The Ballerina who wishes to aim for the Stars | Volume 1

After the rain...

"-I can't take it anymore, can we stop here?"

Selene slumped on one of the armchairs, exhausted by her "theater" session. The costumes did the same, a little distraught.

" -I am a lost cause, you can see that I am incapable of imitating the femme fatale.
-I'm sure if you had more willpower and confidence, you'd do better.
-I especially don't feel like it anymore Plumy..."

The ballerina admitted defeat. She had lost taste for dancing. She stood up, her face plunged in her hands and said with pity.

"-Maestro Lance was right..."

Nutcracker let out a cry of displeasure, hand on his sword.

"-You let Lance enter our scene!?
-Yes, so what? It went very well."

Castafiore couldn't help but give a victorious smile, which irritated the wooden puppet even more. He was definitely not able to frame this damn Maestro. To tell the truth, the other costumes were also in the background, too afraid.

This moment was one of the rare ones when Selene had the audacity to raise her voice, displeased.

"I don't care what you think. I don't know what you wanted to tell me with your stories of 'demons' or 'cursed Maestro'. I had a great time with him, it hadn't happened in...Too long, so don't count on me to follow you in your paranoia."

And on her words she left her stage, with a quick and sure step.

" -Are you proud of yourself now?" Retorted Castafiore, under the ashamed looks of her fellow beings.

*

**

Selene had left her stage and was now outside, under a heavy rain. Fortunately for her, she had been able to conjure up an umbrella and take shelter under it. She breathed in as much fresh air as possible, hoping that it would calm her down a bit.

She didn't like to get upset, especially since it was unnecessary, but she couldn't help it. She didn't understand why her friends were reacting this way to Lance, especially since Balan had never reacted this way to Lance. She was frustrated that the Cast-Member did not see what she saw. In addition, her worries about dancing and Odile had not helped her mood at all. She felt stupid for getting carried away so quickly.

The ballerina shook her head, it was useless to dwell on these trivialities. Since she was out, she might as well go to Tim's Island. She knew Cotton was there and couldn't help but worry about the weather.

She walked lightly, letting the wind carry her. Sometimes she spun around as if she were dancing. Selene often moved like this when she was alone.

When she finally arrived on the Isle of Tims, she expected the little ones to be sheltered. But rain or shine, they were still having fun like children.

It was fun.

She finally found Cotton in the distance, on a trampoline, playing with a little red Tim. She smiled, glad he was okay and having fun.

She stood still for a few minutes, listening to the soothing sound of the rain falling and the breeze brushing against her frail skin.

But this moment of "meditation" was interrupted by a sweet voice she recognized all too well:

"-Please, fly to me, you know I can't touch you with my hands, my little one."

Selene searched everywhere for the origin of the voice and rushed in the direction of it. When she saw Lance a little further away, she couldn't help but rush towards him, eyes sparkling and a smile on her face.