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

The sky was a dark blue and with the round, full moon being obscured by the dark clouds, I was sitting on soft, green grass that surrounded a lake, I instantly recognized the place. It was the place where Evgeni and I would meet. “What are you doing here?” a smooth, deep voice behind me asked in Russian. The voice was one I knew all so well, it was Evgeni.

I turned around and got up as quickly as I could. He looked different, older, wiser, and he was taller than I remember. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, there was an unfamiliar coldness in his voice as he asked this question again.

“I’m here for you,” I say earnestly.

“What are you doing here?” His sweet voice now laced with annoyance.

“To see you,”

“What are you doing here?” an irate expression played on his beautiful face.

“I still love you,” I cried, my voice straining, my throat tight, it felt as though I couldn’t even get the words out.

“What are you doing here?” This time, he bellowed.

“She’s with me,” A voice behind me calmly spoke in English. I whipped around to see Jordan standing there with a smug smile on his lips. I couldn’t help but notice how I was positioned. I was facing Jordan now, overlooking the moonlit lake, and my back was to Evgeni.

“What are you doing here!” Evgeni yelled again, I turned around to respond but before I could face him, Jordan grabbed my wrist.

When I turned back to Jordan, a smirk was tugging at his lips and he shook his head from side to side, no. I looked at him with pleading eyes, I tried to form the words but no sound was coming out. I tried to shake my wrist free from his iron grip, but I couldn’t he just shook his head. I looked to Evgeni pleading for help.

“Why did you come here?” was all he asked, his features softened, his voice was now gentle and kind. “Why?” he asked again, “Why?” “Why?” he kept repeating the question over and over again and I tried to respond but the words kept getting lost, I felt as though I was spiraling out of control and the only thing keeping me in control was Jordan’s grip on my wrist. It like I was drowning, and before I sank, Evgeni grabbed my other wrist, keeping me up, keeping me alive.

“Why?” he asked again but this time with sadness in his voice.

I jolted awake in a cold sweat, “Why?” The question resonated within the corners of my mind. I was still focusing on the dream trying to remember every moment of it, the dream seemed more like a nightmare the more I though about it.

The handle on the door yanked down roughly and opened, “Svetlana, we’re going to dinner, do you want to come?” Anna asked looking like inviting me to dinner was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Sure, I’ll just get my jacket and we can go,” I say nodding.

Anna wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brow, “What kind of music is that?” I looked at her perplexed for a moment before realizing that Mariah Carey was still playing.

“Oh, it’s Mariah Carey. I’m going to use it for me solo,”

“Hmph, it’s really cheesy but if that’s your style,” Anna snickered before closing- no slamming, the door leaving me to the darkness, save for the moonlight pouring in from the window. I grabbed my jacket from the closet and I turned off my laptop, cutting Mariah off right when she began belting the chorus. I slipped my flats back on and went out of my room and into the bright, light of the living room.

“Morning, sleeping beauty!” Alicia said cheerfully, “Let’s go, there’s that new sushi place I’ve been dieing to try.” I nodded as we headed out of the apartment. When we were in the elevator the silence turned from normal to slightly uncomfortable as Anna kept looking at me and Alicia nervously. “So, Svetlana, have you found a song for your solo yet?”

Anna had this smirk on her face, “Oh yeah she did,” Alicia arched one eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s this Mariah Carey song, My All.” I say shyly, suddenly embarrassed by my song choice after Anna’s remarks.

“My All! I love that song! I’d give my all for your love tonight!” Alicia said excitedly, belting out the song albeit out of tune. “I can’t wait to see it,” Alicia added eagerly.

We walked to the sushi restaurant named, Sakura, which was just across the street, with Alicia leading. It looked very modern, with sleek mirrors and sharp angles and lines. The décor was mix of the sleek exterior and traditional Japanese motifs. When we were seated, I looked over the menu carefully. Sushi was something that I have only had once before in Russia. The concept was still foreign to me, but I did not have any problems with the idea.
“What are you going to order?” I ask unsure of what to order.

“Why don’t we do this family style? We’ll just order a bunch of rolls, so we can try everything.” Alicia suggested.

“Yeah, whatever,” Anna responded nonchalantly.

“Sounds good to me,” I say closing my menu before taking sip of my water. Within minutes the waiter came and we ordered an assortment of sushi from sashimi to a spider roll. Alicia and I tried to make small talk with Anna but she kept giving us one word answers so we gave up. I couldn’t help but steal glances at her and she looked worried again, like she didn’t want to be here.

