The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Ready For More

November 6, 2001

In a performance there are more things to look at than just the dancers and their skills. There are backdrops to progress a story, lights that illuminate you, props and actors to fill the stage, and gorgeous costumes to hide behind.

Jaclyn took her place center stage with none of that.

The stage was bare, stripped clean of any refinery, and there she stood in a costume she pieced together herself. Eleven people occupied the empty orchestra pit, all with matching expressions of boredom.

In the seconds before her music started up until the opening notes her brief training flashed before her eyes.

The corrections, her progress, Madame's frowns that lifted with every passing day. Jaclyn could understand what was going on much better, she memorized The choreographers hand gestures to keep up with what was going on, and everyone noticed.

Her variation, The Queen of the Dryads, was something she knew like the back of her hand. It was gentle in appearance with elongated movements for her longer limbs. 

For two minutes, Jaclyn plowed through the movement, breathing as if she were walking. She held her attitudes, and slowed her arm movements to make her balances appear longer. She melted into each plié before extending her leg to her ear, and her exterior remained perfectly poised even as she huffed herself into the Italian fouettes.

As the dance came to a close not a soul clapped, but still Jaclyn smiled brightly, holding her ending pose until a tiny bell rang signalling she was done.

The next girl ran out, taking Jaclyn's place. The never ending cycle of the concours, or exams.

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November 6, 2001

The bar closest to the Opera House was packed. The tables had long been cleared to create a dance floor and now all the dancers, no matter what their title, were mixed on the floor dancing.

It wasn't a bar packed with strobe lights and pounding speakers. No, it was a small hole in the wall decorated with yellow tinted lights and polished wood accents that made it look like something out of a fairytale. There were different musicians taking turns playing jazz, classical, a mix of the two.

"This is my year," Ellie, one of the older soloists who had taken Jaclyn and Alice under her wings, declared throwing her head back downing a shot. Her words flew out in a flurry of french, and Jaclyn nodded swirling her own alcoholic drink. She hadn't touched it yet, her american upbringing was still scolding her for considering it since she was still days from being nineteen.

Alice shrugged, "I know I am not getting promoted." Her eyes dulled almost saying she didn't truly care, but that wasn't the case she was just being realistic.

"I just want to get in."

They both turned to Jaclyn, expressions equally filled with disbelief.

"Are you joking? Ellie scoffed.

"Sadly, ladies my lovely partner tends to forget her own talent." Jaclyn felt her teeth grind, her lips curling on each other to keep her immediate insults in.

"That's alright, do you not have enough ego for both of us?" Victor laughed in response placing his hands on her shoulders which she immediately swatted away. Over the months their partnering in class improved greatly, but outside the studio their relationship was still tattered. Alice, always with annoyance, would claim it was because of Jaclyn's stubbornness.

Like magnets his hands fell to her shoulders again. And again she brushed them away. "Do you not have anything better to do?"

"Clearly you don't want me around, Bo."