Balancing Love ☞︎ A Jesse St. James fan fic

I Must Be Magic If This Toe-Rag Can Learn To Like Me...

A week and a half had gone by and things were already starting to get back to normal. Except for the fact that I was making real friends, Madame was appreciating me more, and I had more free time to do things. What was going back to normal was the fact that I had started to regularly dance again.

My passion for it being refueled by anger and drama... and hurt. It was helping my choreo a ton! When in correlation to other things... not so much help.

Madame had agreed to take the day off as we both deserved some time away from the studio. I wanted to take the time off. Really, I did! But the emotions inside of me were overflowing and I needed to do something to release it and I didn't think forming an alcohol addiction was going to be better for me in the long run.

I did allow myself to sleep in, starting school a lot later than I usually did, and finishing it up for the day a lot later than I usually did. Afterwords it was around five. I was itching to dance and I knew I needed to get to the studio. Who eats dinner at 5 anymore anyway?

I quickly get my stuff ready and make my way out of the house.

"Where you heading to?" My dad asks as I pass him through the living room.

"Studio. Need to dance alone for a bit." I say over my shoulder, making sure he knew I didn't want this to end up as a class. He chuckles a bit as I unlock the door and open it.

"Alright, I get it. Stay safe!" He shouts out as I close the door behind me.

My leg was bouncing as I drove over to the studio. The one that wasn't on the gas pedal, anyway. Getting the studio, I change in the empty and quiet locker room. I Hurriedly head over into the studio with a wide smile. I like practicing the most when I'm alone. More serene. I can loose myself more.

I look over the room and smile even wider to myself. I was really happy right now. I head to the laptop and hit shuffle on the classic music. It didn't matter what I stretched to.

As I stretched, I looked over my new piece I was working on. I had been working on it all summer, despite not physically dancing. I just couldn't get it right. It was an interpretive dance, but I wanted it to be clear what needed to be said. If you could guess, the dance was about my heartbreak and the anger, sadness, jealousy, and hurt I felt through the whole thing. The more I realized how the dance looked, the more I felt pathetic. But it was a dance to release my emotions and hopefully move on from Jesse.

I was without my model today as one, I really needed to dance and two, I couldn't use that thing right now...

I finish stretching and move over to the laptop and pick the song chosen for the piece. I quickly raced to the middle of the floor. The dramatic music started and the intensity started within my moves. I moved and spun with sharpness and grace. I lost myself as usual within the tempo, the pitch, and the notes the beautiful instruments played.

I finish the dance on the ground, my limbs splayed out around me in a mess that was currently how I felt. I let myself breath heavily for it was just that type of dance. My chest rose quickly before deflating.

"Wow." I whispered to myself. This was probably the most emotionally powerful piece I've ever written, while at the same time it was incredibly emotionally draining. Balance.

I try and force myself to get up off the floor. But it seems I was unable. So instead of going to my notebook, I note everything perfectly right and shamefully wrong with the dance. I start thinking of ways to make it better. This always happened... just when I thought it was perfect, my mind always wanted to change it. Maybe because even though that's how the situation was, it didn't feel right.