Breaking Pointe

Chapter 3

Ariel's Point of View 

I walked down the long corridor of the academy, my mind buzzing. I stopped to look in one of the studios to see girls a few years older than myself. They were wearing black leotards and tutus, indicating they were the girls in their third and final year. I stood there, watching for who knows how long, before remembering that I had to hurry up. I started speed walking down the hall, looking down at the map of the school.

"Look out!" A voice shouted. I stopped abruptly before colliding with a boy on a skateboard and hitting the floor.

"Are you insane?" I asked the ignorant boy. He only laughed, confirming my suspicions.

"Why are you laughing? You're going to fall and hurt yourself! And more importantly, jeopardize your audition and your entire future!" I was basically screaming. He only laughed again.

"Babe, I'm in third year, I'm not auditioning. Plus, my dad's the head chairman at this school. No matter what, they'll never kick me out," he said quite arrogantly as he helped me get up.

"Whatever, Mr. Big Shot. Can you just show me to the dressing rooms?" I asked.

"Sure thing, babe." He said. I rolled my eyes.

He lead me down the corridor, his eyes never looking down. I admired how confident he was, but he didn't have to be so cocky. It was a bit annoying, actually.

I noticed girls staring at us, an emotion on their face I recognized as jealously. Boys smirked at us as we walked past, probably assuming something was about to happen inside, which was definitely not the truth. Yes, he was attractive. I sort of understood why the girls were jealous that this blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy was talking to me. However, he was very arrogant, and I didn't even know what his name was.

He stopped abruptly at a door, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Okay babe, this is it," he said. I was about to enter when I turned and said, "Don't call me babe, my name is Ariel."

"I'm Niall. Have a good time in there. I know I've had quite a few fun memories inside," he mused, winking. Then, he turned and left, leaving me wondering what on Earth that could possibly have meant.

I quickly threw my pink sweater over my head, and stepped out of my sweatpants, leaving me in just my leotard and tights. I put on my pointe shoes, and darted out the door.

I entered the studio, where I saw around one hundred other teenagers my age. Some were familiar, some I had once known quite well at my last school, while others were complete strangers.

I watched a few of the girls warm up for a moment, analyzing their every move. Some were flexible, some had good feet, a few had "ballet bodies", and some were just naturals. Very few seemed to have all of these qualities. I, unfortunately, was not one of these people.

After a long sigh, I decided to start warming up myself. I stood at the front of the barre, closest to where the teachers were going to sit.

Suddenly, extremely loud pop music started blasting through the speakers. I looked over to see a girl with a messy bun and tights adorned with holes singing obnoxiously. I cringed.

Then, I watched the girl walk around to everyone, trying to get them to dance, before stopping in the middle of the room and spinning around in circles. One poor guy was trying to get to the barre, when she got in his face and made him dance.

"Come on, loosen up! We're here to dance!" She shouted at him, grabbing his hand.

His face turned bright red because he knew everyone was staring. He awkwardly laughed and spun her around before finding a spot at the barre across from me. He looked humiliated and I pretended that I hadn't been watching. He shakily ran a hand through his chocolate colored hair, and adjusted his glasses.

Soon enough, the teachers came back into the room, and they called us over so they could talk to us.

"Welcome," an older man said, looking around at each and every one of us. "All one hundred of you have been hand-picked amongst thousands of dancers who applied for this school. However, we only have room for about a quarter of you in first year. This week, it is your job to make sure that you are one of them. I wish the best of luck to each and every one of you."

*****

By the end of the week, we had been through the same things every day. The same barre exercises, turns and leaps. We also learned the choreography to a piece by one of my favorite choreographers. Within the first few days, about five of the best dancers that were auditioning had been sent home due to injury. To say the least, It was an amazing week.

Then, on the last day of audition week came the most nerve-wracking part--my solo audition.

I stood in the long, narrow hall waiting for my name to be called, along with the other girls. When I heard Elizabeth Granger get called into the room, my heart started beating ten times faster because I knew I was next.

I went over the choreography as I watched Elizabeth's audition through the window. I couldn't help but smile when she fell out of her last turn sequence and walk out of the room, almost in tears.

With a sudden boost of confidence after watching one of the best remaining dancers make such a big mistake, I pushed the door open and greeted the judges.

The music started and I forgot everything. The politics of the academy, technique, and the judges didn't matter anymore. All I could focus on was the dance.

*****

Harry's Point of View 

It was almost as if my whole body was aware that I was about to go through a life altering audition. My hands were shaking. My legs could barely keep me standing up. My mind was racing and there was no finish line that could make it stop. Would I be able to perform? Would my nerves make me mess up and not get the scholarship? Or not get in at all?

And then suddenly I was in front of the judges. I couldn't look at them. It would just make everything in my body worse. My eyes never left the floor. What a lovely floor it was.

The music started playing quietly and the world fell from my fingertips. I was dancing. It was like someone else was controlling my movements and making them more fluent. Even the judges stopped writing to look at my dancing. Their faces were shocked. Probably because I seemed so shy and forced. But then, the music started and I was at peace.

I was no longer the awkward and shy "ballet boy" when I danced. I was just Harry. I was happy.

Author's Note

Hello everyone! I'M FINALLY BACK! it's literally midnight where I live AND I FEEL LIKE BEYONCÉ WHEN SHE DROPPED HER ALBUM AT MIDNIGHT OMG sorry I'm weird lol. But anyways I hope this chapter is good/makes sense. I had to completely rewrite it because the original version was on my old phone and was lost forever when I got a new phone. I'm really trying to write and upload this a lot faster! Also I'd like to give a huge thanks to mare for helping me rewrite this and to the people who have been commenting and reminding me to update this :) I LOVE YOU ALL SM! PLEASE VOTE COMMENT AND FOLLOW :) xoxo -hayl