The lack of small talk was good because it left me to my own devices. I tried to figure out my dream- no nightmare. Evgeni’s voice kept echoing in my head, “Why?” like he didn’t want me here, like he didn’t want to see me. Jordan’s smirk, when he gripped my arm, it made shivers run up and down my back. I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad and it kind of scared me. All of it felt so real, if I closed my eyes I could still visualize it, the lake dark and the moon round and full. The smell of lake water pungent, Jordan’s iron grip on my wrist, Evgeni’s sad, brown eyes. It was all so fresh in my mind that it seemed to be engraved in to my memory. It was eerily real.

“Yay!” I heard Alicia yelp as the waiter placed the sushi we ordered on the table, jolting me out of my thoughts. I shook my head, as if trying to shake the vivid nightmare out of my head. I turned my sights to the sushi, taking a slice of each roll and a little bit of sashimi. “I love sushi, its soo good and it’s good for you too!” Alicia chimed as she took a bite of her rainbow roll.

I looked at Anna, who had taken some sashimi and a slice of a caterpillar roll. I also noticed the large amounts of Sprite she was drinking, almost four cans and dinner hasn’t even started yet. As we dinner progressed, Alicia and I chatted, considering how Anna was unusually quiet, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at Anna, who was taking tiny bites of her sashimi and sushi, taking a tiny bite-barely a nibble- and then washing it down with a long drink of Sprite. By the meal’s end, she had only eaten what she had put on her plate in the first place and she had drunk nearly ten cans of Sprite. Before we left the restaurant, Anna excused herself to go to the restroom leaving Alicia and me to pay the bill. Alicia and I were happy to split the check, considering how delicious the sushi was.

“Let’s go,” Anna said flatly as she swallowed some breathe mints, walking past us briskly.

Alicia and I exchanged looks at her domineering tone but what could we do but follow her out of the restaurant and back to our apartment. The walk was quiet and brisk, as Anna was leading and dictating the pace. Her leading seemed to have a tone of seriousness that we had to obey. I- we were glad when we finally got into our apartment, being both exhausted from the day and Anna’s overbearing demeanor that seemed to weigh us down.

To be honest the next couple weeks moved so fast it was like a blur. If you asked me how the last month was, I wouldn’t be able to tell you, it all seemed to blur into one giant day. My days followed a schedule, wake up at 9:00 am, get to the theatre by 10:00 am, stretch out for morning class by 10:25 am, class starts at 10:30 am, class ends by 12:00 pm, eat lunch usually with Alicia and Anna at the cafeteria at 12:10 pm, go to pas de deux class at 12:50 pm, pas de deux class starts at 1:00 pm, pas de deux class ends at 3:00 pm, and work on my solo with the instructors till 4:00 pm or 5:00 pm, except on Mondays when I go out with Jordan. On Saturdays, it was basically the same, except I didn’t have pas de deux class but I still worked on my solo. Sadly, on my first weekend I was not able to go out with Jordan like I had hoped because I had to help Alicia on one of her jobs, where she does makeup and hair, and Jordan had a team meeting since the beginning of the season was coming up.

Before I knew it, it was the end of the month and auditions were coming up on Friday. The auditions were held on one day, where they call the dancers up one by one to perform their solo and if they have any issues to discuss they discuss it after your solo. They post castings on Monday, so we have a month and a half to perfect on our numbers. There will be only two solo roles available, a couple of pas de deuxs and three big group numbers. Besides the dancers already with the Company, the dancers graduating from the Academy will also be auditioning for parts. The tension in the apartment was at a boiling point, even Alicia was focused and concentrating on her solo, we hardly talked to each other except when necessary. We were all so focused it was frightening.

When Monday came around I was happy to get out of the apartment and all the stress and tension that building in our tiny flat. I patiently waited outside as I saw the familiar black car pull up along the curb and Jordan stroll out, “Waiting for someone, miss?”

“Oh, yes, in fact I am,” I say playing along.

“May I ask who?” Jordan asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Just a guy,” I reply nonchalantly.

“He must be a handsome guy with great blue eyes and a killer smile, am I right?”

“Oh no, I’m waiting for a sweaty, big hockey player who has an ego too big for his own good,” I reply with a smirk.

“Hey! I am not sweaty!” Jordan exclaims pouting, sounding and looking like a child, “And my ego is not too big!”

I give him an incredulous look, “No, Jordan you are not sweaty and your ego is not too big,” I manage to say without laughing.

“That’s right! Now let’s go get some coffee,” Jordan says triumphantly as we started walking to our destination. It has become a sort of tradition for Jordan to talk about his week as we walk to the Nicholas’s, I talk about mine when we sit down and on our walk back we talk about we plan to happen in the next week. So as we walked, Jordan talked about how practices are getting more intense as the season is drawing nearer and told me a couple of stories about a few pranks his teammates pulled. Eventually, we got to Nicholas’s and we sat down in “our” table, the table in the back that we sat in when we first came here together. “So tell me about your week,”

“Well, same old same old. Eat, sleep, dance, and work on my solo.”

