by JJ Knight
And my parents aren’t dead. Just shell-shocked. Maybe they will one day realize how they have overreacted.
I still have hope for seeing my family again. Dominika does not.
“Let’s go inside,” Dmitri says. “It looks as though they are about to start the choreography.”
Blitz, Dmitri, and I walk in. We do not go to the corner with Jenica and Dominika, but settle on the edge of one of the trampolines, which have been pushed against the wall. I’m fine with this. I’m not sure I’m ready to meet a prima ballerina in person yet.
The three coaches spread out and lead a warm-up. Only now that I’m settled do I notice that Weeza is out there. I elbow Blitz. “Look,” I say. “Three from the end.”
“Weeza,” Blitz says. “She got new tights for the occasion.”
He’s right. She’s traded her slashed tights for new plain black ones. Her hair is slicked back today, not in tight blond pigtails all over her head.
“Who knew she could be classy?” Blitz says.
“She must be pretty good to make the first cut,” I say.
“Have you ever seen her dance?” he asks. “I haven’t.”
I shake my head. “Not once. Maybe she waits until after the normal hours.”
“Maybe we scare her off.”
We watch the dancers go through mostly traditional exercises. You start to see the difference in their training when in some of the ballet positions, a few of the dancers have different arm placement. They quickly conform to the coaches.
“Wait. The five positions aren’t universal?” Blitz asks.
“There are some slight variations,” Dmitri says. “It is not important.”
“People doing the basics differently isn’t important?” Blitz is clearly troubled with this.
“They are only the foundations,” Dmitri says. “It’s the form that matters.”
The dancers start working on the first sequence of the dance.
“What ballet is this?” I ask.
“You Americans know it as Sleeping Beauty,” Dmitri says. “It is one of three ballets by Tchaikovsky, the others, of course, being The Nutcracker and Swan Lake.”
“What role are you thinking of for Livia?” Blitz asks.
“It has not been discussed at great length just yet. I only discovered your Livia last week,” Dmitri says.
I want to protest the “your Livia” but let it go as a cultural or language issue. I lean forward, my elbows on my knees, certain I don’t look even in the ballpark of Dominika’s grace or poise.
“Does the ballet have three fairies like the movie?” Blitz asks. “Livia should be the blue one.”
Dmitri laughs. “There are many fairies in the ballet. But only one important one, the…” He hesitates. “It is purple, not the bright one.”
“Lilac,” I say.
“Yes, the Lilac Fairy,” Dmitri says. “And of course there is Carabosse, the evil fairy.”
I turn to the boys now. “Can I be evil?”
Dmitri’s lips curl into a sardonic smile. “You are ready for a change of image, yes? Perhaps. We would review the technical aspects of the dance, and see if they fit your style and abilities.”
My gaze goes back to the dancers. Some are obviously nervous, concentrating fiercely, struggling to keep up. I feel badly for them, doubly so because I’m sitting here on my butt, being offered parts with no effort at all.
So strange how life goes.
“I’d love to go for the evil fairy,” I say.
Dmitri claps his hands. “I will talk to Ivana,” he says. “We will see how you do and if it is a good fit. I’m sure she can get you ready.”
“When does the ballet begin?” Blitz asks.
“This is our last audition stop,” Dmitri says. “We’ve already been to New York, Boston, and Miami. Rehearsals start in two weeks.”
“Where will those be?” Blitz asks.
“Chicago, actually,” Dmitri says. “One of our producers is lending us his space for the six weeks of rehearsals.”
Blitz glances over at me. I know what he’s thinking. Six weeks in Chicago. If he should come, or if he’d be in the way.
“And the tour?” he asks.
“Thirty shows in eight cities.” Dmitri rubs his hands together. “It will be a grand occasion.”
“So another, what, three months?” Blitz asks.
“Thereabouts,” Dmitri says. “It’s a six-month commitment.”
