I sigh, words catching in my throat. We stare at each other for a moment, tension thickening the air between us.
“Wait!” I say, suddenly. “I have an idea.”
I grab my phone and pull up my music app.
As the first few notes fill the room, Audrey shakes her head. “You’re kidding me,” she says, but a smile forms on her lips.
It’s salsa music, a memory from when I taught Audrey Chapman a thing or two about chilling out.
I get up and take Audrey’s hands in mine. She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t resist me as I attempt the few steps she performed that night by the Seine. One foot forward, one foot back…we quickly fall in sync. Audrey lifts my hand and makes me spin. Then I do it to her, too. When the song ends, we fall back on our chairs laughing.
“Thanks, Mia.”
“For what?” I say with a smirk.
“For being you.”
* * *
Of my friends, Lucy and Anouk are the first to take the stage. I give them each a warm hug before they go, just behind the curtains. “You will be great,” I say with a huge smile.
“You better be right,” Lucy jokes. Anouk crosses her fingers with a nervous grimace, and then they’re off. After that it’s Fernando’s turn, and, finally, Audrey’s. She sighs and gives me a nod as she watches for her cue. I take her hands in mine, and we just look into each other’s eyes, silently sharing our strengths and our determination to make today our best performance yet. The spotlight can only be on one of us at a time, but we’re in this together.
For the first two acts of the ballet, I watch from the wings, trying to simply enjoy the show. I force myself not to peek at the audience. I don’t want to see the look on the apprentice program directors’ faces. I don’t even know which one is from ABT. What happens now has already been decided, I’m sure of it. I beam as the “Dance of the Four Little Swans” begins. Like many people, it’s one of my favorite parts of the ballet. The four beautiful swans dance seamlessly together, sweeping across the stage from right to left, while our small orchestra plays one of the most recognizable songs of all time. It’s a beautiful, delicate moment, the calm before the storm brought about by…well, me.
Just before it’s my turn to make my entrance, I take a deep breath and send a kiss up to the sky, in the direction of élise Mercier.
Thank you, I think. I hope you’re watching, because you, as much as anyone else, got me here. I stretch into a few pliés, feeling incredibly happy. This is what I want. No matter how many times I might find myself in this exact position in the future—ready to take the stage as one of the greatest roles in ballet—I will never take it for granted. I will treat each performance as my last, enjoy every minute, and give it absolutely everything I have.
And I do.
I sweep onto the stage, my heart ready to burst out of its cage, but my mind sharp. My muscles have memorized every part of every step, and I feel them deeply. I blend into Odile’s skin, her motives and actions becoming mine. A mischievous young girl trying to steal a prince’s heart. I feel her dedication as Fernando and I spin across the stage under Rothbart’s watchful eye. As I edge closer to my coup de force, the thirty-two fouettés, I’m not scared. In fact, I’m excited for them, knowing that I can do this. They’re not absolutely perfect—they were never going to be—but I feel the strength in my standing leg at every turn. I’m in control of my hips; I hold my composure. In other words, I nail it.
Taking my bow at the end of the show, I catch the lingering look of Monsieur Dabrowski on me. I don’t see surprise or disappointment in it. In fact, I’m pretty sure I read at least a touch of pride. But I don’t have to guess for too long, because he asks to see each of his leads in private afterward.
“What finesse, Mia,” he starts calmly when it’s my turn. “That was wonderful.”
Yesterday, I might have asked if he really meant it. I may have even registered a little shock. But not today. I know deep inside that this was the best performance of my life. Until the next one.
“I’m very happy with my decision,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “It’s not always easy to know how things will turn out, but you are the perfect Black Swan. In fact, I think you would have been a gracious White Swan as well.”
I smile. I appreciate the compliment, but I think he’s wrong about that. “Audrey was a dream Odette,” I say. “I liked being Odile. She has an attitude and a dark secret. It was more fun this way.”