“There’s something more, you’re hiding something from me,” Jordan states plain as day as he reads my expression. The waitress then comes to serve us our coffee giving a Jordan a flirtatious smile and giggle as she tugs on the hem of her shirt, lowering the neckline obviously trying to show off her cleavage.

I feel a flash of anger, like I want to punch the little, blonde waitress on the nose, I wrinkle my nose before responding, “It’s just life at the apartment is getting really frustrating. With auditions coming up, everything’s just really tense. It’s like I need to open a window just so I can breathe.”

“Hmm, sounds like us when the playoffs roll around,” Jordan says thinking, “Just wait till the auditions end, everything will ease up,”

“I hope so,” I say shuddering at the thought of our apartment staying in a perpetual state of tension.

“It will,” Jordan says reassuringly, as we drink our coffees.

I can’t help but think of the waitress, her name tag read “Jane.” The more I thought about it the more I wanted to hit her, the more I wanted to pull her hair, but I couldn’t figure out why. Why did I feel so much anger towards this “Jane?” Why did I feel so much resentment? Why did I feel so much disdain? No it wasn’t disdain or hate or resentment, it was jealousy. Why did I feel so much jealousy? Jordan’s just a guy, besides I have Evgeni. Or will have Evgeni. When I meet him again we’ll pick up right where we left off when I left for Moscow and he left for Pittsburgh. There is no point in feeling so jealous, I reassured myself as I drank the last of my coffee slowly, savoring the taste. I let the coffee linger on my tongue, never wanting to leave this place that felt more like home than the apartment that I am living in.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Jordan said as he drank the last of his coffee.

I suddenly felt my cheeks warm to a shade of pink, thinking of the flash of jealousy that Jane had elicited, “Oh, just thinking of the audition,”

“Let’s talk about it, outside,” Jordan said as we stood up and headed out the door.

I let out a weary sigh as we walked towards the apartment, “Okay, it’s just there are so many dancers in the Company and there are all the new graduating dancers from the Academy and there are only about 40 roles in the Showcase, some of them really small and there are only two solos given out and if you want a good role in The Nutcracker then you need to good in the Showcase. It’s just everything is riding on a 3 minute audition this Friday.”

Jordan just looked at me stunned at my long rant. I think I was a little stunned to, sure I was nervous but nerves were natural. I never knew how anxious I was for this audition till I voiced it now, “Relax, Sveta, just relax. You’re starting to sound like Sid before a big game. You were born to do this, you’ll do fantastic, you’ll get a great role in the Showcase and even greater role in The Nutcracker.” Jordan said, rubbing the back of my neck in reassurance.

I nodded weakly as we continued to walk, “My audition is on Friday, so I have the whole weekend off,” I add.

“Cool, maybe you can finally meet my teammates,” Jordan said excitedly, beaming at thought of me meeting his friends.

“Yeah, that would be fantastic!” I reply trying to contain my enthusiasm, I was glowing at the thought of seeing Evgeni again.

Jordan chuckled at my enthusiasm, “Okay then, see you this Saturday, when should I pick you up?”

“Well, where will we be meeting them?”

“I was thinking we go out for dinner first and then we can go meet them,” Jordan answered as we reached the front of my apartment.

“So I guess you can come pick me up around dinner time, like 6:30?”

Jordan thought for a moment before answering, “Okay then, Saturday at 6:30, it’s a date,” he said before quickly adding, “A friend date,”

I nodded as I gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek before saying our goodbyes. I don’t know how long I stood there smiling foolishly on the sidewalk before walking in. When I walked in I greeted Robinson, who has stopped making comments about me going out, but he has been writing in a notebook whenever I come in and out, just like he was doing now.

But I didn’t care, I was walking on air, I was elated with the thought of just seeing Evgeni again, which is probably why I didn’t care when I entered the apartment. The apartment’s atmosphere was more than tense, music was playing from both Alicia’s and Anna’s room. The music was so wildly different from each other, combined it was dissonant and cacophonous but more often the combination of the two songs was harmonious, consonant. The music was accented by the light sound of pointe shoes softly skimming the floor and the sound of Anna and Alicia counting off softly.

“1, 2, 3, 4,” I hear Alicia say to herself, in time with the music.

“5, 6, 7, 8,” Anna finishes as she counts to herself, in perfect beat with her music. I found myself struck by how in sync the two were, how close they were in their relationship. I was mesmerized as I walked as quietly as I could to my room, as if my mere presence would ruin the mood. Perhaps it already has, I thought solemnly to myself as I slid into my room, silently.