Blitz nods his head, but he’s looking down. I wonder if this is hard for him to think about. He’s definitely less excited than he was.
What do I want?
It’s a novel thing to think about. I had years of my father’s rule, then running to do the show, wandering around based on what life was throwing at me.
Now I can just…choose.
I shift my gaze to watch the dancers move through their roles. A few of them are called from the line and cut. One girl’s eyes tear up as she plucks her number from her leotard.
Disappointment. I know it well.
But being evil has a nice ring to it.
Chapter 10
I work like crazy the next week. We hire a private ballet teacher and rent a small studio, far from both Dreamcatcher and Jenica’s. This gives me the distance I need to focus.
We watch various versions of the Sleeping Beauty ballet and work on my general ability to act and portray a character as well as dance. The director of the new ballet will determine how to portray the evil fairy, but I don’t want to be caught so off guard that I’m not even in the ballpark.
Mostly, I stay en pointe as many hours a day as I can without injuring myself. It’s the hardest work I’ve ever done, but it’s better to do it now while I’m still on my own than later, when I have a room full of ballerinas who wanted my role watching me for mistakes and weakness.
My feet start looking like a real ballerina’s, covered in callouses and blisters, the nails bruised and short. I’m embarrassed by them, but Blitz is so impressed by my dedication that they become badges of honor.
By the time Dmitri calls us to a staff meeting, I feel better about doing a ballet. It only remains to be seen what they will offer me and if I will take it.
And then there is Blitz. For over half a year now, we’ve been together constantly other than brief trips. This is a long haul. Six months on the road for me. I don’t know if he’ll stay behind or come along. I doubt I’ll have much time for him, as my life will be a lot like when we were rehearsing and filming Dance Blitz.
Our plans to negotiate as a team go up in smoke when a big talk show, one of the biggest, has a cancellation and wants Blitz to fill the last-minute slot. It’s an incredible opportunity for him, a shot he’s dreamed of. But it falls on the same day as the staff meeting for Sleeping Beauty.
He hesitates, but I refuse to let him, assuring him I can handle negotiations on my own. He regrets not getting me an agent before now. I promise not to sign any papers without sending them to his lawyer, Larry.
And he’s off.
I’m pretty nervous, so instead of driving myself, I call Ted to take me to the hotel where Dmitri and Dominika are staying.
Ted drives Blitz’s red Ferrari now, and when he arrives in it, I decide to sit up front, like I did when Blitz and I were first together.
“I hope it’s not too flashy,” Ted says.
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “Maybe it will bring me good luck.”
“You seem to have all the luck you need,” he says as we head through the back streets to the freeway.
He doesn’t know what happened with Gwen and Gabriella. Or my family. It’s always easy to see the fun parts. The fame. Money. Stardom. And it’s true that I’m probably about to be handed something other girls will work hard for and never get.
I stare out the window. San Antonio zooms by. The reasons to stay here are gone now. Gwen won’t let me see my daughter. I can’t dance at Dreamcatcher. Maybe this is the right thing. See more cities. Make a new
home. I guess I was right to hesitate on buying a house.
At church, Irma always says that when God closes a door, He always opens a window.
This ballet just might be the window.
Ted pulls through the valet circle and stops in front of the gold and glass entrance. “Go get ’em,” he says.
A porter opens my door. I step out uncertainly, already forgetting which meeting room I’m supposed to go to.
I walk slowly through the main doors, fiddling with my phone to find the email that lists the location.
A woman’s voice calls out, “Livia?”
I look up. It’s Juliet, the professional ballerina who often comes to Dreamcatcher Academy to help with classes. She is the daughter of the owner, Danika, and the wife of Bennett, who was one of the Dance Blitz producers who got Blitz started in the business. She also helped me the night I walked onto the finale of the show.
I’m so glad to see her I could cry. I hurriedly catch up to her. She’s lovely in a soft white sundress, her black hair falling down her back.
“Are you going to be in the ballet?” I ask.
