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OVER A YEAR LATER

MARIA

I had been there before.

It was Dream's production of the year—Swan Lake.

That night was also my first performance since the incident.

My comeback as the prima ballerina at Dream, the most successful and influential ballet company in the country.

It had all started again, the lively and busy atmosphere of the behind the scenes of Dream's biggest annual production.

The hardworking staff were continuously rotating between different rooms, reiterating the concepts we'd been working on for months, taking care of every last check needed before the start.

At the backstage of the city's largest theatre, I was in a luxurious; a massive, modern dressing room filled with countless expensive and handcrafted costumes, tutus, leotards. All carefully woven and delicately worked on for endless hours and hours prior to that evening. The room was packed with all sorts, the feathers, the diamonds, jewellery, glitter, makeup. I felt like a princess with all that I was wearing and being pampered with to play the part that would take the centre that night.

Short, restrained breaths came from me, my chest deeply rose and fell, giving me a taste of relief at each movement. My blush corset, covered in millions of diamonds was handcrafted by multiple designers. There was no debate on how it could be altered to allow me room to breathe. Its tightness dropped my size for the evening; my arms could not rest by my side and my back was forced into a straight and rigid posture. The only benefit of its tightness was how it managed to accentuate my bust, I cracked a small smile. I just needed to push through for the night; breathing freely would come later as well as peace.

My head was throbbing and the performance hadn't even began yet. Tchaikovsky had been playing for the last hour from the main stage. The soothing music had practically been imbedded into me, the exact chords and notes were already memorised in my brain, its unforgettable sound and feeling coursing through my veins. The secure bundle of hair on my head was definitely a contributing factor to my migraine.

I turned to the camera, in front of me, with a smile, "it does hurt...but you can't really feel it when you're on stage."

I lifted one foot out of the ice filled bucket below and let out a much needed sigh.

My eyes ran over the extent of the damage before me, observing my bruised foot. A couple new merlot and darkened scars, peeling skin and some unappealing bunions. It was starting to ache too. A couple of drinks would certainly numb the pain until I'd wake up in the morning.

It was a huge commitment being a ballerina and a sacrifice. I stared down at my battered feet, a testimony of my hard work. I was proud. Proud about being a ballerina and I wanted to dance until my feet would fall off. Early retirement wasn't an option I wanted. If I could dance for as long as my feet would let me, I'd be the happiest ballerina in the world. Nothing could stop me from dancing, I learnt over a long time of denying it, that being a dancer was my passion.

It was a personal and up-close shot that fans would like. Jason said the interviews were good because they were intimate and personal. Sharing my thoughts and lifestyle apparently engaged fans. He had high hopes for the documentary.

The bucket was taken away and I was handed my pointe shoes for the night. I gazed at them, ready to twirl in my slippers for the night.

Then I was asked a question about my feelings.

"I would say that this is the most nerve-wracking part of the evening. Hearing all the music, the announcements and constantly being reminded of the time is a little stressful." Then I let out a soft chuckle before shaking my head, never losing eye contact with the camera. I held a strong look, genuinely meaning it as I concluded truthfully, "but despite the nerves, I love it all because once I'm on that stage, I'm my character. Nothing else matters than to embody the work I've been practising for so long and displaying it all on stage."

"And for tonight, I'm Odette, battling for her true love. I hope you all enjoy the performance."

The camera director's voice was sharp as he shouted, "cut!"

My eyes finally tore away from the camera as I politely smiled, quietly thanking the camera crew. "That was amazing, Maria," the director, Jason gushed, pulling off his hat as he grinned at me. "People are gonna really like seeing your authentic and hard-working nature. I'm so glad you agreed to film with us!"

I shook my head, brushing off his compliment. "Its been a good few months of filming. Thanks for even taking the time to do this. Not many people know the behind the scenes of working in ballet."

"Wow..." One of the younger assistants breathed out, her eyes wide and in awe of me. She made it clear from the start that she was a huge fan. I always found her excitement cute. My smile extended as she enthused cheerfully, "you look amazing—I mean, like an angel! You're so beautiful! I'm so excited for tonight! You're gonna be great! You always are!"

I let out a chuckle. "Thank you," I sincerely replied, noticing her cheeks reddening as we made eye contact. I really did hope so.

