𝟢𝟢𝟩,𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝

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SEVEN

I decide to practice ballet on Sunday. Sonya has her friend, Brenda, sleeping over and Mom didn't mind bringing me to Sports before she did the groceries, so here I am, all alone in the attic.

Well, it's not really like an attic. If I look up at the ceiling it is, yes, but the walls and mirrors are neat and no dust bothers me anywhere.

I copy the moves Clara does in the play, but can't help to practice a bit for Sugarplum Fairy, because that role is also amazing. All the roles are cool.

But it's always Clara that I want. Not only because she's the lead. I'd say she... relates the most to me, in some way?

Someone enters the attic. I don't stop dancing, because they're allowed in here and I'm almost finished anyway.

I see my reflection in the mirror, then of whoever entered. It's Janson. And something about his presence reminds me of last Friday, so I automatically suck my stomach in.

"Looks great. Your moves are nice," he says.

My gaze softens. I finish the dance, then do my cool down routine as Janson is doing I don't even know what.

"Any tips?" I look up once I'm sitting in a split. "Do I need to eat lunch even earlier? Smoother movements? Are my shoes okay?"

"I think it's fine," he replies.

My eyes almost widen with panic. "It's fine." I swallow. "What can I do to make it better? I really want this part, sir. It would be good on my report for France. I want to—"

"Join the most famous ballet school in the world, I know." He straightens his back. "I think that instead of trying to exactly copy the role's movement, you have to focus on yourself. Don't forget about how it's originally done, but don't turn into a mannequin. You've got to amaze the crowd."

I nod, understanding.

"The rest.." His eyes trail over my body. "Just eight pounds off and the movements will go smoother. Not more, not less."

I nod again. "Okay. Thank you."

The difference between telling me to lose weight and telling me he can see my lunch is different. This doesn't hurt as much, because first of all, I asked for the advice, and he's saying it to help. And he might be right too. I'll feel more lightweight as I dance.

A few salads and runs isn't that hard to reach. I'll lose those eight pounds before the auditions even begin.

After calling Mom I'm done, she picks me up and we're driving back home.

"How'd it go?" Her voice is soft. "I know you've wanted to be Clara since you were young."

"It went great," I say. "I got some tips. I'll go practice the days I can and audition for her. Hopefully, I'm good enough."

"I'm sure you will be." She smiles at me. "And if you happen to not get the role... that's fine, too. Don't start overwhelming yourself, love."

"I won't," I promise.

"Ava called," she says. "To ask how you're doing on the new ballet school."

Ava is my old ballet teacher. Sweet woman. Maybe too sweet, because I feel like she wasn't always honest when she gave tips.

Man, I'm complicated to understand.

I like sweet people because I'm usually kind myself, but if I want tips I want the harsh, but honest ones.

𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 - TMR AU, ThomasWhere stories live. Discover now