3. Stars
There's a special kind of betrayal when your alarm rings after a night of promising yourself you'd sleep early.
And guess what? I am running late, like heck late. I snoozed my alarm for about 3 times and now I am running around my apartment.
I shoved my hair into a bun, brushed my teeth at record speed, and ran to the closet. Wide leg jeans and a hoodie would be fine. Ballet slippers? Where did I even toss them?
Right. The couch.
How on earth did I sleep through 6 alarms? I rushed as if my life depended on in, well yeah it did. Madame Dubois was not going to be happy.
I usually preferred walking to the studio as it was only a ten minute walk, and honestly, cause of the construction work going on near the studio, I could never really take my car as I would have had to spend three business days trying to find a parking spot nearby.
It was like they planned it just to make my life more difficult.
Right now, they were busy building a gym just a block away. The area was cluttered with cones, barriers, and the sound of drills and hammering.
Apparently, we didn't have enough gyms. Real Funny.
I sighed in frustration as I realized that I had to take the long route, which meant running. There was no way I was facing Madame Dubois' wrath today. My ballet bag bounced against my shoulder as I ran through the crowded sidewalk, dodging slow walkers.
"Sorry! Excuse me!" I call out to avoid colliding with a man holding way too many coffee cups.
If I could survive hours of pirouettes, I could probably survive a little morning cardio. Probably.
I stopped at the sidewalk, panting, tapping my left foot impatiently as the red light mocked me. Come on, come on.
As soon as it turned green, I was off again, sprinting the last few blocks until finally I reached the studio.
Just as I stepped into the studio, I heard Madame Dubois sharp voice cut through the air like a whip, with that unmistakable French accent of hers.
"Amara Fontaine!"
"Present, Ma'am!" My stomach flipped, so naturally I blurted out without thinking.
It came out louder and more louder than I intended, like a high school student desperate to prove they were in class on time for roll call. The room went silent for a moment before a few of my classmates started giggling.
Ridiculous.
Madame raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed, unimpressed. "This is not a classroom, mademoiselle. It is a studio. And you are late."
I still don't get it how people raise an eyebrow? Like I look like a confused owl when I try to do so.
"I'm so sorry, Madame. There was... uh... construction going on.. And traffic. And I overslept-" I explained clutching my bag tightly
She held up a hand, silencing me. "Excuses do not make up for lost time. Warm up quickly and join the group."
"Yes Madame." I said, bowing my head slightly and hurrying to put my bag down. I quickly changed into my leotard, tutu and tights, Clara watched in amusement as I yanked my ballet skirt into place and shoved my feet into my slippers.
As I slipped into position, Clara leaned over and whispered, "You know, for someone so graceful on stage, you're really chaotic in real life." I gave her a side-eye glare, but her playful smirk made it hard not to crack a small smile.
"Positions!" Madame Dubois said.
The group dance began as we moved into formation, the room now alive with the synchronized rhythm of our bodies.
The music swelled, its elegance flowing through the air like a wave of emotion, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the studio no longer existed.
It was just us the dancers lost in the beauty of the movement.
Each of us was a part of something greater, and as we spun, leapt, and glided across the floor, I could feel the collective energy, the grace of the choreography binding us together. Every gesture, every extension of our limbs, was a perfect reflection of our training and dedication.
I could hear the faint rustle of tutus as we moved in unison, the sound of point shoes meeting the floor with soft taps as we executed each step with meticulous care. The lifts were smooth, the timing flawless. The synchronization was key.
As I executed my turns, I could feel the others movements mirror mine, as if we were all connected by an invisible thread, pulling each of us towards the next perfect moment.
The air was thick with the passion and discipline we poured into our craft, every leap feeling like it could carry us to another world.
Madame Dubois gave a sharp nod. No praise, but no correction either but I'd take that as a win.
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As soon as practice ended, I collapsed onto the floor. "I'm dead." I groaned, my muscles screaming in protest.
on the other hand, Clara was sitting beside me looking annoyingly unbothered. She was scrolling through her phone, her blue eyes practically sparkling with excitement. That could only mean one thing-
"Okay, so guess what I just found out?" she said, without even looking at me.
