𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐄

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄

As the sun dipped below the Manhattan skyline, casting a warm, amber glow upon the city, Selene took center stage at The Broadway Theater. The grandeur of the historic venue surrounded her, and the spotlight focused solely on her, the stage a world unto itself.

The expansive stage framed by plush velvet curtains became her canvas, with the audience seated in eager anticipation. The notes of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, TH 12, Op.20, Act II, No. 10: Scène, Moderato, resonated through the theater, filling the space like a delicate whisper.

The curtains slowly parted, revealing that all eyes were on Selene, the star of the show.

She wore a gorgeous collant with black tulle studded with Swarovski crystals and embellished with black feathers.

As the opening chords embraced the theater, she moved in fluid synchrony with the melancholic rhythm. The audience, bathed in the glow of the theater lights, watched in collective awe.

The ebb and flow of Swan Lake guided Selene through a delicate dance, and the grandiosity of the stage accentuated every movement. The arch of her back mirrored the curves of a swan in flight, while her arms unfolded like wings. Her extended leg traced an invisible line in the air, a swan's elegant neck curving, while her arms unfurled with grace. The satin ribbons of her pointe shoes blurred with the speed of her spins, creating a mesmerizing visual poetry that mirrored the drop in tempo, drawing the audience into her enchanting performance.

The Black Swan's first appearance.

As she twirled and leaped across the stage, the Swarovski crystals caught the light, casting a radiant glow on her body.

The delicacy of her port de bras evoked the soft caress of a breeze, as if nature itself had joined the dance. As Selene arched her back, holding her breath, her chest solidified like steel, and her eyes met the public's for the first time. All she could hear was a collective gasp from the mesmerized audience.

She straightened her legs, preparing for the most important movement: the grand jeté. The theater held its breath as Selene executed the challenging leap, throwing one leg into the air, pushing off the floor with the other, suspended in mid-air, before landing again on the first leg.

"Mene!" She heard someone screaming from the crowds.

Selene blinked once. Caught off guard, she slipped, her pointe shoes betraying her. The entire crowd started to melt away, alongside the stage, and her costume...

"Mene! Wake up!"

As she slowly emerged from the depths of her dream, the remnants of the enchanting stage and the applause echoing in her ears began to fade. Reality unfurled like a waking tapestry, and she found herself in a different scene entirely.

Her vision blurred, Selene squinted against the haze, realizing that the grandeur of the stage had dissolved into a boy's room, with a collection of well-worn books on Greek mythology sat on a shelf, and a trident-shaped pendant dangled from a bedside lamp. Unlike the magical melodies of Tchaikovisky, she could only hear the annoying voice of the eighth-grader in front of her. Confusion clouded her senses as she took in the sight of Sally Jackson packing a bag of blue cookies from the kitchen and... A bag of weapons...?

"Mene?"

As Selene stirred from her nap at the study table, she opened her eyes to find the annoying boy on her side. His tan skin made him look like he'd spent the entire day at the beach. Disheveled, his blonde curls swept to one side, as if they had just caught the salty breeze of a seaside stroll. Sea-green eyes met hers.

"Percy?" Selene's voice held a hint of sleepiness as she realized he was calling her. "Did we fall asleep?"

She took a glimpse of a pair of girls standing in the corridor. One, tall with blonde locks and a Yankees blue cap tucked on her belt; and the other, with spiky black hair and a black leather jacket.

"Yea, sort of," he chuckled. "Listen, ehm... Annabeth is here... with another friend of ours. Mom is taking us to Bar Harbor, Maine. There's this place called Westover Hall. It's, like, crazy urgent, so..."

Selene got up, and started grabbing her things from Percy's study table—she wandered around Percy's notebook, that had a printed picture of a younger version of the tall girl standing on the corridor. Carefully, she tucked her own notebook into her backpack. Amidst the scattered items, she spotted Percy's favorite pen—the one he nervously tapped during classes and always carried around. She reached for it and handed it back to him.

"No biggie." she said. "I'm heading home now, then... And isn't Maine, like, eight hours from here? Anyways, I'll chat with Sally about picking up our lessons after the Christmas break. I think I've got everything. Oh! Here's your pen..."

"Okay. Thanks. By the way, mom also said you could join us for Christmas' dinner, if you... ehm... have nothing planned yet."

She smiled. "I can check with Sister Natalie to see if they allow it. I'll stay in touch with Sally, especially since it seems you still don't use a phone."

The girls weren't on the corridor anymore. They'd joined Sally outside, and seemed like they were only waiting for them to finally go. Selene waved at them, awkwardly, as they weren't actually introduced and they also frightened her a little. Especially the one wearing a Death to Barbie T-shirt showing a little Barbie doll with an arrow through its head.

She observed a subtle exchange of glances between Sally and Percy, and he seemed to have remembered something.

"Mene, would you maybe want a ride home? It's on our way, so we can drop you at St. Michaels, saving you from taking the subway. Mom said it's fine, just... try not to stare too much at Thalia. She can be a bit intimidating."

As Selene slipped her arms into her puffer jacket, she stole a quick glance outside. The first snowflakes were swirling in the air, and New York was about to become unwalkable. She turned back to face him, a subtle smile on her lips.

"Alright, a ride home. Deal."