Song- Intro, The xx
New York was like a flame, A little flame amidst the many in this busy city. There were blinding lights, continuous action and loud insistent sounds. The city was so alive, the concrete and high buildings just intensified the volume of it all. For me though, It was always a flame behind a glass. I saw it from dance studios, from moving car windows and from hotel room outlooks. Never coming near it enough for it to burn me. Yet it was so intriguing, I couldn't stop the force of it pulling me in.
Landing down at the airport I felt the change immediately. The whole energy was different here. People were prominent all the while not being interested in others' opinions. People all around me were reaching for their dreams and I guess I was one of them, one in the millions. And while Las Vegas was my family, this felt like it was my own, for the short time being at least. And it felt good to have something that wasn't my family's. I looked around me with excitement. In wide eyed amazement. What did Dad say about vigilance? I was in full blown wonderment for everything.
Driving to our hotel I couldn't stop looking out the window while a light summer storm passed through the busy streets. Could you imagine that? A light storm, not the torrential rain storms we got in the desert that lasted twenty minutes before the sun resumed its unrelenting reign over the sky. No, here, the rain mossied in and stayed its sweet time. It left the place feeling all the more magical with the city lights shining below the darkened clouded skies. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked the two in the front seat. Simone and Mauro, my two newly assigned bodyguards. I could already see from their expression of a deep furrow brow that they weren't exactly taking in the scenic views, rather searching for trouble. "Have either of you ever been to New York?" I asked the silent car again. "No," one of them said. I missed which one had said it as something else caught my eye outside the moving vehicle. They both had the same tone of voice so I just addressed the car again. "Well, this will be an adventure for all of us then!" I said optimistically. I got a huff in return from the quiet men. Well this would be fun. My gaze kept bringing me back to the city again, slightly paranoid that I'd miss something spectacular around the next corner. I had already asked the two in front if I could roll down my window to take in more of the scenery. That certainly got them talking, "No!" they both yelled in unison. I looked up as much as the backseat window would allow me to, the high rises were now encased in a misty layer of clouds. Whimsical feelings filled me. I wondered about the people who lived in them, people who lived in the clouds. I sat back in my seat and was overwhelmed with nostalgia and gratitude. I had to smile to myself of how far I'd come from that shy little girl who was too scared to go to her first ballet class.
Dad had such a look of confusion on his face as he watched me over the span of ten minutes as I walked up to the dance studio door, peered through the window then ran back and did a little circle while chewing my finger. "I don't know if I can do this," I said. "Of course you can, Greta." I looked up and saw confidence in his eyes. I went back again to the door then spun around and ran back. "No, I've changed my mind. Let's go home." He knelt down after watching my indecisiveness for too long. "Greta, listen carefully, you are a Falcone, you can walk into any room and command a presence. Let yourself be that Greta." "Do you think I will be able to go to New York, if I get really good?" I looked up with hopeful eyes. "Of course, once you live from your true place in this world nothing will stop you from where you are meant to be."
Simone stopped the car at the hotel entrance and Mauro escorted me out of the car. A bellhop boy cheerily jumped up at our arrival but then was promptly and rudely chased off by Simone coming around the car. I rolled my eyes, these guys were worse than my family. I got a quick catch of the humid summer air and shuffling people on the sidewalk before I was steered into the lobby. In the big scheme of things I didn't know where I was going but right now I knew with unwavering certainty that I was in the right place. I could feel it.
We were staying in an old historical hotel in Midtown with elaborate chandeliers and gold plaques adorning picture frames and benches. It wasn't one of the buildings that was in the clouds but the place was beautiful nonetheless. We had a room on the twenty first floor, we also had the room across from us and the room next to us. So more accurately we had the whole left wing on the twenty first floor, for "security" reasons. It seemed a little excessive but I wasn't going to dwell on it, I had made it here and that's what I was focusing on. The suite opened to a large living room with rich colors and large gold drapes. In the corner was a small, well equipped, mahogany kitchen. Of course I ignored all that and went straight to the window to peek out to the city. I only got a view of the courtyard a story below us. It had a variety of greenery, impressive for being in the middle of the city. A large double door led me to a king sized four poster bed and a connected bathroom. Once I finished my tour of the place and didn't see any other bedrooms, I assumed the guys would take one of the rooms that they reserved on this floor. They both stayed far away from my bedroom. From the short time I've known them I'd gathered they were vigilant to not lose sight of me but at the same time scared to come too close to me, like I would bite them or perhaps worse cry wolf. I looked out my window in my bedroom and from this angle I could just make out the street below, slightly obscured by a large oak tree. I was all of a sudden filled with a giddiness to go out into the city and explore some more. I wasn't here to explore, a voice obligatory explained in my head. Of course, I should just focus on my main goal. Yes, to practice ballet. I started unpacking and making sure I had everything ready for my first day of class tomorrow.