"That you actually have a secret twin who takes your place at rehearsals? Because there's no way you're this energetic after what we just went through." I sighed, sitting up and stretching my legs.
She rolled her eyes. "No, listen. You know that gym they're building near the studio?"
"Yeah, the one that made me late today." I nodded, reaching for my water bottle.
"Well, apparently, it's some high-end gym, with a boxing ring in it, and guess who's rumored to train there?"
I took a sip of water. "The Rock?"
"No!" she smacked my arm, "Xavier Hayes!"
I nearly choked. "Who?"
Clara gasped at me like I had just committed a crime. "Ama, are you serious? Xavier Hayes! The Ring Lord? The undefeated boxer? The guy?"
"Uh, cool?" I said rolling my eyes.
"He's basically a legend. Mysterious, ridiculously hot-" she groaned dramatically.
"You think every guy is ridiculously hot." I snorted
Clara flipped her hair. "Not my fault I have good taste."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Okay, so this legendary ridiculously fighter trains near us. What does that have to do with us?"
"Maybe fate is trying to tell you something." Clara wiggled her brows.
Maybe it is.
"The only thing fate is telling me right now is that I need coffee."
"Well, that's amazing because the gym also has a café!" Clara announced, still scrolling through her phone.
I raised my brows. "A café? In a gym?"
"Oh, it's not just a gym," she corrected me, shoving her phone right in my face. "Look! They have a whole setup! Yoga classes, indoor sports and even a fancy lounge area."
"Fancy. But you still didn't my question, why does a gym need a café?" I asked.
"I don't know, but I'm not complaining." she shrugged, "Maybe it's for all the exhausted insanely hot gym rats who need coffee and snacks after training."
"Clara."
"What? I'm just saying." She smirked. "Maybe we should check it out."
I sighed, tying my hair into a loose ponytail. "I don't think sweaty gym rats are my thing."
"Oh I very well know your type." she smirked at me. "But the café? We need to check it girl!"
"Well yeah, you had me at the café." I admitted.
"I knew that would catch your attention."
"Okay, so when does it open?" I asked, now slightly invested.
She tapped her screen. "Hmm.. It says here it's still under construction but should be in a week or maybe this Sunday. "
This Sunday?
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I was on my way back home when I passed by the orphanage just a little away from the studio. The familiar building always had a way of pulling at my heartstrings, and I realized I hadn't stopped by in a while.
So why not today? I thought to myself, turning onto the path leading to the front gate.
As I walked through the orphanage gates, Ms. Whitaker greeted me. She was standing near the entrance, her kind eyes crinkling into a warm smile as soon as she spotted me.
Ms. Whitaker is the heart of the orphanage.
She's the kind of woman who makes you feel safe the second you walk through the door.
Warm eyes, soft voice, always wearing those floral scarves that somehow match her energy perfectly.
Gentle and comforting. The kids adore her, and honestly, I do too.
There's just something about her that reminds you of home, even if you're far from it
"Well, if it isn't our favorite ballerina." she said, her voice full of affection.
"Ms. Whitaker," I said, returning her smile. "I hope I'm not dropping in at a bad time."
"Of course not, dear. You're always welcome," she said with a smile. "The kids have been asking about you, you're quite the star here."
I chuckled. "They're the real stars."
Ms. Whitaker chuckled, stepping aside to let me in. "Go on, they'll be thrilled to see you."
The moment I stepped inside, a chorus of excited voices filled the air.
Children were playing in the yard, their smiles lighting up the space more than any sunny day ever could. Noah spotted me first. "Amiee!" he shouted, dropping the ball he was holding and running towards me.
"How's my little superstar doing?" I smiled, crouching down to his level, catching him in a big hug.
"I scored a goal yesterday!" he exclaimed, beaming with pride.
"Of course you did," I said, ruffling his hair. "I told you you'd make a great soccer player."
Some of the other kids had gathered around by then, chattering excitedly. They pulled me towards the arts and crafts table where they'd been working on drawings.
"Amie's here!"
I barely had time to react before a group of kids came rushing towards me, their little arms wrapping around my waist and legs in a flurry of hugs.
I laughed, hugging them back. "Okay, okay! I missed you guys too!"
