Status: Renovation in process

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

Safe

“I heard he’s adding another show to the season. Something soon, like between now and The Nutcracker,” Alicia said between bites of her apple, her feet propped up on her vanity in not-so-glamorous dressing room that we share with three other corps girls. For now. It’s only a matter of time before Kevin from ABT was calling with a soloist contract. “You know to tide the Company over.”

“Well,” I paused, carefully studying my neck in the mirror. My concealor-covered neck to be specific. Making sure there was no trace of the night before, “It’s October,” A solid month of rehearsals for The Nutcracker. Most of the dancers have been relearning old roles and could dance The Nutcracker in their sleep. We did do it. Every. Single. Year. But I was one of the lucky ones. Moving up¸ even if this might be my last year with the Company. “Mr. Orr will have to say soon and it can’t be anything to complicated or we won’t be able to learn it in time. He really only can stage it in November. He can’t stage it in October, it’s too soon and December we’ll be too busy with The Nutcracker to do anything else.”

“Unless he just wants to do three or four short pieces, ya know? Like some Balanchine, no story things and few Robbins pieces. Easy peasy. Well not easy peasy but fast enough to learn and not a lot of emotional commitment needed, ya know?” Alicia bit into her apple, staring off into the distance as she chewed. “Man he must really want to milk Gelsey’s last year.”

“And the publicity from The Showcase and Gelsey’s last year, I don’t blame him. After all, we need to keep the crowds coming,” I patted on more powder on faint reddish, purplish marks. “If they do it right, we could stage some Balanchine and Robbins pieces for dirt cheap and still get a packed house to come.”

“Plus Svetlana’s cover! That got loads of attention,” Alicia stopped, as soon as she realized that she had started to tread into a sensitive topic. “But I mean, it is just a local magazine. What do you think Gelsey is gonna do after this year?” Alicia added quickly, changing the subject.

“Who knows,” I shrugged off the waves of anger at the sheer thought of precious little Svetlana and her lovely little cover being the reason why the house has been more packed than usual, “Maybe she’ll finally get to marry Lincoln.”

“Do you think Mr. Orr will finally let her go?”

“Y-” I stopped. “No. He has his claws deep in her and I doubt he’ll let her go now. He needs a new muse first. A new victim. If retirement was the solution to Gelsey’s problems, she would have retired a long time ago, right?”

“Not unless she loved dancing that much. Mr. Orr would have had her blacklisted if she ever left.”

Image


“I’m rehearsing a new role,” I said as I molded my body to Jordan’s, wrapping the covers around us. “Mr. Orr wants to stage a new ballet in November.”

“Oh? What is the role?” Jordan murmured in my hair.

“The character is called ‘The Nymph’ and Alejandro will play ‘The Faun’ but really it’s just names to make the title fit more and an ode to the original poem about a faun and his real or imagined encounters with nymphs. It’s called ‘Afternoon of a Faun’ and it’s choreographed by Jerome Robbins. It’s set in an empty ballet studio and the audience or the “fourth wall” is the mirror. The Nymph and Faun are dancers who meet there by chance, and of course they start to dance.”

“That doesn’t sound as sad and traumatizing as the other ballets you’ve told me about,” Jordan joked, referring to the fact that I’ve been telling him the stories of the ballets I’ve danced. Between Odette in Swan Lake and the supposed comedy of Franz spurning his true love in favor of a doll in Coppelia, I didn’t blame him.

“It is sad in its own way. The tragedy is that they are more absorbed in their own images in the mirror than in the reality of their intimate physical contact as they dance together. If they were more aware of the apparent chemistry and not so obsessed with their image then a romance might have ensued. I think Robbins is saying something fundamental about the essential narcissism of dancers and perhaps the audience too. I mean you sit next to someone for over two hours watching and feeling the same ballet but do you ever actually talk to this person?”

I frowned at my revelation. “I’m sorry for rambling, I’m just tired. How was practice?”

“Good, good. I have the day free tomorrow. Maybe we can do something.”

“I would like that,” I smiled, “What do you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Ice skating!” I blurted out. “I’ve never ice skated before!” I blushed, I must have sounded like a little kid.

“Never? Isn’t that like a crime in Russia to not know how to ice skate?”

“I was never allowed to as a kid. It was too dangerous.”

“Dangerous? It’s ice skating.”

“It’s too risky,” I clarified, “I could get injured or hurt. Same reason why I’m not allowed, contractually, to ski or snowboard or anything extreme like that.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that,” He kissed my forehead, “I’ll keep you safe and injury free.”
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I'm sure all of y'all must be sick of me saying how I'm so sorry about always being MIA. But I am! Really! School has just been keeping me busy as usual. I'll try to update as much as possible, during the break. So this is just something to tide y'all over.

Please tell me what you think :D