I hadn't danced in front of an audience that big in a long time. But despite all challenges, the sleepless nights in the practice room on my tiptoes, the physiotherapy, the tears, the trips to the hospital and all the bandages on my feet, I still somehow believed, for the first time in my life, that I would really be great. Something was telling me that it was going to be one of the most impactful performances of my life. I had a good feeling about it, a sign that I had definitely changed.

A lot went into rebuilding my skills to dance again. A year ago, I never could have even imagined dancing again. I trained endlessly all day all night, worked out and had many, many setbacks. But it never stopped me from getting back into my pointe shoes and I never, ever let it affect my mental health negatively the way it would before. I trained like that because I wanted to, because I felt better afterwards, because it was my dream and my dream only. I had never felt happier than those last few months being able to dance again.

My boss walked in with her usual iPad and two assistants behind her. She had lost her old rushed manner of walking, replaced with an authoritative and confident stride that made each and every person in the room draw their attention to her. My boss always held an assured look on her face no matter what the situation. She never looked stressed, instead, she'd smirk at any issue, like she was two steps ahead of whatever the worry was.

That evening, my boss was there as both a friend and director.

I admired her and I was proud of how far she had come. My best friend.

She sighed as her eyes moved from the clock to all the crew. "As much as I'd love to keep going, our performance starts in less than an hour and this is now a female only room. Please take your seats out there while we prepare for the night. Maria will see you right after."

I smiled and appreciated them, "thank you all for coming. I hope you all enjoy the night."

The director quickly replied, "oh, yes! We don't want to intrude! Good luck, Maria, and thanks again!"

"Thank you. All of you, really," I wholeheartedly responded. The young assistant held a beaming smile on her face as she waved goodbye, the whole team packing up their equipment and leaving the room. That was the last to film until after the performance. The footage was nearly enough to complete the series set to come out the year after.

I turned to my boss once they left and said with a bubbly tone, "you're finally here. Finished up on all of those interviews?"

Iris heartedly grinned, putting down her iPad. "Sure did. Did you always have such twinkly eyes or are you a fallen star for the night?" She pinched my cheek as I laughed, rolling my eyes at her way of complimenting me.

It took a lot of strings to pull and a lot of convincing to get Iris to be, and to want to be, the head of Dream.

I knew it was perfect for her when I saw how well she handled things while I was injured. I always said that Iris was wise and intelligent. She had a lot more capability than simply working for me. I wanted her to go higher and thankfully after some time, she really enjoyed her new job though she still sometimes acted like my assistant. Dream was still owned by me, but Iris ran Dream and like I knew she would be, she was great at her job.

"It's the jewels and the glitter," I told her whilst chuckling, pointing to the glued gems underneath my eyes.

Iris looked gorgeous that night. Her hair had grown out over her shoulders and was deeply curled. Earlier I saw how Gabriel couldn't keep his hands off her, Iris was ravishing in her red dress, that showed off her small curves and gave a glow to her skin. "You look like you're not coming to the after party, tonight, are you?" I poked her stomach as she laughed, a teasing look in her eyes.

"Well, hope that I'm not! Gabriel says he has something planned for us," she couldn't hide the excitement on her face. Iris looked giddy as she added, "and Eli is at my parents..." The two of them had certainly gotten closer in their relationship over the last year. They were more than a one-night-stand couple learning about each other with a baby. That was evident enough when I met Gabriel the week before.

"Sounds like he's got something nice for the two of you, better than the party."

He had been secretly preparing for a proposal that Iris, in that moment, had no idea of the plan for her evening after the performance. She laughed, her cheeks flushing.

I smiled knowingly, already excited for her to find out. Keeping the secret inside, I swung my legs, the anticipating growing in me.

"Tell me how you're feeling, my star. Nervous?"

I lightly shrugged, "pre-performance jitters. Of course. But nothing like before." I slowly nodded to myself, "I can't wait to get on that stage."

"You've changed, Ria. You really have."

It was true. I couldn't go a single performance without having a panic attack back then. I would starve for weeks beforehand, drain myself out and cry constantly from the stress. Weeks leading up to the Swan Lake production, I had full rested nights, spa days, practices where I left feeling happy and good self esteem.

