did it was usually a friend or brother of a fellow
dancer. But none of them stuck for more than one or two dates. I told myself it
was because dance took everything I had so I could not commit to a
relationship. Dante was the only one I’d ever told about Shelly and Maze so he
understood. Surprisingly, he was the one that encouraged me to really connect
first with someone, instead of just jumping into bed with a stranger or anyone
who didn’t rattle my cage.
He sat on the chair beside me
and wrapped his arm around me. His long blond hair hung loose around his
shoulders. When he danced it was pulled back into a queue. Tonight he was ready
to party.
“Come on girl. None of that.
You’ve been down lately, but the show’s over. We did a fantastic job. Now we
have a bit of a break for the next couple of weeks before rehearsals begin
again. Just classes a few hours a day. Now it’s time to party.”
Dante and I were the couple
most often paired because we danced beautifully together. He knew exactly how
to catch and hold me, how to make my body move for him. We’d even choreographed
a few of the modern ballet pieces, lots of difficult leaps and lifts. Videos of
our press lifts are used as examples in other companies and studios. We’d even
both been approached by other companies, trying to lure us away but we’d never
leave. Dante and I were happy where we were, although during downtime we had
begun choreographing more for others as a team and getting paid. Which was
pretty nice.
I sighed knowing Dante was
determined to get me out tonight. He’d been worried about me lately. I’d done
nothing but eat, sleep and dance. I hadn’t been on a date in a year or out with
him and our friends in a couple of months. I didn’t really understand the
restlessness in myself. It wasn’t like Shelly’s birthday or the day she died
was coming up. Usually I’d begin to get restless about that time. My friend
would have turned twenty-two this year, same as me. We’d have been able to
drink legally. Even though we never let our ages stop us. No, the sense of
restlessness I guess stemmed from something else I couldn’t define. Maybe from
loneliness, Dante had been dating regularly and while it was nice seeing him
with someone it reminded me of what I didn’t have. Perhaps he was right and I
needed to get out more, be open to meeting people.
“All right, I’ll go. Let me
finish changing.”
“Cool. I’ll be right back,
let me go hurry Christy and Bloom and whoever else is going along.”
He left and I finished
changing. As the lead ballerina I had my own small, emphasis on small, dressing
room. The core dancers all changed in two main dressing rooms, the guys had
their own. I was glad after I got dressed that I agreed to go out with Dante
and our other friends. I’d just grabbed my bag when Dante walked back through
the door. The man did not knock, no one did around here. At times when dancers
had to do quick changes, getting in and out of costumes in sixty seconds
backstage, stripping was just not that big a deal. You had no time to glance
around you to see who might or might not be looking. In truth, no one was. But
dancers had to learn sometimes to change around the opposite sex and after
awhile you became numb to it.
“Ready,” Christy asked,
walking in behind him. She held his hand. Dante and Christy ‘were testing’ each
other as Christy put it to me one day. They looked good together both blond
both beautiful. So far they’d been together going on two months now, a record
for Dante. I nodded and they turned around and we walked out.
“I called the limo around,”
Dante said. One of the perks being one of Dante’s friends, he came from money.
Lots and lots of it. He didn’t need a roommate, he simply wanted one. He didn’t
like the idea of living alone. When he’d decided he wanted to become a
professional ballerina, his parents got behind him. They’d always supported his
dancing. His mother had been a
dancer. But none of them stuck for more than one or two dates. I told myself it
was because dance took everything I had so I could not commit to a
relationship. Dante was the only one I’d ever told about Shelly and Maze so he
understood. Surprisingly, he was the one that encouraged me to really connect
first with someone, instead of just jumping into bed with a stranger or anyone
who didn’t rattle my cage.
He sat on the chair beside me
and wrapped his arm around me. His long blond hair hung loose around his
shoulders. When he danced it was pulled back into a queue. Tonight he was ready
to party.
“Come on girl. None of that.
You’ve been down lately, but the show’s over. We did a fantastic job. Now we
have a bit of a break for the next couple of weeks before rehearsals begin
again. Just classes a few hours a day. Now it’s time to party.”
Dante and I were the couple
most often paired because we danced beautifully together. He knew exactly how
to catch and hold me, how to make my body move for him. We’d even choreographed
a few of the modern ballet pieces, lots of difficult leaps and lifts. Videos of
our press lifts are used as examples in other companies and studios. We’d even
both been approached by other companies, trying to lure us away but we’d never
leave. Dante and I were happy where we were, although during downtime we had
begun choreographing more for others as a team and getting paid. Which was
pretty nice.
I sighed knowing Dante was
determined to get me out tonight. He’d been worried about me lately. I’d done
nothing but eat, sleep and dance. I hadn’t been on a date in a year or out with
him and our friends in a couple of months. I didn’t really understand the
restlessness in myself. It wasn’t like Shelly’s birthday or the day she died
was coming up. Usually I’d begin to get restless about that time. My friend
would have turned twenty-two this year, same as me. We’d have been able to
drink legally. Even though we never let our ages stop us. No, the sense of
restlessness I guess stemmed from something else I couldn’t define. Maybe from
loneliness, Dante had been dating regularly and while it was nice seeing him
with someone it reminded me of what I didn’t have. Perhaps he was right and I
needed to get out more, be open to meeting people.
“All right, I’ll go. Let me
finish changing.”
“Cool. I’ll be right back,
let me go hurry Christy and Bloom and whoever else is going along.”
He left and I finished
changing. As the lead ballerina I had my own small, emphasis on small, dressing
room. The core dancers all changed in two main dressing rooms, the guys had
their own. I was glad after I got dressed that I agreed to go out with Dante
and our other friends. I’d just grabbed my bag when Dante walked back through
the door. The man did not knock, no one did around here. At times when dancers
had to do quick changes, getting in and out of costumes in sixty seconds
backstage, stripping was just not that big a deal. You had no time to glance
around you to see who might or might not be looking. In truth, no one was. But
dancers had to learn sometimes to change around the opposite sex and after
awhile you became numb to it.
“Ready,” Christy asked,
walking in behind him. She held his hand. Dante and Christy ‘were testing’ each
other as Christy put it to me one day. They looked good together both blond
both beautiful. So far they’d been together going on two months now, a record
for Dante. I nodded and they turned around and we walked out.
“I called the limo around,”
Dante said. One of the perks being one of Dante’s friends, he came from money.
Lots and lots of it. He didn’t need a roommate, he simply wanted one. He didn’t
like the idea of living alone. When he’d decided he wanted to become a
professional ballerina, his parents got behind him. They’d always supported his
dancing. His mother had been a
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