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Black & White

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111 Reviews

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Reviews: 111
Mon Jul 02, 2018 3:42 am
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Carina says...

written by: @Carina and @bluewaterlily

Ten years have passed since Ciara and Claire have gone their separate ways, and although they were the best of friends, much has changed between them. For unknown reasons, fun and spontaneous Ciara became secretive and serious, and shy and meek Claire became warm and bubbly. They immediately clashed with one another while playing the opposite roles in the legendary Swan Lake ballet, but as they danced, they learned to trust one another, accept change, and overcome their past.
"I theorize anything you write anywhere on any domain is automatically marked as spam by the internet overlords." —Veeren
"OMG" —BrumalHunter
"Are you just gonna keep adding quotes in your signature?" —Omnom

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111 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 5921
Reviews: 111
Tue Jul 03, 2018 2:37 am
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Carina says...

Ciara took a deep breath, staring down the door in front of her. She remembered approaching this door last month, but she remembered it being more daunting than this. What used to be lines of people with black tutus in the hall was now empty with air, and the vibrations and buzzing of people moving and practicing was now still with silence. This door seemed to taunt her, looming in her face, telling her she made it this far, beckoning her to come and fill the silence in the room beyond, but still seemed so empty.

She looked at her watch. Exactly noon, just like the director told her. Pushing away all the "What if..?" and "What am I doing here?" thoughts away, Ciara pushed the door open and was enveloped with lights and—

"Ah, and here she is, our Odile, our enigmatic black swan!" the person Ciara recognized as the director exclaimed. "If you'd have seen her on her audition, you'll all understand why I had to hire someone from the outside."

The director continued to chatter about how the rest of his crew can learn a thing or two from Ciara, but Ciara wasn't paying attention; she was too busy sauntering forward while eyeing all the dancers whose eyes were meeting hers, feeling her heart beat like drums against her skin.

She heard a rumor that she was here.

Ciara glossed over many of the dancers with a mere glance, noticing that most of them were wearing a quizzical or bored look dressed in their leotards. And then...she saw her.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" the director called out to her, piercing her thoughts, but not her gaze.

"My name is Ciara," she said slowly and flatly, making eye contact with her the whole time and seeing her eyes widen and jaw drop from surprise.
"I theorize anything you write anywhere on any domain is automatically marked as spam by the internet overlords." —Veeren
"OMG" —BrumalHunter
"Are you just gonna keep adding quotes in your signature?" —Omnom

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108 Reviews

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Sat Jul 07, 2018 9:21 am
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bluewaterlily says...

Claire felt a jolt of shock rip through her body. She took a deep shuddering breath, trying to reign in her emotions, but she was sure a wave of expressions rippled across her face. Shock, unease, indignation, and underneath it all: fury. Of all the girls he could have chosen, it had to be her. It was just like him to pluck up new girls as if they were flowers, giving them offers they couldn’t refuse.

She shook her head, straightening her spine, meeting Ciaria’s flinty stare. For a tense moment the air remained taut with tension. The other dancers offered half hearted greetings, their reception lukewarm. But Ciara didn’t seem to notice or care. Her eyes held Claire’s gaze the whole time.

The director’s voice broke through the tense silence. “I have no doubt you’ll all make our newest member of the company feel welcome.”

“Of course,” Amy, a member of the corps ballet said, offering a smile at the director, her eyes hooded. With ambitions to one day be a principal dancer, Amy like almost everyone in the company was eager to please. She had a lot to prove, but then again, so did everyone. Proving wasn’t enough. Neither was pleasing the director. He had to notice you. And clearly he’d noticed Ciara.

The director’s gaze flitted to Amy, barely noticing her, before passing over each dancer. His gaze lingered on Claire a moment.

“Good.” The director nodded. He’d heard what he wanted. Walking past Amy, he said, “Warm up, everyone.”

They lined up at the barre.

As Claire took her position the director said, “Not you, Claire.”

“I want you to personally meet our black swan.”

Claire took a deep breath, composing herself, as she walked over to where Ciara stood. Claire tried to read Ciaria’s face but she was well composed, expression unyielding and eyes hard.

“We’ve already met,” Claire said.

Surprise flickered across the director’s face and he looked to Ciaria in question. “But you just got in town a few hours ago....”

“We grew up together.” Claire suppressed a grim smile. That was one way of putting it. They hadn’t just grown up together. They’d been best friends, practically inseparable. Ciara had been her sole childhood friend until high school when they’d both started to diverge from each other. But Claire imagined the relationship she’d had with Ciara was akin to the same kind of closeness twins shared.

“Small world,” said softly, eyes suddenly thoughtful.

Small world indeed.

“You can both warm up now.”

Claire turned and walked to the barre but stopped as the director made a suggestion.

“Ciara, you can watch Claire dance to get a feel of her character so you can mimic sensually. That’s the only thing you’re missing.”

After Claire had sufficiently warmed up, the dancers lined up along the perimeter of the room and sat to watch, knees drawn to their chests. The director turned to the pianist who sat tucked away in the corner of the studio, ready to play at a moment’s notice.

“Lauren, Odile’s Coda, please.”

Frenzied music began to fill the room, and Claire rose en pointe. As the music swelled, she revolved in a series of fouettes. Turning on her right leg, which maintained constant contact with the floor, Claire swept her left leg across in front of her in a whiplash motion, propelling her into pirouettes.

As soon as the music began, the world fell away. It was just her and the music. Dancing a coda was a private, intimate affair. As soon as the spotlight beamed down on her, any trace of nervousness she felt dissipated, displaced instead by triumph, waves of exhilaration swooping through her. Claire imagined that this must be what Odile felt like. This must be what flying felt like. She felt like a planet orbiting in the center of her own galaxy among a sea of stars.

Claire came to a stop with the music. The rest of class passed in a blur. She hoped to gather her bag adn discreetly slip through the throng of dancers, but before we could even move from her bar, Claire blocked Caira's path

Ciara let out a sharp breath, meeting Ckaire’s gaze.

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing I want to say to you.”

Claire smiled joylessly. “Then I guess it's your lucky day because I have a lot to say, and you’re gonna listen to all of it.”

Ciara gritted her teeth, hoisting her bag up. “Where are we going?”

Ciara grinned, the edges of her plump lips sharp with a sensual quality that made it easy to imagine her as Odile. “I know the perfect bar.”

Ciara rolled her eyes. “I thought stiffs like you don't drink.”

Claire unfazed turned, not waiting for her to follow. “Even stiffs know how to let loose.”

Ciaria finally smiled, eyes dangerous, the corners of her lips sharp as glass. "I gotta see this."
"A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." - W.H. Auden

Opportunity does not knock, it presents itself when you beat down the door.
— Kyle Chandler