Kissing the Ballerina

Kissing the Ballerina

last updateLast Updated : 2020-11-04
By:  Elizabeth UkehOngoing
Language: English
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Synopsis

Gigi is an awesome ballerina who has been in-love with a dashing male ballet dancer named Adam for as long as she can remember. When it seems that fate is finally uniting them, Gigi gets her heart brutally crushed as her crush falls for her best friend.When she meets Malik, she immediately falls for his good looks especially his captivating amber eyes. While she thinks it is nothing more than a crush, Malik is convinced that they are meant to be. Slowly, their romance starts to kindle and Gigi falls head over heels. But things are getting rocky for the couple as her ex-bestfriend, Cleo becomes her rival and Adam is asking for a second chance. How will she get herself untangled from the love triangle? Will she and Cleo ever patch things up?

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Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter One.

My whole life I wanted to be a ballerina.

   It wasn’t some childhood fascination like the ones my peers had. They wanted to be doctors and engineers because their parents had gushed about how important these occupations were to human‒kind. I wanted to be a ballerina because I was born to be one. At least that was what my Dad told me.

    “You have a ballerina’s feet,” he said to me, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. That was ten years ago when I was just shy of nine. My Dad was a good judge of a ballerina’s feet after being married to a prima ballerina.

   He got me enrolled in a ballet school where I spent my afternoons and my weekends. The Apex Ballet School became my home and my Dad became my biggest cheerleader.

    I was enrolled late compared to other dancers whom were enrolled before their fifth birthday but Dad knew that I would outshine them all. And I did. Everyone loved me—the headmaster of the school, the tutors, the senior ballerinas and especially the audience.

   My mates were not too fond of me; I could smell the putrid odour of hatred that clung to their skin. But I paid them no attention; I kept my head up and let the music possess me.

 

Now, ten years later, I am standing next to my best friend—Cleo—and waiting for my name to be called out for the role of my dreams—The Sugarplum Fairy. I know the role is mine; I was born to dance The Sugarplum Fairy on a magnificent stage to the awe of the adoring audience. I can envision myself, elegant and full of poise on the stage and in the strong arms of The Nutcracker Prince who will be danced by the most brilliant, charming and sought-after male dancer in ABS—Adam Adie.

   Adam has been my crush since I was a petite rat, aweing our tutors with my precise pointe while my mates were still on demi­­­­‒pointe. I am not the only ballerina under the spell of Adam Adie, every red‒blooded female in our school swoon at the mere sight of him (including our tutors).

   Adam and the other male ballet dancers are standing opposite us, the females. Their eyes hover above our heads, too tense and nervous to make flirty eye contact but Adam’s deep brown eyes dart to mine. I turn my eyes away, embarrassed that I was caught staring at his defined arms and taut torso.

  

Heat creeps up my neck and flows into my cheeks. My palms become sweaty and I am attacked by the sudden and urgent urge to pee. My heart is beating stealthily against my ribcage, it threatens to break free. Am I shy because Adam caught me staring or is it the sudden thought that I might not be casted as the Sugarplum Fairy? I push the ugly thought aside: the role belongs to me. Ms. Azizen knows that I was destined for the role. She watched me spend painful hours dancing the routine over and over again. My pointes were graceful and my arabesques were a dream. I was light and luminous.

   Cleo’s hand slips into mine as she leans in to whisper, “Are you okay? You are hyperventilating.”

   I nod, unable to open my dry mouth and push words out of it. She gives my hand a strong squeeze and flashes me one of her gorgeous pearly white grins. Cleo is one of the most beautiful girls in our form. She has the ideal ballerina body: long and slender limbs, svelte torso, swan‒like neck and graceful posture. When she is in leotards and ballet shoes, you appreciate the careful work of art that she is. Ms. Azizen comments again and again on how Cleo becomes the dance.

   In my humble opinion, Cleo is most beautiful when she is out of leotards or tutus. She looks better when she is wearing and oversized T-shirt and bum shorts. When her heart shaped face is free of the mask of makeup and her dark, curly, shoulder‒length hair is framing her face.

   Cleo and I became inseparable after my first casting when we were still petite rats. I was backstage, cuddling a big bouquet of roses with confetti in my hair and my shoulders after receiving my first standing ovation. My Dad was clicking photos of me in his camera, beaming as he said, “Say cheese!” when Cleo ran to my side and held my hand like we were best friends. Dad did not see it as unusual; he thought that Cleo and I were friends.

