taking it's toll, physically and mentally. Her body ached. Anna was taking two ice baths; one during lunch and one at the end of the day. But what was really taking it out of Anna was the fact that despite all this hard work, Cynthia still wasn't satisfied.
“I can teach you the steps. I can fix your placement. I can even get your turnout to a perfect 180. But I cannot be the one to reach inside of you and pull out that passion. You obviously are passionate about ballet. If you weren't, you wouldn't have made it this far. We need to see that passion that made Mikhail choose you. Not anyone else, but you. I need to see it, the audience needs to see it and Lord knows that Terence needs to see it.”
“I can believe it,” Tyler nodded in agreement.
“What?”
“Yeah, I mean, you know, we have a pool going too,” Tyler pulled on his T-shirt.
“We even got Kathy down in reception in on it, too,” Max added excitedly, “You know she never goes in on these things. I guess it's cause she has a season pass to the Pittsburgh Ballet.”
“Are you guys serious?” Jordan asked in disbelief. “You guys have a pool too?”
“Yeah. Almost everyone is in on it. Geno isn't but he's giving us pointers. I mean he's Russian, Sveta's Russian. They gotta think alike right?” Tyler scratched his chin in thought.
“I got you guys down for 10 weeks,” Kris quipped.
“10 weeks?”
“Flower said one month. I thought that was being generous,” Kris defended.
“Please say that someone said over four months.”
“Sidney said three-and-a-half, if that helps,” Tyler offered.
“Seriously!”
“Geno didn't pony up the 50 bucks but he bet on two months. So I put down two-and-one week,” Tyler said. “Starting from the birthday party.”
Shaking his head, Jordan grabbed his duffel bag and left the locker room, seething.
“Gronk! Gronk! Jordan!” Sidney yelled after him before finally resorting to jogging to catch up the tall, blonde center.
“What! What do you want, Sidney?” Jordan snapped, “Are you gonna beg me to break it off with Sveta in three-and-a-half months? Is that how you guys see me? An overgrown frat boy?”
“Look, you can't blame anyone but yourself for the bets. Up until three months ago, you practically were a frat boy. You did just about five things: you drank, you fucked, you ate, you slept, and you played hockey, usually in that order. So don't get mad, when we think you're just in it for the ride,” Sidney defended.
“I'm going to say to you exactly what I said to my brother. I'm going to prove you guys wrong.”
“I would love nothing more than for you to prove me wrong.”
“I'm different. I've changed. Me and Svetlana have something special and you'll see.”
“Reverse leap and pirouette! Spot, spot! Nice save. Good. Nice arms. You're a poodle. Walk and walk it out. Pirouette. Change your spot, change your spot, change your spot and stay on your leg. Okay, chaînés into the tilt jump, nice. You're fabulous. You're the diva. Steal the spotlight. Okay, here comes the aerial. Commit to it!” Katie yelled to me.
The aerial. It was cartwheel with no hands. Katie had just taught me that skill and she really wanted it in the number. Except I wasn't getting it. I was barely making the rotation.
“Commit! Strong runs!”
I ran into it, pliéd my leg and pushed into the air. I whipped my back leg around and I knew I didn't get high enough to complete the rotation again. I staggered out of the aerial and back into the rest of the choreography. I was preparing to do a leap, when Katie cut the music.
“Svetlana,” Her slight Southern twang surfacing, “You know what I'm gonna say. You have everything down. You even have the pirouettes in second down and the one-armed front handspring. But the aerial. I really don't want to take it out.”
“I don't want you to,” I blurted, “I'll get it. I'll have it down.”
“If you say so,” Katie looked at me doubtfully. I could almost see her choreographing new steps to replace the aerial. “Go home. Rest. Practice the aerial,” She sighed. She was equally exhausted and drained. “Visualize it. When you're at home, practice it. Try taking more runs into it and when you get more comfortable try cutting down on the runs.”
Nodding gratefully, I sat on the floor, packing my dance bag and toweling off the sweat on my brow. I was riding the bus back today. Jordan was in Sweden. Vero would be picking me up from the apartment after dinner.
I rested my head against the cool glass of the bus. I visualized the aerial. I closed my eyes and queued up the song on my iPod. I imagined myself going through the routine. I envisioned myself doing the cartwheel perfectly, with the shorter runs. I had looked up countless YouTube videos on aerials trying to perfect the acrobatic maneuver.
I got off the bus and walked the rest of the way to Jordan's building- my building. It still felt odd to think that I was living with Jordan, that I had a live-in boyfriend- or was I a live-in girlfriend? I punched in the passcode to unlock the entrance. No overbearing doorman here. Just a security guard at the elevator and one manning the security cameras.
Once I got to Jordan's- our apartment, I cleared out an area for me to practice aerials. I did a cartwheel. Then another. I did a cartwheel with one arm. Then I did a cartwheel, where I waited until the last minute to put my hands down. I ran down the hallway and hurdled into the aerial.
Anna hurdled into the aerial cartwheel, landing it perfectly and elegantly arching her back before continuing into the choreography.
“Lead him. He's completely captivated by you,” Cynthia Kent, the choreographer of The Glass Slipper, called out. She pursed her lips at the two dancers. She knew what she was getting into with putting Anna as the understudy, but she wasn't expecting this. She wasn't expecting Martha to tear her ACL. “Anna. You know what I'm going to say.”
“What's wrong this time?” Anna muttered under her breath. She had been putting in the extra hours, coming in early and leaving late. She had been working her ass off to get caught up on the variation and it was certainly taking it's toll, physically and mentally. Her body ached. Anna was taking two ice baths; one during lunch and one at the end of the day. But what was really taking it out of Anna was the fact that despite all this hard work, Cynthia still wasn't satisfied.
“I can teach you the steps. I can fix your placement. I can even get your turnout to a perfect 180. But I cannot be the one to reach inside of you and pull out that passion. You obviously are passionate about ballet. If you weren't, you wouldn't have made it this far. We need to see that passion that made Mikhail choose you. Not anyone else, but you. I need to see it, the audience needs to see it and Lord knows that Terence needs to see it.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it. Please comment!