Chapter 14: Penny
The hours bleed together In a bit of soft whispers and muted footsteps, of muted stretches and murmured encouragements, the waiting room shrinking smaller with every name called, with every girl who leaves and doesn’t come back,
I stay folded into my stretches, muscles trembling from holding the same positions too long, heart thudding slow and heavy in my chest, trying to focus, trying to stay sharp, even as the sun creeps lower through the high windows, staining the far wall with the deep gold of late afternoon
Mila hasn’t come back yet.
No one has
Just an endless parade of names–called, answered, gone.
And still, mine isn’t one of them.
1 flex my
y toes against the floor, feeling the ache start to build along the arch of my foot, pressing my palms flat against the cold wood, breathing deep through the tightness in my ribs,
It’s fine.
It’s probably random.
It doesn’t mean anything that half the girls are gone and I’m still here, waiting, stretching, pretending I don’t feel like the room is pressing in closer with every second.
But somewhere deep in my chest, a tiny, insistent worry scrapes at the edges of my thoughts.
What if Madame forgot to sign me up?
hat if there was a
What
mistake?
What if my name isn’t even on the list?
1 bite the inside of my cheek, tasting copper, and force the thought away.
I didn’t come this far to spiral now.
There are three of us left in the room–three girls sitting in our own little islands of tension, stretching and adjusting pointe shoes and pretending not to glance at the door every time it creaks open.
I shift into another stretch, feeling my hip protest sharply, and glance toward the window, watching the sun sink lower, casting longer, heavier shadows across the floor.
And then the door opens again,
And this time, I hear it-
*Penelope Vale?”
My heart jumps so fast it’s almost painful, slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.
I get to my feet too fast, stumbling slightly, my bag sliding off my knees and thudding onto the floor.
“Here, I say, my voice a little too loud, a little too breathless.
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Chapter 14: Penny
I
The volunteer sailles gently, stepping aside to hold the door open, and i gras my water bottle, ty phone, my number pinned to step through into the long, echoing hallway beyond
The sound of my pointe shoes tapping against the tile echoes around me, I loud, too sharp, and I try to heath through it, try to let de rhythm settle into something steady, something familiar.
The hallway stretches on forever, a gauntlet of framed posters and faded photographi, an the audition hall wait, just slightly zist, a diver of light culling across the floor,
far end, the heavy double doors that
I push them open and step into the cavernous space beyond, blinking against the sudden frightness.
The stage is massive–larger than any I’ve danced on before–stretching out under the high, vaulted ceiling, the polished floor gleaming under the rows of overhead lights.
And at the far end, seated at a long table draped in black cloth, the judges wait.
Five of them.
Faces impassive.
Pens poised.
Eyes sharp and unblinking.
I walk to the center of the stage, heart hammering so hard it feels like it might crack my ribs, and take my position, hands trembling slightly as 1 raise them into first position.
The music starts–a soft swell of strings, delicate and haunting–and my body moves before I can think, before I can panic, before the fear can root itself too deeply.
I dance.
I pour everything into it–the hours, the bruises, the blisters, the tears.
Every breath, every heartbeat, every fragment of who I am.
I let the music guide me, carrying me through the opening steps, the sweep of my arms, the sharp, clean extension of my legs, the lift of my chest as I leap, as 1 spin, as I lose myself in the story.
My muscles burn, screaming in protest with every landing, every rise onto pointe, but I push through it, breathing through the fire, through the
ache.
The judges don’t speak.
They don’t move.
They just watch, pens scratching faintly against paper, eyes flicking over every line, every angle.
I push harder.
Stronger.
The final crescendo of the music swelly, and I rise into my last sequence, legs slicing through the air, arms arcing high and proud, the final turn pulling everything tight and clean and perfect.
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Chapter 14: Penny
I land in my final
leg extended behind me, chest lifted, arms cursed elegantly overhead, and hold it.
My chest heaves with the effort, the fe in my muscles burning so hot it feels like my skin might split open, but I stay there, frozen, a stalije
of blood and bone and willpower.
When the last note fades into silence, I lower my arms shinsly, the world rushing back in around me, the sound of my own breathing food in my
I turn toward the judges, heart still hammering, and for the first time since I walked in, I see it.
Tiny smiles.
Subtle.
But there.
And they
y weren’t there before.
Relief floods through me so fast and so fierce 1 almost sway on my feet, but I catch myself, pulling my shoulders back, lifting my chin.
I did it.
| did everything I could,
I bow, deep and graceful, and murmur, “Thank you, my voice steady even though my legs feel like they might give out any second.
They nod, their pens still moving, and the volunteer gestures toward the side door.
I walk offstage, my steps slow, deliberate, my heart floating somewhere above my head.
The moment the door swings shut behind me, I let out a breath i didn’t realize 1 was holding, pressing my hand flat against the cool metal, my eyes stinging with the force of it all.
I did it.
I really did it.
And no
no matter what happens next–whether I make it or not–I know, deep in my bones, that I gave it everything I had.
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