“Oh, no, I’m under contract,” she says. “But Blitz called Bennett to see if he could recommend someone to help you with this negotiation since he had to leave, and Bennett thought I could help.”
She envelops me in a hug that smells of lavender. I’m so glad she’s here. My nerves are completely calmed knowing she will be helping me.
“He didn’t tell me!” I exclaim.
Juliet leads us to the elevators across the atrium. “I just found out myself a half hour ago. I had to throw on some clothes and get over here!”
“Thank you,” I say. “I have no idea what I’m doing!”
The elevator dings and the door slides open.
We step inside.
“It sounds like they are bringing you on as a guest ballerina. Usually those roles are a little less taxing than some of the others. There are many fun but minor roles in Sleeping Beauty. There’s an entire cast of storybook characters at the end.”
“I was hoping for the evil fairy.”
Juliet nods. “That’s a primary role. But it can be a dancing role or just an acting role.”
“Have you done the ballet?”
“Yes, we toured Eastern Europe with it two years ago.”
“Did you have a role?”
“I was Princess Florine. She dances with Bluebird at the wedding in the third act. It’s a nice minor role. A pas de deux and a short solo.”
I couldn’t even imagine getting a bigger role than someone like Juliet. She’s been a professional ballerina for years. Maybe I shouldn’t negotiate for that. It’s too much. I watch the numbers change on the elevator display, thinking.
“Is there a different part I should do, then?” I ask her.
“There are nice roles with only small amounts of dancing, especially in the prologue and the wedding. You could be a secondary fairy. Or one of the storybook characters. They are fun.”
“You think I shouldn’t dance much?”
“Well,” she says, “it’s more an issue of overtaxing your body and getting injured. You don’t have a lot of years behind you. It’s a distinct disadvantage.”
The elevator slows to a stop. “You know where we’re going?” I ask.
“The lounge on the top floor,” she says.
“Have you done meetings like this?” I ask.
“Not personally. I belong to a specific company where roles are cast internally. But certainly in some of the touring ballets, they work to get big names and there are negotiations like what you’re about to do.”
We walk down the hall to the end. A pair of double doors are thrown open, and inside is an expansive room filled with sofas and armchairs.
In the corner formed by two enormous windows is a long meeting table. Four people sit there, including Dmitri. I don’t see Dominika.
Dmitri stands. “Livia, how lovely to see you!” He reaches for my hand. Instead of shaking it, though, he brings it to his lips for a quick kiss. “This must be Juliet Claremont. Thank you for letting me know you were coming to assist Livia.”
He kisses her hand as well, then says, “Please, let me introduce you.”
We take seats at the end of the table.
“This is Alexei Baryshnikov,” Dmitri says. “He is an expatriate like most of us and serves as our founding patron.” He gestures to an elderly man with bright eyes beneath bushy white brows. His hair is so white and thick, it almost appears to be a wig.
He nods at us. “Pleasure,” he says.
Dimitri points at two women on the opposite side, their fair hair lit by the big windows. “This is Ivana. I spoke of her. She is our primary choreographer. We brought her with us from Russia.”
Ivana gives a small wave but does not smile.
“And this is Evangeline. We hired her in Miami to lead the auditions and training, as well as to work with the corps ballerinas.”
Evangeline is blond and has a dancer’s poise. “Nice to meet you,” she says. She is more stiff than Ivana, and I sense her appraising me as if I don’t quite meet her standards.
“We have a few other instructors and trainers,” Dmitri explains. “But it was not necessary to bring them here.”
“Have most of the casting decisions been made?” Juliet asks.
Alexei speaks. “We have a preliminary list,” he says. “We know the makeup of most of the corps, the King and Queen and some incidental non-dancing roles. Dominika will play Aurora, of course. And we have a very talented gentleman in the role of the Prince.”
“Have you cast the minor fairies?” Juliet asks. “Or the storybook characters?”
