Dance was akin to flying in the mind of Victoria Gilmore. Once the music began and she started to move; Tori became weightless.
It began with ballet and Miss Patty's Dance Studio. Little Rory and Tori Gilmore running around the Independence Inn in matching tutu's, spinning around the living room of their newly acquired house to the amusement (and sometimes frustration) of their mother, Lorelai.
Rory soon stopped spinning; she found that her heart lay in the world of (non)fiction, in words printed on the pages of hardcover books. Her side of the twins shared room slowly morphed from princess ballerina posters to that of long passed authors, stacks of books mounting on every available surface and Harvard flags tacked to the wall.
But Tori continued to spin. Her world was a blur of tippy toes and demi plie's which quickly span into pirouettes and split leaps to the counts of 4 and 8. Prima ballerinas replaced the princesses on her walls, soon joined by more modern dancers and then vocalists, and soon after the dream of Julliard was born.
Miss Patty became the fairy godmother in Tori's fairy tale; she gave Tori her wings and taught her how to fly. And then placed her to the exacting hands of Madame Leblanc, a stern yet passionate former ballerina who ran classes out of a studio in Hartford.
Miss Patty taught Tori how to fly, but Madame Leblanc taught her how to soar.
Meticulously cared for second-hand shoes and fixed up leotards made up the fabric of Tori's existence, her mothers' steadfast love and pride: the stitches that held her together even when she was sure she was going fall apart, and the quiet yet forceful words of encouragement from her bookworm twin leant to her determination to succeed.
Her heartbeat to the rhythm she played on her beat-up old guitar, a treasured gift from the only father figure she had ever known, and her soul sang in harmony with the chorus line that was her little town.
Her Stars Hollow.
So young and yet so very sure; Tori Gilmore knew that one day, she was going to fly across the biggest of stages. Her name would soar above the crowded city streets in glittering lights and her voice would join the crescendo that made New York City.
[Note]
So yeah. Let's see where this takes us. I've edited the best I can, but if you see anything that requires amendments, please let me know!
Thank you for reading.