Status: Renovation in process

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

Mama

Solos are the worst. There's no hiding in a solo. Only you and the spotlight. Every imperfection, technical flaw, mistake is amplified and showcased for the audience to see. But perhaps what is the worse about a solo is that there is no one to turn to, no Romeo, no other swans, only you.

Only me to fill up the stage with my presence and attitude. Only me and 2 minutes to leave an impression on the audience and Mr. Orr. Only me.

Only me in this studio, wearing my new jazz shoes and borrowed stereo, logging what feels like the hundredth late night.

Wiping away the sweat that had collected on my brow, I shook out the aches and pains in my legs and arms. I rolled my shoulders, wincing as they crackled and clicked. All this work, all this pain, for what? For that connection with the audience. For those chills, those goosebumps. For art.

I queued the song on the stereo again and ran into my spot and my starting pose. I went through my mental cues and settled into the character. The Cover Girl. The girl I envied and always wanted to be. This girl is fierce and confident. This girl didn't have expectations; she didn't need them. This girl doesn't have a family dynasty to live up to. It's not that this girl doesn't have past; it's that the past didn't matter. This girl didn't have a past and she didn't have a future. All she had was the now.

For some reason, I went full-out this time. I wasn't just marking through it. I was giving everything I had into it. I was still taking a step out of my aerial but at least I wasn't falling on my face or falling out of it anymore.

I finished my last pirouette and struck my ending pose as the song ended on cue.

“Brava, brava!” echoed through the room which was followed by applause.

“What the- Is anyone just allowed in here now?” I blurted out in exasperation.

“Oh sweet Svetlana,” Out snaked the lithe blonde from the shadows, her green eyes shining and honeyed voice laced with bitterness. “It hurts to know that you think of me as just anyone,” She arranged her face in a pained expression, not unlike that of Odette's when Siegfried betrays her. Whoever said she was incapable of expression?

“What are you doing here?” I respond curtly, not wanting to deal with her cattiness.

“What? We can't talk anymore?” She strutted around the empty studio. The dimming light danced across her face, playing tricks on my eyes. One minute she had a playful gleam and the next it seemed as if she was visibly shaking.

“After making the past month here unbearable, I would yes. Now if you'd please excuse me, I have to go,” I grabbed my duffel bag and swung it onto my shoulder.

“Where to darling? To your cold, empty, lonely bed at the Doubletree? Must be such a change from Jordan's bed. So how does it work exactly? Does he keep you on rotation? I never suspected him to be the sharing type. Is it Jordan Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Evgeni Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday?”

“Just shut up,” I called out as I walked past her and out the door.

When I got home from rehearsal- Ugh, you know things are low, when you're calling a hotel room home, I did something I hadn't done in a long time. I called my mother.

Zdravstvujtye,” My mother's voice sounded oddly hollow and phantom-like. Perhaps it was the fact that my mother was using the formal vy form or maybe it's that it's been close to six months- goodness, half a year- since I've heard her voice or more importantly because my mother and I were never really that close. I wouldn't say my mother resented having me because it effectively ended her career. The regret. I can see it in her eyes, when she sees me dance. The longing. I can hear it in her voice, when she talks about ballet. The remorse.

I shook my head as if trying to shake the stress and problems off me like a wet dog. It was probably just the phone and the connection that made her sound so, so cold.

But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, I just wanted my mama. One year we had a Brazilian ballerina, Bruna, with us at the Academy and she asked me if I missed my mama and I responded with a polite no. Bruna hugged me as her big brown eyes filled with tears and an emotion that I didn't recognize at the time. She whispered as she clung to my shoulders, “We'll always miss our mamas.”

It wasn't until right before I came to Pittsburgh that I realized what Bruna's eyes held. Pity.

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“Mom? Are you there? It's Jordan.”

“Of course, I'm here honey. I'm always here.”

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“Ma?” Alicia's Boston accent coming to the forefront as she practically yelled into the phone. Hey, she was from Boston. What do you expect?

“Leesh! How's it been going? All going good?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Alicia's voice suddenly softened, “I'm, just, I'm nervous Ma. This is my one shot, my one chance. I don't want to be stuck in the corps anymore. I want this so bad that it scares me. All my hard work and years of training won't matter, if I don't perform well. I'm tired of being the rock. The one that Terrence can turn to, when someone gets hurt. I want to be noticed.”

“Baby, my sweet baby,” Alicia's mother cooed. “Trust in yourself. It's obvious that Mr. Orr trusts you enough to give you this role and the choreographers trust you enough to perform this role. It's just you. You need to trust yourself enough to blow this role out of the water.”

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Mamochka, it's me. Svetlana.”

“Oh Svetik. Is something wrong?”

I felt a lump in my throat and my mouth go dry at the sound of my mother saying my childhood nickname. Svetik. “No. I mean, yes. There's so much. So much I need to tell you.”

Zvezda moya,” My little star, my mother cooed, “You're so far away now. Tell me everything.”

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Mamulya?” Oksana sobbed into the phone, “Mamulya everything is so awful right now.”

Ksenia,” Oksana's mother cooed, “Ksenia, the letters mean nothing. You need to trust Evgeni, when he says that.”