Resting on my bed, I didn’t visualize my routine, as much as I was going through the emotions of the dance. I wasn’t thinking of my double pirouette into a double attitude turn but I was thinking of the wanting and the longing that the song evoked. I wasn’t thinking of my grand jeté nor was I thinking about my battements, I was thinking of the heartbrokenness that the singer was feeling. If I could feel this dance as much as I could, then the judges could feel it too.



The next couple of days raced by me, as my days fell back into their similar pattern. Before I knew it, it was Friday morning and I was on the bus, with Alicia and Anna, going to the theatre. I was wearing a white leotard with a sweetheart neckline and a sheer pink skirt around my waist. My hair and makeup were natural, my hair pulled softly into a bun and I wore as little stage makeup as I could get away with. Costumes, hair and makeup were not required but it was recommended. Alicia was wearing a red, one shouldered dress that cascaded into a ruffled skirt. Her hair was slicked back into a bun, her hair parted sharply on the side, the bun decorated with a gold filigree comb, adding to the Spanish influence. Her eyes rimmed with dark eyeliner, and her lips stained red, she embodied the feeling of a tango dancer with her red and black lace fan as a prop. Anna was wearing a dramatic dress of layered blues, with a diaphanous light blue layer over a satiny navy blue with sparkles that reminded me of the night skies. Her hair was pulled into a French twist with pearl tipped pins that sparkled in the light. Her makeup consisting of smoky navy blue eye shadow that intensified made her baby blue eyes. She looked the most dramatic of us all. The ride was quiet, with Anna and Alicia listening to their iPods and me staring out the window, we were anxious for the bus to reach the theatre.

After what seemed like years, the bus finally jerked to a stop in front of the grand front of the theatre. The theatre seemed more opulent than ever as we walked in, through the front as opposed to the side door we usually used. This was the first time I walked through the lobby, the floor was marble with lush red carpet. On the walls hung posters of past productions ranging from the Nutcracker to some more contemporary ballets like The Great Gatsby. We checked-in before walking into the theatre itself, the plush red velvet stadium seats seemed to go on forever before we finally reached the stage. The large, open stage was in front of a panel of judges sitting front and center. The judges were composed of Mr. Orr, Madame Stiefel, Charlie, and two other people I did not recognize. On the stage, lots of dancers were either stretching or chatting casually. I immediately recognized Georgia, Martha and Leah stretching out decked in their costumes and makeup. Naturally we joined them and we started stretching and chatting about everything except the audition.

“Everyone, can I have your attention.” Mr. Orr’s voice boomed as he clapped his hands together gathering everyone’s attention, “Yes, now as you all know today is our audition for our Fall Showcase. I cannot stress enough how important the Fall Showcase is. The Showcase sets the tone for the entire season and showcases our new talent as well as our veterans. We will be starting with Leah Chang, everyone else please leave the stage.”

I saw Alicia give Leah a thumbs up before we had to leave the stage and take our places in one of the many seats. Some of us watched her performance. Others chose not to and simply listened to their iPods, tuning everything out. I watched as Leah sashayed across the stage, dancing to the familiar sound of Debussy’s Claire de Lune. She was ethereal but she seemed to lack a confidence and poise that made her seem more nervous than she was. As Leah took her ending pose, we applauded her as she stood in fifth waiting for the judges to dismiss her off the stage. The judges waved casually as they scribbled in a note pad, dismissing Leah. Leah rushed off the stage as she took a seat next to Alicia.

“Alejandro Diaz, you’re up,” I heard one of the judges drone, as Alejandro jogged up to the stage. Disappearing behind the curtain for a moment, he came out carrying a table. He set the table down on the center of the stage and disappeared behind the curtain again. The soft sound of the piano started the first few notes playing before Alejandro reappeared walking towards the table holding a framed picture. The emotion of the song was radiating off of him as he walked, falling to his knees while doing a single chaîné into a roll crawling his knees to the table before finally setting the photograph on the table. You could feel his tortured soul, his broken heart. He uses the photograph as a prop, at first treating with gentleness, setting down on the table with care, dancing and doing turns while holding the frame to the sky. Then, he takes the photograph and throws it across the stage with a passion, with anger. He pounds his fists on the table top in a frustration before he executes a flawless leap combination to reach the photograph. He does an incredible pirouette à la seconde combination into a cabriole, before longingly walking to the photograph. When he reaches the photograph he is on his knees, he clutches the frame with such vulnerability. He crawls to the table setting the photograph on the table, face down, before using the table as a support to get up. He walks away from the table as the song ends. The vulnerability, the raw emotions of the solo made tears well up in my eyes, as I applauded him. Slowly the applause turned into a standing ovation as I looked over at Alicia who had tears running down her cheeks as she stood clapping. Alejandro stood there on the stage bowing over and over again, looking almost bashful at such a reaction, a stark contrast to his normally cocky demeanor. The judges also stood, nodding and clapping approval, before waving him off. Alejandro took the table and the frame and carried it off stage, to the wings, before jogging off the stage.