“Some of them,” Dmitri says. “Puss in Boots is cast. Cinderella. Bluebird. Two fairies.”
“What are you looking at for Livia?” Juliet asks.
The table is quiet. Evangeline cuts her eyes to the choreographer, Ivana. Alexei holds on to the polished top of an intricate cane that rests between his knees.
“There is some concern,” Dmitri says carefully, “that any larger role would be too much for a ballerina of your…” he falters, as if his English is not providing him the sensitive words he needs. “Tender early training. It is my understanding you are only six months en pointe.”
“She is,” Juliet says. “But she is a well-rounded dancer. She is up for whatever role will place her in the prominence you need to be able to use her celebrity as a publicity tool. She can’t exactly go on talk shows as a courtier or a corps ballerina.”
“We doubt she could even keep up with the corps,” Ivana says quickly. “It’s very technical and requires her form match the others.”
I try not to squirm. It’s the same sort of thing that was said about me in the Dance Blitz meetings. No one ever has any faith in what I can do.
But I am new. I am not a career dancer. I didn’t start when I was four. And I’ve certainly never had to do ballet all day long, week after week.
Alexei speaks next, both hands on the cane. “We want her to dance. If we want her to be part of the publicity, she has to dance.”
“You would like to be Carabosse, is that right, Livia?” Dmitri asks.
All eyes are on me now.
“It does look like a fun role,” I say.
Ivana stands up, her face blazing red. “We agreed Carabosse would not be an old hag stumbling around the stage! We agreed it before I signed on! We wanted a beautiful Carabosse who would dance like the other fairies!”
“Sit, sit, Ivana,” Dmitri says. “No one is going to take away from your vision.”
“But she has no experience!” Ivana says. She plunks back down in the chair. “She can’t possibly do a solo. She won’t hold up to the standards of the other dancers. We will have to scale the choreography way back.”
Juliet slides her hands forward on the table to get the others’ attention. “We may be underestimating her,” Juliet says. “You have not even watched her dance more than a
television number. I have seen Livia dance for this entire two years, and I believe that while she is young in her training, she has a lot of talent.”
She turns directly to Ivana. “And matching a dancer’s skill to her role is what great choreographers do.”
Ivana sits back in her chair, her dark eyes blazing. With the sun lighting up her hair, she looks like an angry ghost. “I say White Cat. It’s a cute role. Lots of character. Less technical than what we planned for the prologue.”
“Now, now, Ivana,” Alexei says. “Nobody even knows White Cat is in the ballet. People will say, ‘What role is that?’ Making her the evil fairy aligns her with Maleficent, and will make a wonderful poster with her behind Aurora.”
“I come from a place where the dance is more important than marketing, Alexei,” Ivana says sharply.
“Well, I will remind you that without an audience, we have no dance,” Alexei retorts. He stamps his cane on the hardwood floor. “You will work with Livia and find the best use of her technique. Carabosse does not dance with the corps, so it is fine for her style to be less technical than theirs. Any deficiencies she has can be played off as in character.”
Dmitri leans forward, bracing his elbows on the table. His perfectly groomed brows offset his light gleaming eyes. “Keep in mind that it is Aurora they will judge the dancing by. Carabosse is about the story.”
Ivana crosses her arms over her chest. She has nothing more to say, it seems.
“Can she even act?” Evangeline asks. “We were very rigorous with the auditions for the acting roles!”
Everyone turns to me. My throat goes dry. This is worse than I imagined.
“I was able to play nice with Giselle,” I say.
This gets a snort from Evangeline. “I can’t believe you stood on the same stage with her.”
“I wanted to push her offstage most of the time, but I did what needed to be done for the audience,” I say.
Juliet leans forward. “Trust me when I tell you that Hollywood is more brutal than even the most horrible ballet rivalry. If Livia can survive that brutal schedule and live broadcasts and hold up through three months of ten-hour rehearsals and filming, she can do this.”