“I'm so scared, Mamulya. I'm so scared of losing him,” The peroxide blonde wiped the tears off her face to find her fingers smeared with black mascara and liner. She stared into her compact mirror to see her cheeks smeared in what resembled blackish gray soot. “He's all I have.”

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“Do you remember when you danced A Midsummer's Night Dream, when you were nine? I remember, when I did. The company always used the students from the Academy to play the faeries so I was around your age and I think that was the last time dancing onstage was so pure- well, dancing at all really. The year after, the competition started getting fiercer, bodies started changing, and the simple delight in just whipping around as fast as you can and wearing your hair in a pretty way was over. Little girls are romantic. We learn quickly though, how to suffer, how to endure suffering. By the time a little girl has become a young woman she has learned how dangerous a thing it is to Dream,” The normally composed woman on the otherside of the line paused and sighed wearily, “So I don't regret having you because by that point in my career, I was dancing simply because I was good at it. I was too good to not be dancing. Why do you do dance?”

“I don't know exactly why... Only that I must.”

“That's the difference between you and me, zvezda. You love it. You have a passion for it that I never had. On your worse day, you would still be better than anyone at their best, because of that. Of course, it does help to have inherited your Babuschka's feet and legs and my port de bras.”

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“I'm fine, mother,” Anna insisted as she carefully swiveled up her lipstick with one hand. “Really you don't have to worry. I have tickets reserved for you like normal for tomorrow.”

“I'm so proud of you, sweetie. Getting a lead role in the Showcase is the first step,” Adelaide Gregory was the perfect picture of old money. Her now silver laced, platinum blonde hair was swept up into a french twist and her thin mouth, a slice of red across her face. She was entitled, she was rich. She was cold, she was composed. She was also a stage mom. “I'm glad you're finally getting a featured role. I've been talking to Kevin at ABT and he's willing to come down to see you perform. Maybe offer you a job there. Only God knows why Terrence hasn't been using you more. Shame Misha left.”

Anna could barely conceal her glee as she glided on her red lipstick to make the perfect pout. “That would be perfect. Do you know which day?”

“Not sure yet but I am almost positive on Opening Night,” Adelaide had the clipped nasal tones of a true Yankee, a true blue blood, “Now tell me about the others.”

“The female soloist is some girl form the Academy but to be honest, her eating disorder is a little to out of control so she's no problem in the long run. Leesha also got a featured role but she's not demanding enough to get out of the corps. She'll always be the 'rock' and I think she knows that. Whenever someone gets sick or injured, she'll fill in but will she ever be a starter? Who knows.”

“Tell me about the Russian.”

“Ugh what is there not to tell. She's in the contemporary piece with Alejandro. She's been working overtime and Terrence gave her a solo for the Showcase because of all the publicity from the cover. Can you believe that? Just gave her a solo!”

“She's your main competition. You know what you have to do.”

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“Mom, I don't know what to do. I miss her so much,” Jordan's voice cracked. “I just don't know what to do.”

“I think it's obvious what you should do. You've known the girl for six months and ended it with her a week ago. You love her, Jordan. Go after her. Get her back.”

“But Mom,” He drew out mom like a child begging to sleepover at a friend's house, “She hid her past from me. It's Evgeni for crying out loud. It isn't just some random schmo in Russia. It's Evgeni.”

“You weren't exactly honest with her either, son. You never told her about Beth.”

Beth.

“Whose side are you on?” Jordan accused. His stomach twisted at the sound of her name. Beth.

“Your side, honey but you know how I feel. You were wrong in leaving her like that: what she was in the past should matter less than what she would become. You-”

“Is that Jordan?” Jordan heard his Dad say in the background.

“Yes, now hush,” Jordan's mother tried to wrestle the phone from her husband's hands to no avail.

“Son? Son you still there?”

“Yeah, I'm still here, Dad,” Jordan was close to both his parents but he would always be a mama's boy.

“Look here son. You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect - you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there. Now get off the phone and go get her, son.”

“Wow, Dad, that was really well-said,” Jordan managed to say after a thoughtful silence.

“Oh well, I was able to bag your mother so I ain't to shabby myself,” Henry chuckled to himself before Linda finally managed to wrestle the phone back from her husband.

“Hello Jordan, honey? Listen to your Dad on this one, even if he did steal that whole spiel from Bob Marley.”

“Doesn't make it less true!” Henry yelled into the receiver.

“Do what makes you happy, Jordan. And you know that she makes you happy.”

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“You knew!” I shrieked. “Since when?”

“Of course I knew. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't notice? At first I thought he was there for his sister's performances but he kept showing up and well, darling, you were never the quietest, when you climbed down the trellis. But darling that's not the point. What you had with Evgeni was sweet and beautiful but you should love the person that makes you glad you're alive. And I can just tell by your voice that it's Jordan.”

“I- I just don't know what to do,” My voice broke as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, love? You need to ask for forgiveness.”

“I can't ask for forgiveness because if he forgives me, then that's twice that I've taken something from him. First the betrayal, and then the absolution.”

“The things two people in love do to each other, they remember. If they stay together, it's not because they forget; it's because they forgive.”
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I hope you liked this chapter! I worked really hard trying to add more dimension to the characters. The whole thing from Jordan's dad is from Bob Marley. I love that quote from him and I just had to include it.

Please comment!