It was six o'clock in the morning, the car was sleekly weaving through the narrow streets. Vendors were setting up shop outside my tinted window, people waking up for the day, joggers running and party goers slowly walking back home. All melding in one place. Two weeks I'd been in this city and still I was glued to the whole scene that was New York. But still I felt like such an outsider, not feeling worthy to be among the many interesting people that captivated my attention. I looked away from the scene with a slight blush on my face. I felt like a voyeur to the ordinary. I still loved getting an early practice even if it wasn't necessary. When the class filled up with voices and people I often got lost in all the action, forgetting my intention of all this. Arriving early was my way to clear my mind and remind myself of where I was going. And it wasn't like I had anything else to do except sit in my mammoth bed back at the hotel room. I could've slept in but the city kept me awake in the best way possible. The new noises of a new city felt like there was always something remarkable going on. I put on my puffer jacket in the back seat as the car rolled to a stop. I was bundled up in so many layers. I'd never had to deal with this bone cold chilliness in Nevada. I was wearing half my suitcase with my puffy boots and an equally puffy jacket. I made sure to take extra care of my ankle that I had sprained a couple of times in the past. The colder my body was, the longer I needed to warm up. The result was that I looked like a marshmallow from afar. When I walked into the school I could faintly hear the voices of people already here. Other than that the place was empty and only a lonely vacuum could be heard as the janitor shuffled about. I walked up the stairs and into the lobby of the school and then scanned my student ID into the machines that would grant me access to the dance rooms. Simone walked in behind me and found a place on the seats in the lobby. For the first week of class he sat right outside the door. Who knew what the other students thought of all this. But thankfully, now, he was content with sitting guard outside of the security. As I distractedly walked the halls the two voices got closer and as I turned the corner Stephan and Miles came into view. I stopped a short second and then continued my way to the room where I usually warmed up. Of course Stephen was here this early too, he was dedicated to dance as much as I was. It still got me after two weeks of being here how good everybody was. It was intimidating to say the least. And Stephan, well Stephan was in a class of his own. He already had a contract with a performing arts company waiting for him after this program. The way he walked through these halls was like he had already achieved everything there was to do in ballet. Anybody who started ballet around the time I did knew Stephan. He was a household name in these parts. He was a child prodigy and somehow I was here at the same time he was. There was definitely something that attracted me to him but that seemed to be everyone in this school. He had a natural magnetism about him that drew people in, orbiting around him like he was the center of the universe. And he was comfortable with that position. He was kind of like New York, nice to look at from afar and imagine his life but that was all. Don't cross a line, I told myself. I put my head down and tried to discreetly walk past the two talking. "Hey, it's Greta right?" Stephan asked. My head popped up when I heard my name. He knew my name? Then I looked around me to make sure Simone wasn't trailing me or hiding in the shadows. Not like I was doing anything wrong but being with him for two weeks I found that both of my guards were just as overactive as the men in my family were. A constant fear I had in the back of my head was that they'd cause a scene or worse hurt someone. I returned my attention to Stephan and nodded a little dumbfounded that he was talking to me. The fact I'd seen so many of his performances online, it felt weird talking to him in real life. Well I wasn't exactly talking to him, just nodding like a fool. "You always arrive early to practice," he said in a smooth, relaxed voice. "I like to warm up before class," I managed to get out. "Great minds think alike," he said playfully. He was so charismatic too! What did this guy not have? He was handsome, crazy talented and he could talk his way out of jail. I smiled shyly and he returned his award winning smile back. "Are you trying out for the Monte Artiste performance this week?" he asked. "I don't know yet," I was still trying to find my place in a sea of talented dancers. Trying my best I only felt mediocre. "You should, it's a great way for scouts to see your talent. And well, I'll be in it too, so there's that." "I'll think about it," I said and slowly walked away as his gaze followed me. I was a little bit too affected by this encounter and it distracted me throughout my morning practice. Stephan was so unlike my family. He understood art and culture and his family was respected for their philanthropy. He was everything my family would look down upon. He was kind and respectable to a fault. One Time when I was training with Nevio in the boxing ring I was determined to show him how strong I was. I punched the first hit. "Wow, have you been working out little sis?" "No, I've been taking ballet for five years now!" "Yeah I know, but where did you actually get muscles from?" "Ballet is a very intrinsically physically demanding sport that is in the context of art made to look effortless!" "That's because it is effortless," he said and spun in the most atrocious circle. "This family doesn't have an ounce of culture and I'm embarrassed to be a part of it!" That was how that ended.