   “Will you teach me to dance like you?” she asked, her lower lip jutted out and her big eyes blinking. And I did. Soon, her leaps became as high as mine and we became the powerful duo, Gigi and Cleo. Cleo and Gigi.

   Ms. Azizen walks in between the walls of female and male ballet dancers. Her back is straight and her lips are a hard, thin line as she gives the usual speech before announcing the castings. “. . . all of you have worked hard these past weeks, making the decisions were even tougher than usual. There was unsuspecting competition but only the best will be chosen.”

   I might be imagining things but I think her eyes flickered to me and rested on my face for a bit longer than necessary. My heart does a leap for joy in the cavity of my chest and I let myself smile for the first time in weeks.

   I feel someone’s intense stare on my face and this time, it was Adam’s turn to look away. Was he staring at me? I wonder. Is he blushing? I watch him for a few seconds and he seems to be avoiding my eyes. So he was staring at me! And he seems shy that I caught him.

   “And the Sugarplum Fairy will be danced by Cleo Beshel!”

    My heart stops beating.

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16 Chapters
CHAPTER ONE
 Chapter One. My whole life I wanted to be a ballerina.    It wasn’t some childhood fascination like the ones my pee
last updateLast Updated : 2020-11-04
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CHAPTER TWO
Chapter TwoI lean over the toilet, expelling the minute contents of my stomach. Hot tears sting my tears as they rolled down my cheeks and into my mouth. I barely made it out of the hall before crumbling into a mess of hot tears and choking sobs on the floor. I forced myself to hug Cleo congratulations before making my getaway. Hopefully, she will be too busy getting congratulated to look for me. I do not want her to see me in the pitiful state that I am.    I cannot believe that I am casted as the understudy of the Sugarplum
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CHAPTER THREE
Chapter Three    “Gigi.” I twirl to meet Adam’s mesmerising eyes. The corner of his lip hikes up in something that resembles a smile and a smirk at the same time.    I hear Cleo gasp from beside me. I am more shocked than she is.
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CHAPTER FOUR
Chapter Four       Dad is already waiting for me when I arrive at the reception.     He is wearing his oversized sweater, the one that is older than me—way older than me. The sweater was a gift from my mother when they were still a hormonal teenage couple. It is funny how big the sweater is on him now, after so many years and weight gain. I wonder how big it was on him when he was ninet
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CHAPTER FIVE
Chapter Five  The next day, after nine hours of much needed sleep, I coax myself from bed and take a shower. Then I stretch on the barre until my muscles scream in agony.        The bedroom I now call my own belonged to my Mum. Dad insisted I have it because it was built for a ballerina. Her pic
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CHAPTER SIX
Chapter SixOn Sunday, after Dad and I attend Mass, he drops me off at school with a cheery wave.      I feel like I have gained five pounds just spending two days with my father. I tried to purge whatever I could but still, I feel the greasy fat layering itself on my hips, stomach and thighs.     I change into my pastel yellow leotards, pal
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Chapter Seven  On Monday, I only spend ten minutes with Cleo. Every time I try to talk to her, she is obsessing about the dancer on Friday night.       After lunch, I catch her slipping on her pointe shoes in her bedroom.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
 Chapter Eight On Wednesday, after breakfast and classes, I go to the studio to dance. I cannot afford to give Ms. Azizen the pleasure to yell at me once again.
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CHAPTER NINE
Chapter NineSomeone calls out from behind me. I duck into the shelter of a store, standing in front of the door. A figure jogs up to me. I can tell that it is a male. Broad shoulders, long legs and lean built. The figure ducks into the shelter and lets down his shield of umbrella.    When he looks up at me, the first things I see are his amber eyes. They glint and gleam under the light like the jewels they are named after. I want to open my mouth
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CHAPTER TEN
Chapter TenFinally, it is Friday. The air in the whole school is charged by anticipation and excitement. Even though the show is later on in the day, nobody seems to be calm in the refectory.     I toss the contents of my sandwich on my plate with my fingers. Cleo is nowhere to be found and Adam does not seem to be at his usual table. That means that they are off together practising. Suddenly, I lose the miniscule appetite I had worked up. I
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