“Martha Lewis,” Mr. Orr said as Alejandro joined is in the audience. Martha took a deep, ragged breathe before heading to the stage. I honestly wasn’t that close to Martha and in Anna’s words she was just “average,” just “plain Jane.” Apparently, she has been in the front of the corps for many seasons and has been one of the cygnets in the Dance of Cygnets in Swan Lake. As Martha took the stage, clad in a classic tutu that stuck out stiffly from her hips, she posed in a traditional pose, feet in fifth, the right in a tendu, arms crossed at the wrist and held at her chest. She danced to the sound of Mozart. The solo, as much as I hate to say, while technically sound was traditional and average. As the last few notes of the song played, Martha took her ending pose, an arabesque, followed by a polite applause as she ended.

The judges cleared their throats before Mr. Orr commented, “Thank you Martha. That was lovely, but it has come to our knowledge that you have been bringing boys back to your apartment. What do you have to say about that?”

Martha was at a loss for words unsure of what to say before finally responding her voice tight, “Th-that was just my cousin, he was visiting,”

“Hmm, well in this month’s report, it is said you have brought about five men back, and the amount in past reports is staggering, are all of them your cousins?”

“O-of course not, it’s just- just,”

“Just what my dear? You didn’t expect us to be keeping tabs on you?”

“N-no, it’s just th-that,”

“That is all, please sit down,” One of the other judges said waving Martha off the stage and she did just that with her head hanging low. Apparently that was their way of discouraging such behavior, humiliating you in front of your peers. “Ethan, you’re up.”

Ethan, one of the new graduates, came to stage with a youthfulness and confidence that was refreshing. His solo while strong, full of turns and jumps, lacked a concept other than showing off his turning ability and the height of his jumps.

I didn’t pay attention to the following solos, as we all tried to comfort Martha, who was inconsolable. “Alicia, you’re up.” Alicia gave Martha a few more encouraging words before going on stage.

Alicia took her beginning pose, her back facing the audience, her right arm extended upwards to the sky and her left arm arched so that the back of her left hand, holding her fan, is touching her right elbow. As the first few notes of the music started, she opened her fan, using it as an extension of her. The crowd cheered and wolf whistled as she danced her solo, leaving nothing to be doubted about her dancing ability. By the end of the routine, she had the crowd on their feet like Alejandro, but for an entirely different reason. She had them in the palm of her hand, she drew them in with her eyes and her charisma.

“Thank you, Alicia that was wonderful. Now, we would like to call Svetlana to the stage.” I was shocked and nervous all at the same time, seeing as they broke their pattern of girl-boy-girl. I took a deep breath before walking up to the stage.

“Go get ‘em girl,” Alicia said with a wink and a thumbs up as we crossed paths on the stairs leading to the stage.

I forced a smile as I got into the character of the dance. I assumed my starting pose, on the floor with my legs crossed and slightly bent so that my knees were to my chest with my back hunched over, my arms were folded around my legs and my toes pointed and extended so that they just touched the floor. I let myself fall into the emotions, drowning in them as I danced. Letting myself go as I let the movements come naturally to me, letting muscle memory take over as I lose myself in the emotions, focusing on nothing more than feeling the song and the steps as much as possible. Before I know it, I reach the end of my number, falling to my knees slowly extending into a stag split on the ground, letting my arms fall and my back arch back, releasing my head. Nothing would have prepared me for the roar of the audience as they clapped and cheered when the music stopped. I rose from the ground and bowed, blushing at the attention. After a while, one of the judges raised his hand and cleared his throat, silencing the audience.

“Lovely performance Svetlana,” Mr. Orr said with a grin, “In this month’s report,” Mr. Orr continued as he rifled through some papers, “It says that you’ve been going out with a guy, who I will not name, almost every week,”

I was caught off guard by the question but recovered to answer, “Oh, he is just a friend, who has been showing me around the city. So I can get familiar with Pittsburgh, seeing as I plan on being here for a good while,” I manage to say composing myself. I was determined to not be shaken like Martha. I shocked myself a little bit, at my sudden courage. A few months ago, I would have been so flustered and red, that I might have been too embarrassed to answer. But now, I was different, I had confidence and strength, where it came from I do not know. All I know is that I don’t want it to go away.

