Lukas
OCTOBER
“Hey, this is Magnolia. Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Hey, Mags, me again. This probably sounds weird, but I found some old videos of your ballet troupe online. I went down a rabbit hole and watched you dance to Giselle. I think that was the one you tried to tell me about when I was deployed. The video was clear, but it was from pretty far back, must have been recorded from a balcony or something. It didn’t zoom in on the dancer’s faces, but I could tell which one was you.
Is that odd?” I chuckle awkwardly to myself.
“I think I’ve watched you dance so much that I can tell just by the way your hands move, if that makes sense. ”
Something about her movement just draws attention. She can be in a line of dancers, all dressed identically. Same height, same stature. They will be doing the same move, meant to be part of the backdrop and not the focus, and she still stands out.
“It was … I don’t have the words, honestly.
You were incredible. You always have been.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen you dance that it felt like the first time all over again.
You’ve really made something of yourself, and …
well, I’m proud of you. I don’t know if I ever said that enough when we were together, that I’m proud of you.
And I hope you’re proud of yourself. Not everyone gets to make their childhood dream a reality, and that’s not a dig at myself for what I lost. I just mean that getting to live out your childhood dream is one thing, but being damn good at it is another.
But you’re living it, and you’re the best of the best, Mags. ”