I agreed. My therapy sessions and ongoing work with my self-esteem had really done wonders to me. "I don't put so much pressure on myself anymore," I honestly replied, feeling so renewed and confident in myself. I smiled with full content. "I'm only human, not a perfect being. Tonight will be fantastic. I already can't wait to celebrate."

Iris smiled widely like she was proud of me, "me too, Ria, me too." She blinked a little too much, losing eye contact with me as she sniffed. Before she could get all emotional before me, I shifted the topic to stop any more tears from welling up in her eyes.

"I am so craving tacos—I can't wait to eat after," I groaned, despite having a few snacks an hour before. I felt my stomach tighten at the thought of crushing a crispy taco shell with a hot and rewarding filling. Tacos, salty chips, deep fried chicken, greasy burgers and whatever take out I could think of was circling my mind. It took a while for me to try foods out of my comfort zone. But I was no longer afraid of the food I ate, the calories, the nutrition, the benefits didn't matter to me as much as they used to. I ate what I wanted, how I chose to and I had never been happier with my relationship with food.

"I know! I could eat their entire menu if I could. I—"

"Time to take positions, everyone! Positions!"

That was it, the stage was ready for us, and I was going to make it count.

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It took many months to finalise the final look for our production at Dream. We wanted the concept to stick with the original story of Swan Lake. Many other productions had been modernised and readapted creatively, however, our main goal was to regard and honour the true story.

For the first time in my life, I was excited behind that curtain. The feeling of anticipation to go out in front of an audience of thousands was more exciting than the anxiety that used to poison me.

A spirit was revived within me as I twirled across the stage, elegant and free. I had transformed from a feeble swan, lonely and reserved, hidden away from the world out from my shell, becoming free and confident. The soft glow of the lights above me embellished every single diamond covering my body and followed each leap that I took. A wide smile broke across my face as I glided across the ground, my body moving in rhythm to the powerful, compelling tempo that was controlling my every move.

A renewing fresh, exciting feeling pooled deep within me, radiating out as I moved. I was eluding with joy. I could dance again—my heart was racing, pounding in excitement as I danced on air without a single stumble or weakness in my feet. I was finally dancing, leaping and flying in the air, just like Odette. Her power was running through me. My body was as light as a feather, floating through the cool air, with each breeze pushing me above the limits, energising my legs to move faster and faster. Each memorised step and each position had been engraved in my movements; I had mastered every single part of the cheoreography on that stage.

With each breath, with each taste of flying through the air, I felt it. I felt how much I belonged on that stage. How much ballet meant to me.

And with a final jete, I sprang myself into the air, my legs thrown into a perfect grand battement and soared above them all. Those seconds that I spent, flawlessly gliding in the air, were hours spent practising over and over again all day.

The moment I landed on my tip toes, balanced and without a single wobble, our performance was completed.

The atmosphere was something I could never get over despite all the performances I had done throughout my life. Everyone was happy; smiles radiated with happiness, wide eyes filled with gratitude, sweet laughs and hearty cheers.

I hugged every single person I could reach, celebrating and congratulating as many dancers, staff, musicians--anyone who was involved. I was filled with uncontrollable joy, my heart drumming with excitement, raising my spirits inside. I was eluding with happiness, I had never been so proud for myself, proud of Dream, proud of what we had accomplished.

I finally did it. I was back, back to being the ballerina I missed.

My arms were loaded with vibrant bouquets of all kinds of flowers, their strong smells mixed and overloaded my nostrils. Sweetness locked with woody aromas, musky mixed with fruity scents. I knew I needed to put them down before I started sneezing everywhere. But not a single flower was the type that I wanted--white roses. There was only one person who could bring me flowers to brighten my evening. I brushed off the thought, making myself stop longing for someone who I would not be able to see ever again.

I gently sighed in the midst of the elated crowd, being surrounded by so many people and yet, I had never felt lonelier.

"Maria!"

Jason's excited voice cut through the crowd, his assistants hurriedly following him from behind with all their crew.

I smiled, knowing that it was time for another scene to be filmed.

But I still couldn't push past the feeling of the empty void in me.

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~ Author's Note ~

Maria's Grand Performance has gone well! In fact, it was the best performance of her life.

But why does she feel like something about her perfect evening is missing?

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