dancing queen ❦ british royal family

❦ ONE: Unlikely Places

In a surprising turn of events I have decided to write a British Royal Family Fanfiction. 
It's different to what I usually write and (as you could probably have garnered from the description) not accurate to real life events.
I don't know the Royal Family personally and all of this is basically just a freely interpreted form of how *I* view them/imagine them. 

Please let me know what you think about this in the comments - I love feedback!

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"God, I am so ready for this season to be over," Isabella groaned next to Claire as they were stretching at the Barre, preparing for their final night of dancing for the 2017 summer season of the Royal Opera House. Claire chuckled at her friends' antics. "To be fair, I am looking forward to a break as well," she admitted. "You're going to build a school. I don't know how big of a break that is." "I'll only be in Kenya for four weeks," Claire told her, "After that, I'm joining my parents in France." "Where you'll prepare for several booked appearances," Isabella interjected, "Like...you never take a break." "It's a short career," Claire shrugged, "Gotta make the most of it." "Please," Isabella rolled her eyes, "You're twenty-three and one of the youngest principal dancers, if not the youngest, this company has ever seen. Not to mention you got that spot when you were nineteen."

Claire only looked down with a sigh, concentrating on stretching further.

Her insanely fast promotion to the rank of a principal dancer - the highest in the company - had always been a sore subject among her colleagues. Unlike her fellow colleagues, Claire's first promotion from the Corps de Ballet came in her second season, as she was promoted to First Artist before; only a year later, at nineteen, the company promoted her to Principal Dancer, skipping several ranks in between. It had been unheard of to promote a young dancer so fast, and although critics and experts had done nothing but praise both Claire and the Royal Ballet, some colleagues have never treated Claire the same ever since.

"Oh, come on, Claire," Isabella said, "you know that's not what I meant." "It's fine," Claire sighed, turning sideways to start some développés. "I'm just saying," Isabella continued, "You've made your mark in the ballet world. You've danced roles some dancers dream of for their entire careers. You're constantly praised by critics. You have so many awards and accolades, not to mention that you have had several pieces choreographed onto you." "Can we please not?" Claire asked, "I just...want to dance tonight and then focus on helping out in Kenya." "Goody two shoes," Isabella laughed before focusing on herself.

Claire loved her job and most of her colleagues - she truly did. Isabella was one of her closest friends, the Spanish woman having graduated from the Royal Ballet School only two years before she did. But no matter how close the two of them were, even she couldn't hide the envy she felt because of Claire's success. None of them really could, and Claire hated it. She supposed it was the nature of their profession; thousands upon thousands yearned for a professional contract each and every year, and the very few that did get them longed for more exposure and promotions. From the second you become a professional student to pretty much the moment you retire, it was nothing but boxing yourself through the crowd, hoping to be 'the one'. Claire had always been a star in her own right; Her mother had signed her up for classes very early when she was only three years old, and her teachers then had already seen something in her and pushed her to be the best. She became a Junior Associate at the Royal Ballet School at eight years old, where every Saturday, the professional teachers had told her parents the same thing: "She's principal material."