“Hmm, if you say so,” Mr. Orr said satisfied with my answer, while he waved me off the stage. I rushed to my seat with my legs shaking, from the adrenaline and the questioning.

“Great job,” Alicia whispered as I sat down, and another male dancer took the stage. “This is my guy right here. Go Robbie!” She cheered as he took his beginning pose, on his knees, his head on the ground, his arms stretched out. “He’s a former gymnast, too.” And it showed, he showed off his flexibility with straddle split leaps and incredible balances, his leg touching his ear at times, and he showed off his acrobatic ability with back flips and even a front flip landing on his knees. In a word he was incredible, Robbie had all of us for the fourth time on our feet, clapping. After the applause ended, the judges called up Anna.

From the moment she took her beginning pose, she was amazing. Her feet were so precise, her technique clean, her turns perfect, her leaps soaring but her face was stoic and her movements were wooden. There was a robotic stiffness that I had only noticed when looked past the technique. As much as I hated to say it, I had to agree with Mr. Orr in that she looked as though she didn’t enjoy what she was doing, which I knew was the contrary. As she took her ending pose, we all clapped but we didn’t feel compelled to stand. As she walked off the stage, I noticed she was wobbly, her legs looked painfully thin in the harsh, stage light, and her skin looked sallow. When she finally hobbled down the stairs, she fell to her knees. There was a collective gasp that was overshadowed by the music of the other dancer’s solo. Her chest was heaving and her arms looked emaciated as she tried to push herself up, but she couldn’t. It was as if she was too weak to push herself up or she just didn’t want to. She was lucky that judges were too busy judging the next dancer’s solo to see her fall. It wasn’t long before one of the guys helped her up. Alicia and she talked. You could tell by their facial expressions the gravity of their conversation.

“Anna and me are going to go back to the apartment is that okay?” Alicia asked as Anna started packing up her dance bag, “She’s really tired and I think she needs some bed rest.” I merely nodded, still wondering if I was the only one who noticed her dangerous behavior. I walked them out of the Theatre and when I returned to my seat, Georgia dancing her solo. She looked lovely, her red hair bound in a braid as she danced. She embodied innocence as she danced her interpretation of Chopin. When I took my seat, I noticed that Alejandro had taken the seat next to me.

“You did great out there,” he whispered as Georgia finished her solo.

“Thanks, so did you,” I add, blushing as another solo was starting. “You’re bound to get a solo with a routine like that.”

“Thanks but I don’t think so.”

“What? Why? You were wonderful,”

“It’s just that I already had a solo at the Summer Workshop and they don’t give two solos out in a row,”

“Oh, well you did do fantastic, so you’re practically guaranteed a good role in the Nutcracker,”

“So are you, the emotion of your dance was overwhelmingly good, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house,”

“Thanks, I was really focusing on the emotions to set my solo apart from the other ones.”

“Well, you did just that. Where are Alicia and Anna?”

“Oh, well Anna wasn’t feeling well after her solo, so Alicia went with her back to the apartment,”

“Thank God!” My mouth fell open. I didn’t realize that’s how he felt towards them. I mean Anna can be a pain sometimes but she means well and Alicia has been nothing but sweet and the perfect roommate, even if this past week has been a bit intense. “Oh, not like that. It’s just Anna is so annoying sometimes, don’t you think?”

“She’s just having a hard time, we all have our faults that we need work on.”

“Oh come on, you are too nice. You aren’t bothered in class whenever Charlie or Madame Stiefel say do a single pirouette and she does a double. Charlie’s nice enough to let it slide and not say anything about it. But I hear what happens whenever Madame Stiefel asks, ‘What was that?’ She just responds, ‘Oh I thought there was enough music for a double and wouldn’t a double be better?’ Ugh! She is just showing off because she can’t express any emotion.”

I was at a loss for words. I wasn’t annoyed at Anna for trying to a double when Madame asks for a single; I was more in awe of her courage and, as Alicia would say, guts. “I cannot say I’m really bothered about that. But, I do think you are being a bit too harsh on Anna. She works really hard and her technique is near perfect.”

“Her technique is good but her face is like stone. Come on admit it, she has no expression whatsoever,” Alejandro goaded.

“Okay, so Anna does have trouble in her face but her technique makes up for it,”

“Technique, technique, technique,” Alejandro mocked, “What is it with you and technique? Technique isn’t everything you know,”

“Yeah well, try dancing Swan Lake without it,”

“Whatever. All this talk about technique is shocking come from the dancer who performed the most emotional solo of the day,”

“Technique is important in the Russian school, technique is hammered into you when you’re a child but so is expression. I guess it’s harder for some people to be that expressive,” I say softly.

