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Hazel had been scrubbing the floor for three hours straight until it was spotless clean. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and got up.
"I'm impressed" The bartender said "Here, eight for today as promised. Keep up the good work"
She smiled, holding the money she had worked so hard for.
"Thank you!"
She took off her apron and got ready to leave, but the bartender stopped her.
"Can I ask you a question?"
She nodded, leaving the folded apron in the table.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because dreams are for when we're asleep. If I want them to become true, I need to fight for them" She replied
"And what's your dream?" He asked
"I want do dance" She said, and with that she started to leave. But she turned at the last minute "I want to prove I'm special, too"
She went back home, running, because she needed to study and it was already late. That week, she'd have to work harder than ever, but it would be worth it at the end.
When she arrived home, she found out her mother wasn't there anymore. She knew she was probably off drinking somewhere.
She wondered who would tell her to stop when she was gone for the weekend, but then realized that her mother was an adult. She wasn't responsable for her.
Hazel sat in her room and opened the History book, preparing for some hours of study.
When she was done, it was a bit before eight pm, so she went to make dinner. As her mother was still nowhere to be seen, she made a sandwich for herself and ate it quickly.
She knew she had to train. The best dancers would be there, and she had to be better if she wanted that schoolarship. So, in her pink nightgown and barefoot, she settled herself in front of the mirror.
"First possition. Plié. Second..."
She struggled to change from one possition to another, when she knew fairly well it was supposed to look flowing and effordless. After half an hour, she was clammy and sweaty, and already exhausted.
She went back to her room, mentally going through the list of required things. She realized she had no leotard, and rumaged trough her stash of fabric, which were mostly outgrown clothes, with the hope of finding something.
Maybe, if she managed to sew one, no one would realize the difference.
So she chose a fabric and started working, stitching and cutting in a pattern she had invented, until it was nice looking. She put it one and looked in the mirror.
The fabric was pink with white stripes. It looked nowhere close to proffesional, but still a leotard.
She looked at the time and realized it was nearly ten o'clock. Her mother was still nowhere to be seen.
She placed the leotard in her bedside and went to sleep, thinking about how close she was to making her dream come true.
The next morning, at six am, she got up, ready to seize the world. She got dressed, prepared her schoolbag, washed her teeth and combed her hair. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a banana to eat for breakfast. She also made herself a salad for lunch because she knew she would not enter her house again until she had finished her shift at the café.
She found her mother passed out in the sofa, an empty alcohol bottle in her hand. She rolled her eyes and leaved, eager to get to school and start her day.
It was Wednesday. Two days until she was in the Olympus ballet academy. Two days until her dream came true.
She was nearly the first to arrive, so she practically had the building for herself. She leaved her stuff in her classroom and ran to the library.
It was deserted at that time of the day. She reached for a computer and opened Google, searching for the Orpheus ballet.
She clicked in the part they had to dance and focused on the ballerina that played Eurydice. Her movements were beautiful, neat and flowing, and made her so caught up in the story that she forgot where she was. It was as if she managed to tell the tale with her body, and every muscle worked to make it like that.
She tried to memorize the coreography, but ended up memerized by the feelings it made her feel. The agony, dispair, drama, love, everything just by watching that ballerina dance.
She stood on her tiptoes and tried to copy her. She didn't know how the steps were called or how to make half of them, but she didn't let that stop her. Because all she wanted to do was to make the people watching her feel everything she was feeling.
She leaved the library ten minutes before the bell rang, confidently walking along the corridors.
When her usual bullies got closer, she smiled at them.
"Thank you so much! How did you know it was all I needed?" She hugged one of them.
They just stood there, confused, until one asked.
"What are you saying, weirdo?"
"The flyer! It was just what I needed! I never would have entered on time if it wasn't for you all. Thank you!"
They were so confused that they leaved her, and she laughed as she got to her class. If she had managed to make them stop messing up with her, then getting into Olympus academy should be easy. She had the whole world at her feet, a golden opportunity.
"You look happy today, Hazel" The teacher said as he entered the class, when she saw her face "Did anything good happen?"
"Oh yes" She said, smiling "I think I just started to believe in myself"
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You never know - Pjo Fanfiction
Fanfiction"Dancers don't become great because of their technique, their greatness comes from their passion, and never giving up" Olympus Ballet Academy, a reality for a few, a dream for the hundreds of teenagers that enter the trials, hoping they will be the...
