Sugar Daddy Season (ONC 2024)

Chapter 1 ~ Worst Day Ever

                 When I was a little girl, my parents enrolled me in ballet classes, hoping it would draw me out of my shy little shell. Witnessing how graceful the instructors were as they floated across the hardwood floor, stretching their limbs with each movement, their muscles flexing and tensing, is what began my obsession. I was the little Latin girl with frizzy curls tied into a bun and a tutu smelling like the Menudo I had for dinner. 

But I didn’t care that the other girls would pinch their noses and laugh. When I was at the dance studio, I soared.

Plus, I wasn’t the only girl who smelled like dinner. I met my best friend Anika there, and we bonded over her smelling like whatever Indian dish her mother made that night.

As I got older, my obsession turned into determination to dance with the San Francisco Ballet Company, while Anika turned her sights toward medicine. 

However, today, as I sit here in a pair of pink tights, a black leotard, and point shoes that I just broke into, everything I’ve worked for has shattered in the utterance of a few words.

“But…” I take a moment to compose myself with a hard swallow, my eyes watering. “I just started. It’s only been three months, and you said I’m the best dancer you’ve seen in a while, and I could become a principal within a year if I work hard.”

“And all that is true, Mara,” my manager says.

Sniffling back snotty tears, I wipe my nose. “I’ll work harder. I’ll spend all of my free time practicing. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Please don’t fire me. I beg you.”

“We’re not firing you,” another person from the company says. “It’s a layoff due to budget cuts. Trust me when I say we didn’t want to do this. Unfortunately, you’re not the only one.”

“We’ve had to let thirty-nine other people go. Ten of them were dancers. Amazing dancers.”

This doesn’t comfort me at all. If this massive layoff is due to budget cuts, then it’s likely other ballet companies are having a hard time making ends meet, too. I refuse to wait tables again. I’ve worked too hard to achieve my dream.

“If you’d like, we can put a word for you at The American Ballet Company.”

My soft crying stops, and my gaze meets theirs. “That’s across the country. In New York.”

“And you’d make a great dancer there,” one of them says. “They would be lucky to have you.”

“I can’t move across the country.” I snatch the gym bag, resting on my sore feet. “You know my dad has Alzheimer’s. So there is no way I’m leaving the Bay Area.”

They all glance at one another, exchanging dialogue with their eyes as an awkward silence clings to the atmosphere like humidity, making me perspire. I bet they think I’m throwing my career away by not taking them up on their offer. 

“Thank you for these last three months.” I stand and step toward the door. “It was a dream come true, and I learned a lot.” 

“Mara,” my manager calls. “We truly believe you’re a beautiful dancer, and when things change, we’d like to invite you back.”

I swing around. “You mean that?”

“Yes.” They all nod.

“In the meantime, I’ll stay in touch,” my manager continues. “Perhaps there is a studio where we can put in a word for you.”

“I’d appreciate that.” I wipe my eyes as relief stretches across my face with a smile. “I’d appreciate that a lot.”

Leaving the building, I find the nearest cafe to buy a caramel latte to cheer myself up. The first sip starts my next chapter as an unemployed ballerina—hopefully a short chapter. While on the subway, I think of how I will break the news to Josh. We’ve been together for three years but have lived together for two, and we split everything. So, things will be tough for a while, but we’re a team, and we’ll get through it.