5:00. Ugh, time to start dancing today. At least I have less on my plate than in the past weeks. Can I just go back to Europe? Ugh, whatever. I grab my red hoodie and black leggings, along with my black sports bra, and put it on.
I take out my bun and put my falling hair in a high ponytail. This hairstyle shows a lot more of my missing hair, but it's not too noticeable. I put all my skin creams on and look at my makeup options. Of course, I should just do what I did yesterday. Continuity.
While the skin stuff is sinking in, I start to cover up my scars. God, yesterday went deep. I can almost see muscles and tendons. To be honest, I kind of enjoyed last night. The feeling of almost dying, while accidental, was exhilarating. I should strive for that more often.
After about five minutes of trying to cover my scars, all the ones that need to be covered are finally covered. My vein isn't showing through the makeup, so I draw out one with blue eyeshadow and almost smash with setting powder.
After putting on my makeup, and covering my cuts, I take my Fluoxetine and Cymbalta, heading to the main room. Today is a no-calorie day, and luckily, I don't have time for a full meal, so I grab my Ensure, my shoes, and dance supplies, heading out the door.
"We're taking Hannah and Ann, so watch for them in the lobby," Mom informs me as we enter the elevator.
As it turns out, Hannah and Ann pop in the elevator with us! I can see Hannah looks nervous. She's the leader of the group dance and she has a solo. We exit the elevator and into Mom's car, and she's shut down, not talking.
I keep my distance. I know how she feels. Scared, and not wanting to talk to anyone in fear that she'll sound stupid. She won't sound stupid to me, but I don't want to pressure her. I just listen to the music on my phone in the meantime, casually eavesdropping on Ann and Mom's conversation. It's all about Michelle and Sarah, however. Nothing interesting to my ears.
When we pull up, Hannah and me, our stomachs turn in anxiety. I feel like I could throw up. Everybody else's cars are here. Even Sarah's. We're almost late. I "chug" my Ensure in the parking and race inside, taking off my shoes. Luckily, the class hasn't started, so I get to sit in the dancer's den for a minute. Ms. Ann quickly pulls Hannah aside for a couple of minutes.
"Girls, Studio A!" Ms. Abby yells, and Hannah reemerges. Ann goes up to the viewing area.
Ms. Abby is in the corner, and we all run over anxiously, all of us ready to start learning Stone Faced.
"All right guys, I want to go over this group dance. Stone. Faced. This piece is covering your true identity. You," Ms. Abby begins, pointing at Hannah, "are this sweet nice kid. I've come to get to know your mother a little bit better over the past few weeks, and I cannot imagine living in that house with that mother. She is on your back constantly. 'Hannah, don't do this. Hannah, do this. Hannah, I told you-- Hannah, Hannah, Hannah--' Ah! And yet you just smile and you're sweet and nice. We need to see something else other than sweet and kind and boring. Get it?"
"Yes," Hannah mutters.
"Let's get started here. So Brady, grab her by the hand. You're coaxing her out. You're trying to get her to break out of her shell," Ms. Abby instructs, starting to block the number.
It's getting harder to dance in these loose clothes. My sports bra has elastic, but it's close to falling off. My leggings are way too big. I think I need some safety pins or something. I think I have some in my dance bag.
This dance is very, flowy, kind of like the improv I did yesterday. I feel like liquid, which I guess is a nice contrast to stone.
"Lay flat Hannah. And go flick, flick, fwoosh," Ms. Gianna instructs, me stuck in the same position that's cramping up my foot.
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Une Fleure Fanée
Fanfiction***MATURE WARNING*** "The hunger is good. You had too many calories already. You're already fat." "They'll love you even more when you're skinny. You'll be their perfect little angel when you're nice and pretty." "Lilly, I heard you puking up the c...
