vanilla at 3am. ➳ dnf

at my worse

song: at my worse- pink sweats!

        "see that pose? excellent. now, everyone, remember to continue practicing, or else you won't be getting credit in the class. thank you for the performance, you're such a gem aren't you george! alright, as some of you may know from rumors circulating, yes, the yard in the back which was closed off is finally finished. for, football!" sir hendrey announced with a false excitement anyone could see through. football, a sport that seemingly rivaled even the ideology of ballet, one was a sport, the other was an art form. simple. soft murmurs were breaking out, some complaining about the unnecessary expansion of the course. george secretly agreed, football didn't fit with any of the main curricula that were emphasized at the university. 

        a hand raised out of the dancers, george didn't know her name but he could tell she was one of the more inexperienced dancers. it made sense she was simply taking the course and had not been on the official team because everyone knew you weren't expected to ask questions unless they were about the ballet performance. the 'chit-chat' talk should be reserved for after class, well, sir hendrey was a bit more lenient in that aspect he supposes. but god if the madam were here, she would've gotten the absolute living organs yelled out of her. yes, organs. "what is it?" sir hendrey gestured with a hand. "sir, why? i thought it was going to be a garden or something...i didn't think we even offer football for the last few years the ballet team has been here." the rest of the dancers were silent, almost afraid of an angry outburst from the old man. "well, we didn't. this is new, the sports department is starting with football since madam esmée's relative, the principal of kingston university will be helping our school with certain funds." offhandedly, he continued to ramble. "even though we don't really need any more money, it'd be some sort of odd project ordeal. the board wants to test out the addition of a sports department. think about it like this, royal swan university, home to the best ballerinas and ballerinos along with athletes! isn't that a way to climb the pyramid against our rivaling schools?" george closed his eyes and rolled him, it annoyed him. was ballet not as qualified as a sport as it was an art form? it could be both! but some lame ball couldn't be an art form, ballet dancers shouldn't have to put up with some 'sport' tainting their school's name. 

        "alright, stop. class is finished, we will continue our practices per usual next week since i won't be here tomorrow. goodbye my little swans." with the bow from both parties, they were dismissed. george went to change into his regular clothes, he had been dancing for years yet he couldn't get used to the feeling of his body without his ballet wear. it was such a big part of his life, from dancing in ballet classes outside of school, rushing to finish practice, and doing school work whenever he could to attending one of the most rigorous universities. it was his identity, which sometimes made him question who was george? he was a swan, a pretty one he'd like to say. he felt gorgeous on that stage, he would remain in it as long as his legs let him. even if it meant it would kill him in the end, he would swim in that lake till the end of his days. he had a reputation, he didn't before. 

        outside of class, george often wore white paired with paler colourations, with the help of his specialized colour contacts because no way was george going to pair some horrendous neon with whatever was going on in his other wardrobe pieces. a pair of slightly oversized denim with a sweater vest with a white collared shirt. maybe even wear a heavily ironed suit for the award shows, a pair of nice shoes so clean you could've seen your own reflection perhaps. either way, george dressed for the occasion, a huge difference to the george who fumbled during his class presentations in high school. 

        over summer break, his mother had passed and left him with the simple words filled with love. father remarried some rich woman, george hated them for it, he was disgusted with her and his own dad. father was never in his life, to begin with, they met at the funeral. not exactly ideal, george was surprised he even attended to be fair, he was then introduced to his stepmother who ended up being the daughter of a parliament member. how lovely, an inattentive father with a stepmother that viewed him as a waste of space was the perfect combination life decided to give him.