Chapter 50 Eyes on the Dancer
GENESIS'
"First position, second position… Stacy, leg down, not up—you're not trying to kick anyone," Miss Reneta said with a patient but firm tone.
The room giggled softly. Even I cracked a small smile.
Stacy rolled her eyes dramatically. Miss Reneta didn't notice, but Stacy did as she was told.
Miss Reneta clapped her hands twice. "Alright, everyone. Let's try that again, but this time with music."
As a soft piano melody filled the room, I tried to mimic the movements. Heels together. Toes pointed out. Arms curved like I was holding a giant invisible ball.
I moved slowly, cautiously, trying to remember everything she had taught us.
My body didn't feel graceful. My arms were stiff, my balance shaky. But I was trying. I wasn't going to give up.
"Good, Genesis," Miss Reneta said as she passed by, gently adjusting my elbow. "That's it. Nice control."
I blinked, surprised by the praise. My chest swelled just a little with pride.
Across the room, Calista caught my eye and gave me two enthusiastic thumbs up, her smile wide and warm.
For a while, everything else faded away…
My past.
Who I used to be.
It was just me and the music.
But soon, the session paused for a break.
Kieran had explained that ballet classes were held both in the morning and the afternoon. The morning sessions were for those who weren't in school. I had come in the afternoon today, since starting tomorrow, I'd be having tutoring classes every weekday.
Tutoring ended at three. Ballet ran from four to seven, but younger students left by six. When I arrived at three today, the classes had just started, and I'd been placed in the beginners' group.
At first, I thought it would feel odd to be a grown-up in a class full of little kids. But to my surprise, there were three other adults there too. That helped me relax.
Not that I had a problem with kids—they were adorable. And when Miss Reneta introduced me, they had all welcomed me with cheerful smiles and warm energy.
I felt... accepted.
"You did well today, even for a first-timer," said Stacy, one of the adult students. Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I glanced down at my feet in the pink ballet slippers I still couldn't stop staring at, then looked up at her with a shy smile.
Before I could reply, Calista flopped dramatically onto the floor beside us, breathing hard.
"Damn, that was way harder than I thought."
I turned toward her, and Stacy raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"How was that hard? That was just the basics. You wanna see hard? Come on."
She stood up abruptly, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me up with her. Then she gave Calista a playful nudge with her foot.
"Will you get up? Come see the pre-pros if you think that was tough."
She started dragging me toward a door at the far end of the studio—the one I had assumed led to the bathroom.
Pre-pros?
The moment Stacy pushed the door open, a wave of cold air brushed my face. But it wasn't the chill that shocked me.
It was the sight in front of me.
The room was enormous—easily twice the size of the one we'd just left. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined the walls. The glossy wooden floor gleamed under crisp, bright lights.
But what truly stole my breath… were the dancers.
They moved like liquid gold. Spinning. Leaping. Stretching their limbs with such precision and grace, it looked unreal.
Their legs extended impossibly high, arms slicing the air like silk ribbons. No hesitations. Only strength, sharp control, and raw beauty.
"Those," Stacy said proudly beside me, crossing her arms, "are the pre-pros. Pre-professionals. They train like it's their job. Some of them are already auditioning for real ballet companies."
Calista joined us, unusually quiet, eyes fixed on the dancers.
I couldn't look away.
A tall, lean boy with dark skin soared into the air and landed with a perfect turn, not even the slightest wobble. A girl beside him spun so fast and fluidly, it was like watching a bird take flight.
They weren't trying to be good. They were.
Every motion told a story.
My heart pounded—not from fear, but something deeper.
Longing.
I wanted to move like that.
"You keep showing up, and maybe one day you will," Stacy said, like she could read my thoughts. "Everyone starts at the beginning."
She nudged my arm gently. "But now you know what you're aiming for."
I nodded slowly, eyes still glued to the dancers.
Yeah. Now I know.
"But come on," she added, grinning. "Let's go in deeper and watch them properly. We're still on our break, anyway."
I nodded a little too eagerly. I wanted to watch. I wanted to soak it all in. I wanted to be part of it.
Calista sighed, already sounding annoyed. "Melani's just going to act all high and mighty again."
I turned to her, my curiosity obvious. She noticed.
She tilted her head to the left. "She's the slim girl being lifted by… Jaden." She said his name with a dreamy sigh that made me blink. Her face looked suspiciously like Daisy's whenever she spotted a chocolate bar.
Did she want to eat him too?
But I pushed the thought away, not really caring right now. I was too focused.
Melani twirled and twirled, so many times I lost count, and somehow didn't stumble or look dizzy. Jaden's hands were at her waist, guiding her like she weighed nothing. The way she landed—graceful, poise.
Then the music stopped. A tall man stepped forward—probably their instructor—and began giving notes.
My eyes drifted to Jaden again.
He was already looking at me.
My heart skipped. I froze, eyes wide, cheeks burning.
Did he think I was a creep? But everyone was watching, right?
"Come on, let's go over there," Stacy said, tugging me by the arm.
As I turned around, I felt something strange—like a prickling heat crawling up the back of my neck.