Hartnell Down

Scott Hartnell wasn't really into the arts. Especially not ballet. But when he saw that he could get tickets for relatively cheap, and realized that he had absolutely nothing to do, he went. And it was the best decision he ever made.

Scott's Point of View

I headed down the street towards the small theater near my house; it wasn't exactly at the top of the list of things I wanted to do, but I had nothing better to do. The theater had advertised a "new and exciting piece, featuring the company's newest ballerina", and while I really, REALLY hoped the guys didn't know I was going, I felt bad since the theater was so close, and I didn't spend enough time (or money) in Philly.

So there I was, standing in front of the small building, a ticket clutched in one hand. I headed into the theater, and I found my seat, and I tapped my feet impatiently on the ground. Everyone else there was either really old, or over zealous high school arts kids whose heads were filled with dreams of being the people on stage one day.

I kind of zoned out after the ballet began, but for some reason my attention returned and my eyes were drawn towards the stage about halfway through the performance. Dancing on the stage was an absolutely gorgeous woman in a flowing purple dress. The dress wasn't like the garrish and overly typical tutus that the rest of the women had been wearing; it was layers of deep purple and light lavender silk that hugged the woman's delicate figure perfectly, with flowing off the shoulder sleeves that made her look like a bird about to take flight. I sat up straighter and watched as she did take flight, her legs flying out from beneath her and giving her the momentum to careen through the air gracefully.

I watched as she twirled and twisted her body in ways that shouldn't have been humanly possible, completely fascinated by her as she danced. And then, when I thought she couldn't move any more quickly, she stopped, holding her position firmly, her leg bent over her head like a scorpion's tail. I felt my eyes widen; it was amazing that she could stay in one place like that.

And then something more fascinating happened. Our eyes met. Her eyes were the strangest shade of blue I had ever seen; they were the stormy blue grey of the ocean, with flecks of baby blue scattered throughout. I felt the breath leave my chest as our eyes met, and then she was off again, fluttering around the stage and capturing everyone else's attention.

Nika's Point of View

I returned to my dressing room, panting slightly as I went. Sweat dripped down my face, and my body was trembling. Not from the dancing however, but from the strangest experience I had ever had in my eighteen years of life.

There had been a man in the crowd, and as I had posed for what was probably the most vital part of my solo, our eyes had met. He had such soft, kind eyes, but they were full of a strange sadness that I had never seen before. He had a gentle face, and short, curly, reddish brown hair. I had become fascinated by him, but I forced myself to look away as I finished my solo.

But now that I was backstage, I could dwell on the man in privacy. I would not have to go on again for another long while, so I stretched out my legs gently and then changed for my next scene; a gorgeous costume designed to make me look like a phoenix. The title of the ballet was "Evolution du phenix", or "The Evolution of the Phoenix", a groundbreaking new piece being put together by this little theater in Philadelphia. I had been given the part of the phoenix, and I was determined to perform to the best of my abilities.

Scott's Point of View

I walked out of the theater stunned. I had been completely entranced by the ballerina in the purple dress. When she had come out later in flaming orange, looking like a magnificent bird, I had nearly lost my shit. I was confused as to why I was so fascinated by her, but I didn't question that I was. I had (in a moment of either bravery or complete stupidity, I hadn't decided which) sent her flowers with a card telling her how talented she was, and I gave her my phone number, hoping she would call. I wasn't necessarily trying to score, but I needed to know what about her was so enchanting.

Nika's Point of View

"Nika, flowers!" one of the younger dancers, a boy of about 9 or 10, chirped as he knocked on my dressing room door. I floated up from my seat and collected the flowers, about 4 bouquets overall, thanked him, and returned to my dressing table. The flowers immediately began to fill the room with their beautifully light fragrance, and I froze as I took in one overly familiar scent. I turned slowly to see a few camomiles poking out of the simplest of the bouquets and I was nearly overwhelmed with tears. I immediately gathered the bouquet in my arms and inhaled deeply. The scent was nearly enough to transport me back home, but then something crunched against my fingers and I pulled a card from between flower stems.

Miss Chirkoff,

I wanted to let you know how beautifully you danced tonight. I was completely enchanted, and I would love to see you dance again.

Scott Hartnell

There was a phone number scrawled at the bottom of the card, and I felt my cheeks flush. Nobody had ever sent me a card like that before.