The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Remembering Passion

June 27, 2007

Jaclyn bounced on her feet, her eyes flying around the open stadium anxiously trying to scout out the ragtag group she called her family. A stage wasn't unfamiliar to her, but it felt different. Larger than any theatre, open air breezing through, ninety thousand seats facing her, and not a single person there.

She looked around trying to find William or Harry, even Chelsy, Kate, and Charlie had disappeared to work on something behind the scenes. They had left her to her own mind.

She had been able to watch some of the performers practice, and hummed a familiar tune in her head as her feet started to move at their own free will.

"Ballerina, you must've seen her..." She hummed, sliding her feet over the stage while her arms arched up. No music, no sound but the whistle of the soft wind that howled above the stadium. "Hold me closer tiny dancer, count the headlights on the highway..."

Her voice stayed soft, but her steps got bolder, leg arching back in attitude reaching for her forehead. She leaped, rolling to the ground with the delicacy of a feather, and came back up with reaching arms that pulled from her shoulders creating a long line.

"Lay me down in sheets of linen, you had a busy day today..." Quickly her breath was running out, and she stopped her song and dance to bend over and catch her breath, smiling so easily it felt like something soon was about to go wrong.

"Well you can't sing, but William was right. You're a lovely dancer."

She jumped up, spine erect as the familiar voice washed over her. Kind eyes smiling through pink sparkly framed glasses, and a lavish suit to match.

"Oh my god," she gasped, hand covering her dropped jaw.

"I like you already," the stranger, who really wasn't a stranger laughed.

"You're Elton John," she whispered, hand not daring to move, and too blinded by her shock to be mortified of her behavior.

"And you're Jaclyn Webber," he added as if this wasn't supposed to be a big deal. As if they were somehow equals.

She jolted awkwardly as if aware she was hogging a stage she had no claim to, and started to back away. "I'm so sorry, I'm intruding on your stage time, I'll just-"

The man shrugged still looking upon her as if she was the most precious thing to ever grace his presence. "Why don't I do the singing for you, and you can stick to the dancing." Without saying anything else he sat down at the piano behind them waving off her protests.

The first note struck the air, and Jaclyn's limbs turned to stone. Petrified by the idea of how small she truly was. It wasn't the stage or the thousands of seats, but just a single man. A legend among the stars, and to that she was nothing.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he joked, repeating the note, "This isn't to perform, but just two artists sharing their passions."

But the intro trilled across the keys and soon he was singing, and Jaclyn's body didn't care like her mind did. Dance was apart of her, so at the chance she leaped for it. Once again the stage became hers, and with her movements she expanded it. If there was an audience even the people in the very back would've seen because she reached to them and danced for them.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer, count the headlights on the highway..." Elton sang the same part she did, but this time it sounded majestic. Rich and unlike anything else, so her steps had to equal that power.

It wasn't like the dancing she'd been doing recently where her body vibrated with muscle spasms, and her feet were beaten raw so she could barely stand. This was freeing.