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Dance In Your Blood

March 3, 2005

Dancing since the age of three trains a person, but no matter how many years she performed the uncomfortable swell and sickness in her gut would never go away.

The show had started, and after a month of practice and many more planning, it all could have been for nothing. Because it could close the very night it opened.

The opening scene was simple, but beautiful. A riddled by cancer and dying Margot Fonteyn, played by Margot's old acquaintance Nadia Nerina, made her way onto stage watching her younger self at the ballet barre. A single spotlight shone down on little Emily Valois, who was playing the young dame, as she did a simple battement combination.

"Nervous?"

Jaclyn slumped into Thomas's side eyes sliding up to his telling him everything. Nerves were normal, they could actually be good. It was a sign she truly cared, and the adrenaline would push her through.

"I wonder if she knows," Jaclyn found herself mumbling. The late primas soul might as well have been linked with hers now after the practice and research she put in. The beautiful dancer was more than that, she suffered in life greatly, and Jaclyn couldn't help but wonder if she saw them. If she got to see that she would always be remembered.

Thomas grasped her hand in his, "I'm not sure, but I think she would be proud of you."

"How do you think we'll be remembered?" She asked, awkwardly adjusting the black wig.

"As the greatest dancers of our generation." He didn't even stop to think.

Before she could respond the young and old Margot's started to circle each other, and that was her cue to go. With the orchestra riffing Jaclyn set herself up on stage, and when the crash symbols clashed a single spotlight turned to her. Her fellow dancers were staring but now so was the sold out audience.

She wore a pristine white tutu representing the virginal image the ballet world forced on Margot and her own naivety. A man, that man being Constant Lambert, the music composer who conducted an affair with Margot from the age of sixteen made his way to the piano on stage.

Emily ran from the stage fearfully, and as the piano music started Jaclyn started dancing. She placed her heart on her sleeve and determination in her eyes as she sprung into a light and almost joyous dance. Which contradicted greatly with Nadia's look of horror who ran to the piano and silently begged the music to stop.

She knew what would happen.

Jaclyn couldn't look sorrowfully down at the woman, she had to turn with a bright smile and flurries of her hands that always brought smiles to the audiences back in the day. She waltzed across the floor, and around the piano, showering Constant with smiles that dimmed the world, but he never looked up.

Her arms told stories as she leaped, and Jaclyn aches in pure joy because it was fun.

Dance had been in Margot's blood.

And now dance was in hers.

And when she struck her final pose she did not curtsy for the audience. She ran straight to the piano a bright and hopeful light in her as she sat next to Constant. He had been the great love of Margot's life, and in this moment, for this audience he was Jaclyn's great love as well.

He only slammed the piano shut standing and exiting so quickly that Jaclyn fell from the bench. Suddenly she was curling in on herself, an all too familiar feeling, and for the first time Nadia and her made eye contact.

It didn't last long because two men stormed on stage, the company's directors, and forced her to stand. Forced her to dance.

She did so robotically, until one pantomimed to smile. Then she smiled forcefully because there was always an image to uphold for Margot.