Lily tugged on my hand, grinning up at me. "Did you bring us anything?"
I gasped dramatically. "Lily! Is that all I am to you? A snack delivery service?"
She giggled but nodded eagerly.
Shaking my head, I reached into my bag and pulled out a small box of pastries. "Alright, fine. But only after we catch up."
Cheers erupted, and before I knew it, I was dragged to their usual play area, already being bombarded with questions- But what caught my attention was that the play area was not as lively as it used to be when I arrived last week.
"Where are the others?" I asked, looking around for the other kids.
"They must be busy using their iPads!" Noah exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "iPads?" I asked, tilting my head slightly in confusion.
"Yea! Ms. Whitaker's son gave one to everyone!" He explained, "He is so cool!"
I blinked. "Wait... everyone got an iPad?"
Lily nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh! He brought a whole box of them last week! Said we should have fun and learn stuff too."
I raised my brows, impressed. "I didn't know she had a son."
Noah grinned. "Yeah! He doesn't come around much, but when he does, he always brings cool stuff."
Lily leaned in, lowering her voice. "And he's rich rich."
I laughed. "Oh really?"
Noah nodded. "Yep! Like, super rich. And kinda scary."
That made me pause. "Scary?"
Lily shrugged. "He doesn't talk a lot. Just kind of looks at people."
Hmm. Interesting.
I stepped further inside and, sure enough, spotted the other kids sprawled across the play area, completely engrossed in their iPads. Some were watching cartoons, others were playing math games, and a few were even scribbling on drawing apps.
Shaking my head with a small smile, I walked over. "So this is what has all of you so distracted, huh?"
Mia barely looked up from her screen. "Mm-hmm. This math game is so cool."
Liam, sitting beside her, grinned. "We can download anything! Well.. almost anything. There's some boring security thingy on them."
Security thingy? That caught my attention.
As I watched the kids absorbed in their screens, an idea sparked in my mind. Turning to Ms. Whitaker, I said, "I was thinking... maybe I could do a small ballet workshop for them."
Her eyes lit up with interest. "Oh? That sounds lovely."
I nodded. "It'll be fun! And, you know.. it might help them get off their screens for a while."
"They'll be thrilled." She smiled at the idea.
"I should get going," I said, pointing at the kids, whose eyes still glued to their iPads. "But try not to let them get too addicted to those."
Ms. Whitaker chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them."
I nodded, and then I turned to the kids and waved. "Bye, everyone!"
A chorus of cheerful "Bye!"s erupted back. Some of them waved excitedly, while Noah gave me a big thumbs-up, grinning.
I laughed to myself as I walked out, already looking forward for my next visit.
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10th July, 2024.
Dear diary,
Guess what? I slept through six of my alarms, snoozed 3 of them and still managed to get to studio on time. Well I was just 12 minutes late, but its fine. Pretty sure I lost at least five years of my life in the process.
Rehearsal was brutal, as expected. I love ballet, but I swear, some days my legs feel like they might walk out of my life forever.
Speaking of Clara, she's been on a roll with the information lately.
Today's highlight? The new gym opening nearby.
Except it's not just a gym! It has a café, yoga classes, indoor sports, and probably a secret underground lair where they train superheroes.
I mean, it might as well, with how fancy it sounds.
I underlined it with my pen.
Let's talk about my day outside of ballet. Oh, wait. there was no life outside of ballet today. Just sweat, sore muscles, coffee, and drama-
Actually, there is. I stopped by the orphanage.
The kids? Still adorable, still chaotic, and now completely obsessed with their new iPads. Apparently, Ms. Whitaker's very rich, very mysterious son gifted them to everyone. I had no idea she even had a son, let alone one who casually hands iPads.
Noah called him "cool." Lily called him "rich-rich." And apparently, he's also kind of scary. Intriguing, right?
Anyway, I had an idea while I was there-- I'm thinking about doing a small ballet workshop for them. Something fun to get them moving and off their screens for a while. Ms. Whitaker loved the idea, so now I just need to plan it out.
Because if anyone can get these kids to trade iPads for pirouettes, it's me. Hopefully.
Until tomorrow.
-Amara 3