TAPE I / [A VIDEO CAMERA SHAKES BEFORE SETTLING ON A THREE-YEAR-OLD GIRL] Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail with a dainty, pale pink ribbon (simple and sacred) holding it together. She's got brightness in her teeth, it changes the expression on a persons face the way opening a window changes a dark room. Her eyes are shiny with childish wonder and joy, and they glisten against the sunshine seeping into the living room. She's dancing. Her giggles clog the air, filling the room with a melody that'll ring through her parents minds for years to come. Her pale, skinny arms (that are usually all freckled during the summertime) are above her head in jazz-hands. She sweeps a leg to the side and bows gracefully, just the way her mother showed her, and then she does the same to the right. [THE CAMERA SHAKES AND LOWERS INTO THE LAP OF THE MAN RECORDING]
Seconds later, the room is thick with claps. Wonderful! Beautiful! You were amazing, angel! The girls father throws in a whistle from behind the camera, you can hear his laugh bounce of the walls, it'll shake through your skin and embed itself into your heart (he always had that laugh about him, the one that makes people feel safe, like an old friend coming to greet them again.) [THE CAMERA SHAKES AS IT ELEVATES, THEN IT TURNS AND SHOWS THE ROOM. YOU CAN SEE A WOMAN CLAPPING WITH A LAUGH, AND A ONE-YEAR-OLD GIRL BABBLING]
The girls little sister isn't sure what she's clapping at, but she does it anyway, it feels right. [THE CAMERA TURNS BACK TO THE GIRL WITH HER HANDS STILL IN THE AIR, A BROADWAY WORTHY SMILE ON HER FACE] A flame is ignited. A star is born.
TAPE II / Ivanna's got that those crybaby tears lodged in her throat again. Nervousness is nestled in her lap, making itself right at home. You can see it- the quirk in her eyebrow (the one she gets when she's anxious) even from far away in the audience where her parents are sat. The emcee's voice is deep in the microphone, his excited tone reverberating off the walls, off the stage, off Ivanna's skin. She looks at her sister, she's cradling her trophy in her arms. Ivanna's arms feel so empty. She looks at the emcee again (she's been avoiding him.) He smiles, that comically big smile that all emcee's seem to have. A little girl (he called her Megan) gets up to accept second place, she excited about it. It's probably her first time in second, one higher than before. She's proud. Ivanna hopes she'll never be proud of second. She doesn't want to lose first. She doesn't want to lose at all. The speed at which her heart beats causes her chest to hurt. She's trying to calm down- 1, 2, 1, 2, 1- the emcee speaks again. She swallows those crybaby tears. Nervousness hops off her lap, it's not needed anymore, it's got somewhere else to be. Ivanna smiles proudly, she hears her family cheering, she loves the way the medal feels against her collarbones, her arms are all full with an award and a trophy. She can breathe again.
TAPE III / The lens is glaring right at her. Like a laser, she can feel it burning into her face. Hundreds- no- thousands are watching her. She knows because she had to push her way through the crowd of raving fans trying to grab at her shirt when she came into the studio that morning. She knows because Instagram is flooded with comments like: 'Why is she so special?' and 'She's not all that. I like Nia better' and 'Cocky brat' (she got a look at it when her father went to get a glass of water.) The lens is still following her, her every move. She feels watched, claustrophobic, something's wrong, something isn't right. Where did she go wrong? Was it the slight stumble? Did the judges not like ballet? I bet they don't. Maybe they wanted a boy over me. What will mom think if I lose? What will everyone think if I lose? They'll be right- she's not all that. They're right, aren't they? She can't hear, all she knows is that the emcee is speaking and looking at her. Was that fourth place? Or third? It's not second, is it? Please don't let it be second. Chloe taps at her shoulder, she nods at the emcee. Aurora smiles and gets up, she sees the lens glaring, the people glaring, her mother glaring (is it at her or the dancers beside her?) She's got third, she knows because a girl named Naomi is beside her and Chloe is beside Naomi but on the other side- first. Aurora lost, but the scab that she usually picks at is all healed up instead of bleeding. It's okay. She's okay with third. Right? Right?! She doesn't have too much fight left, she's tired. She wants her bed. A fire is burned out.
TAPE IV / [THE CAMERA IS FOCUSED ON HER- IVANNA. THE GUY BEHIND THE CAMERA WON'T LET UP. HE WON'T LISTEN TO THE PEOPLE TELLING HIM TO GIVE HER SPACE] Space! Space! Give her space? What's wrong with you?! That's what they're all yelling but the man behind the camera doesn't hear it, he pretends he doesn't. This has been a long time coming, this'll get the people talking, this'll get me that bonus check. Aurora doesn't care for the camera, or the yelling. Her face is all red and blotchy. She hasn't cried like this in years. Ivanna's been labeled the crybaby, she doesn't deserve to cry, she's got it all. But now she doesn't. It's slipping through her hands like sand. Her throat hurts, her cheeks burn, she's cried so much she isn't sure if she's still breathing. Take a breath. But she can't, it's impossible, the sobs escape her like it's second-nature. Nobody ever wanted her to cry, but now they'll allow it (just this one time.) Cry, little girl, let it out. Ivanna cries so much she feels the bile rising up her throat, and then it settles, then it's back. Breath, Ivanna! She clutches her sisters hand before she falls. The last time she sees her mother is when she is getting in a car, off to jail. There is no more fire. There is only a brewing storm. There is only rage. She yells. It's foreign coming from her.
[AURORA MARCHES TOWARDS THE CAMERA. IT SHAKES. IT GLARING AT THE FLOOR NOW, SOME HEELS COME INTO VIEW, THEN THEY LEAVE AND THERE IS ONLY YELLING. THE FOOTAGE GETS SHAKY. NOW THERE IS ONLY BLACK]
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VOGUES NOTES hello, everyone! hopefully the paragraphs weren't too long. i also hope everyone enjoyed this writing style, it's only for the prologue, the actual story is written in regular third person. I thought this would be an interesting way to give a little bit of insight into the lives of Aurora and Ivanna. (PS : I have a whole different prologue written out in my drafts but I decided to go with this one because it's a different take on prologues) It's going to get really tough and there is going to be lots of character growth, i'm sure at some point i'll cry writing a chapter in season six/seven... not because i feel bad for Abby, because i feel bad for Aurora and Ivanna even though they aren't real people. anyway, hope you enjoyed this!!!
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Punisher, Dance Moms
Fanfictionthe word 'Mother' rots in my mouth Punisher / dance moms 2023 © NOTVOGUE