“I guess,” Alejandro says flatly, “Seeing as we have this weekend off, do you wanna go out this Saturday night?”

I was shocked by how forward he was and how casual he was about it, as if he asks out girls all the time. I was at a loss for words, not really sure how to respond. It’s not like Alejandro’s not handsome but I just don’t see a relationship with him, considering Evgeni. Plus, if we did go out and it ended badly then how could we still be partners? “Uh-umm,” I stuttered as I tried thinking of ways to let him down easily, then Jordan flashed through my mind, that’s right. We have plans tomorrow night. I’d been so focused on the auditions that he just slipped my mind. “I don’t think so, and it’s just that I have plans with a friend tomorrow night. Sorry.”

“Oh, well maybe some other time then,” Alejandro said obviously feeling dejected. Just as Alejandro said that, the last dancer finished her solo. It was one of the new graduates. Her name was perhaps Joan.

Mr. Orr clapped his hands together gathering everyone’s attention, “Great job today, dancers. You certainly made all of our jobs much harder. You are all free to leave. Have a great weekend dancers, castings will be up on Monday before lunch.”

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I gathered my dance bag and pulled pair of sweat pants over my leotard and wrapped a light pink cardigan around my torso. I walked out of the theatre with Alejandro, who I had grown accustomed to riding the bus back to the apartment with. The bus ride back was painfully quiet and awkward and I hated to think it was because I turned him down.

As we walked into the elevator Alejandro suddenly muttered, “Sunday lunch,”

“Wh-what?” I asked as the elevator doors closed and we pressed our respective buttons.

“Sunday lunch, how about we go out for lunch on Sunday?”

I furrowed my brow, I didn’t want to lead him on but the awkward silence in the bus terrible. “Sunday sounds great.” I relent but not before adding, “But I will only go out with you as friends, okay? It’s just that if we break up or something then we couldn’t be partners anymore.”

“Okay, then Sunday at lunch as friends, sounds perfect to me,” he says with a touch of disappointment in his voice, as the elevator reaches my floor, “I’ll see you there.”

“Till Sunday,” I respond as I walk out of the elevator, waving goodbye. When I walked into the apartment, I noticed Alicia sitting on the couch watching TV and the water in the bathroom running. “Wh-”

“She’s taking a bath. Everything has been so hectic recently that she hasn’t been eating well, so she didn’t have the strength she needed.” Alicia said calmly. I sat down next to her as I absently watched TV with her. “You did good out there,” Alicia said encouragingly.

“Thanks. You were amazing out there, too.” I say gushing.

“Thanks,” Alicia said bashful, for once in her life, “I hope I get a good part in the Showcase and in The Nutcracker,”

“You will. Based on that solo, there is no doubt you’ll get a great role in both.” I say yawning, tired from the day, both emotionally and physically.

“Poor thing,” Alicia said taking on the role of Mother Hen, “Go take a nap, you must be exhausted.” I nodded as I walked to my room, dragging myself onto my bed. But as hard as I fought, I could not stop sleep from overpowering me and let the dreams, or nightmares, fill the corners of my mind.



“What do you think of Robert? He had really great extension,” Mr. Orr said looking at the résumé before him, consisting of his professional experiences, education, responsibilities, qualities and measurements. He had about fifty of these résumés in three piles in front of him. The judges and he had not been able to narrow down their choices for the prime roles, meaning they had set the corps and the nine soloists for the three group numbers. They still needed to choose who would be in the two pas de deuxs, and the male and female dancer who would have solos.

“Yeah, he has great legs but I think that’s all he is. It’s kind of tragic if you think about it,” Angel Godinz, the former director of the Miami Ballet who is now teaching at the Academy, said being a touch dramatic.

“I know what you mean, the song was about someone believing in you, and there was so much passion in the lyrics. But, he just kind of got up there did a lot of balances and flexibilities.” Charlie noted as he placed Robbie’s résumé in a growing pile of ‘no’s for solos.’

“He did have a great toe point and great acrobatics, but he has potential, he isn’t the tallest but he dances tall. Still, I’m not sure he’s ready for a solo, in the first production of the year,” Angel said.

“You think so? But he did look really good in the Academy all year. Plus he could show a lot growth in years to come. Isn’t that what the Showcase is about? Showing off our new talent.” Mr. Orr noted as he snatched Robbie’s résumé from the ‘no’ pile and placed the résumé in the ‘yes’ pile. There may have been 4 judges but Mr. Orr had the final say.

“What about Alejandro?”

