Penelope’s entire world is ballet—every bruise, sacrifice, and heartbeat devoted to earning the spotlight. But as pressure mounts, her relationship begins to crack and one mistake threatens everything she’s worked for. Then she dances like never before, awakening something fierce inside her. Now the question isn’t whether she’s talented enough… but what she’s willing to lose to win.
Not really. I’m not mad at him. Not really. I’m mad at Tyler, for leaving. At myself, for caring. At the auditions, for being tomorrow. At the whole stupid, tangled mess. of it. I shove off the door, kick my shoes into a comper, and head upstairs, too tired to shower, too tired to think.…
Every late night.. Every blister and bruise and rehearsal that left me too sore to move. It all led here. I remind myself of that with every breath, every stretch, every quiet, determined flex of my fingers and toes inside my well-worn slippers. I’m ready. Or at least, I want to believe I am. Across…
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…
Or I can walk closer to downtown, where there’s more traffic, more bus lines, more people. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I pull my phone back out and fire off a quick text to Tyler. Done! Call me when you ent I stare at the screen for a long moment, hoping, stupidly, that it will…
And then I hear it. A voice. Thin. Scated “Please stop.” My blood turns to ice. I move faster, feet silent now, instincts kicking in without thought, every muscle coiled tight. I round the corner into another alley and see her. Surrounded. Three guys-maybe college-age, maybe older-towering over her, crowding her against the brick wall.…
Don’t make me stand here in the dark by myself again. The rage drains out of me so fast it leaves me hollow, like a building gutted by fire. I study her for a long second And then I reach down, gently peeling her fingers off my arm without letting go of her entirely. “Come…
A deep, burning pais radiating up through my calves from hours ni pointe and milet walked. My arm throbs with every heartbeat, a deep, bruised arbe that frols like it ´s sinking into the bone. My eyes sting from crying, my throat cow and tight from screaming, from holding back all the words I didn’t…
The words tumble out, one after another, too fast to stop. “I know you think I’m entitled, and a princess, and-and maybe I am compared to all the things you’ve been through,” I sob, gripping the sink like it might keep me standing. “But being in control, keeping everything perfect-it’s the only way I know…
“She was about to walk home. Alone. In the dark.” ???There’s a beat of silence. Then Tyler shrugs. Shrugs. My vision goes hot and red around the edges. “I didn’t know when she’d be done,” he mutters. She didn’t text.” “You didn’t know?” I echo, incredulous, “So you just left her to figure it out…
I wrestle with it for a few seconds, muttering under my breath, before giving up and yanking the thing over my head instead, sachlicing by hair to static electricity in the process. At least I’m moving. That counts for something. The house feels too quiet around me that kind of heavy silence that only exists…