“He was fantastic. I think I can speak for all of us when I say that he touched all of us with his performance.” Cynthia Kent, the retired star of the American Ballet Theatre and teacher at the Academy.

“Exactly, he had such a Baryshnikov quality to him, he was so vulnerable yet so masculine,” Madame Stiefel commented. “He would have the solo but I do not think it would be a good idea to give him two solos in a row.”

“I see what you mean,” Cynthia says, pausing before resuming, “Giving him two solos in a row would enlarge his ego, and since he is a dancer his ego is large enough and what would the audience think if we gave the same dancer two solos. They would think that the Academy isn’t doing as well. But I think he should definitely get a great role in the Nutcracker.” Cynthia finished as she placed his résumé in the ‘no’ pile.

“All the better for me,” Charlie said, “I want him for my pas de deux.”

“What about Alicia? She’s really made leaps and bounds over the summer, no pun intended,” Mr. Orr commented.

“Yeah, she had such presence and those leaps looked as though she was shot out of a cannon she was so high,” Angel commented, “Definitely solo material,” as he placed her résumé in the ‘yes’ pile.

“The way she interpreted the music through her choreography and costuming was fantastic. Also, she was one of the only ones who used a prop, and it is significantly harder to dance with a prop,” Madame Steifel said.

“Her turns are lacking, but she was smart in camouflaging them. I think I know only a handful of male dancers that would even have the guts to try some of the combinations she performed,” Mr. Orr agreed.

“My point precisely,” Angel said. “What about Anna? Her technique was flawless. I remember seeing her when she was just a little girl with that amazing technique,” He said as he looked thoughtfully at her résumé, “She had a great solo, so much content and great music. Her turns were spot on.”

“Yeah? Was she as robotic when she was a little girl?” Mr. Orr said sharply.

Angel wrinkled his nose, “Yes,” he admitted, “But she did have a pretty fantastic solo. You can’t deny that only a handful of girls could do the first half of that routine. Most wouldn’t even have the stamina for it, let alone the technique and talent to.”

“It was bangin’,” Charlie added, “She has such an amazing presence and she’s more than paid her dues.”

“But she is so difficult to work with and her attitude is definitely not the best,” Madame Stiefel added, “But she has been working hard, she’s even been losing weight and I think it’s been great for her line and overall look.”

“I don’t know if she’s solo worthy yet, having no expression or emotion can really break a solo, but she at least deserves a group solo role.” Cynthia added as she placed Anna in the ‘yes’ pile. “Now let’s talk about Svetlana. I know you guys have been dieing to talk about her.”

“She’s pretty amazing, she had such an emotional performance and her technique was amazing. She was like Pavlova mixed with Legnani. She was so Russian in the way she attacked this routine, she pounced on to pointe, she didn’t just roll onto it, she was so aggressive, but still managed to look graceful. She was classical yet modern at the same time,” Angel gushed.

“What else would you expect? She’s legacy. Did you see her flexibility though? It was insane, she had such an incredible oversplit.” Cynthia added.

“She has done really well in my class and her turnout is perfect. The emotions in the solo was so vivid and raw,” Madame Stiefel commented, “She should definitely get a solo,”

“Unlike someone we know,” Mr. Orr hinted, not subtly, “But, I’m not sure I like this Jordan Staal thing.”

“What are you her Dad? At least she answered your question with grace and she didn’t get flustered,” Charlie joked, “I know it sounds selfish but I want her for my pas de deux with Alejandro. They’re already partners so the chemistry will already be there and chemistry is what I need for the number I plan on doing,” Charlie continued light-heartedly.

“Look all I’m saying is what if Svetlana’s only here to hook up with hockey players? She could have gone anywhere but she came here,” Mr. Orr defended.

“And all I’m saying is that even if she was, you have no right to tell her not to see Jordan Staal. She’s a big girl.” Charlie retorted.

“I think I have right to have some vested interest in my dancers. Besides how would it look on the Company if our Russian starlet was a puck bunny?” Mr. Orr snapped back, “She should be reprimanded for this.”

“Okay, I get it hockey players are bad. But is that really necessary?” Charlie asked, “You aren’t going to punish Martha for practically bringing half the city of Pittsburgh into her apartment, but you’re going to punish Svetlana for going out for coffee with maybe her only non-dance friend in Pittsburgh. Clearly this Jordan Staal thing isn’t hurting her dancing it might be even helping it.”

“Yes, I am,” Mr. Orr said flatly, “She will not be eligible for a solo in this Showcase. But you will get her for your pas de deux, if that will keep you from whining,” Mr. Orr grumbled darkly, as he placed her résumé in the ‘no’ pile, exercising his power as the director.