The first day at the American Ballet Institute I was a nervous wreck but all the while excited. Walking through the doors on the first day I was stuck between, was this real life? And maybe I should still run away because the energy was intense. I guess we were all a bit unnerved for the first day. But then there were the senior alumni who strode in with confidence. They trained here full time at the school and as they walked into the studio that looked out to the New York skyline and set their bags down. We all kind of looked on in awh as they so nonchalantly took this place in like it was their living room floor. It felt sacrilegious to not pay respect to the magnificence that was this space. I was gawking at the open skyline and didn't have any plans to stop doing so if I'd been here a thousand more times. The windows were far off the ground but provided a panoramic view of the New York. It was hard to concentrate on anything except that. In the corner of the studio quietly sat a baby grand piano and my heart fluttered. A real piano! I loved to perform with Kiara and the pieces she composed with her piano. At my old studio I had to settle for the classical pieces played over stereo. It was a fine delicacy for anybody to perform to live music. It enhanced the whole story to merge two art forms together. People back home thought I was slightly crazy for my intense devotion to ballet, but here my obsession seemed light in hindsight. It was a whole room of die hard, passionate people who were driven purely from their love of this sport. You had to love it to come this far. You couldn't have any other motivation except your own passion to get through everything. I spent the first half of class fumbling and discreetly seeing where the others were and then worrying about my own execution of the same move. I realized how many talented dancers there actually were outside my tiny bubble. I hated being competitive and trying to get an edge on people. I didn't know how to be noticed in a crowd. Nevio always came to mind in times like these because he always knew how to announce himself to a room. I'd lived my whole life walking behind him as he burst down doors for me. Like always the fear dissolved after twenty minutes and I was taken to that place of grace when I danced. Unaware of new eyes and strange places. I transcended into my own world that was beyond the outside conditions.
My two guards didn't bother me as much as I had worried. In the beginning they checked on me every thirty minutes but as time went on and they learned my demeanure they left me mostly alone. They knew by now I always came back to them like a well trained puppy at the end of the day. I once saw Simone's head pop up in one of the windows during one of my classes, as he looked over the class, his gaze stopped at Jasmine and then he looked satisfied and left. I came to the conclusion that he thought I was jasmine. All the senior ballerinas had matching uniforms of plum colored leotards and as custom we all had our hair in a tight bun. I guess me and Jasmine did look alike to someone who didn't know me. We were around the same height and she too had dark hair. It cemented the fact that my guards didn't know me and I didn't know them. And they didn't want to change that fact. They probably got a flat picture of me and a short paper of me and then were assigned not to talk to me. Matt would never mistake me in a sea of look-alikes!
Sitting outside in the hotel's courtyard, Mauro and I waited to leave for my class at ten that morning. I thought New York would be so many things, restrained wasn't one of them. I begged Simon and Mauro to take me to central park or to see the river or anywhere that wasn't my hotel room. They made exceptions with the small gift shop in the lobby of our hotel. I bought everyone I knew a postcard with various scenes of New York City. Places I hadn't even been to. The only places I saw were the two blocks to my school that included construction scaffolding and sidewalks. I tried to convince them to at least take the long way back to the hotel after practice but their rules were as strong as rock. After the first initial excitement of the new city and my new school, I felt longing. I never minded the strict rules back at home but here I did. I never understood why Aurora was constantly challenging the boundaries to our world, now I did. I wanted to walk by myself to the cafe down the street, like all the people outside my window did. I didn't want to be flanked everywhere by two men who looked like they'd just escaped from Alcatraz. That wasn't the only problem, although I knew and expected to have an intense curriculum at school, it was hard hearing the constant mistakes I was making and then coming home to a cold hotel room with two strangers who only answered in single syllable answers. I was missing the personal connection to people. I missed Matt. I missed my old teachers who would work with me profusely. The teachers here had achieved so much but were no nonsense, don't waste my time, mostly Eastern Europeans. You get the picture. They looked at you like, what are you bringing to the table? And frankly I didn't know! How was I special when there were so many girls just like me? I was giving it a hundred and ten percent. I was performing better than I had ever done before but still the teachers wanted more. They wanted it more precise and more refined to a point I didn't know if I was capable of what they were asking. I would go into my room at seven at night and just sit there truly alone with myself. Waiting for the phone to ring so I could put on a performance of how much fun I was having and how grateful I was to be here. I tried to hold it together for the group calls I had with my family. I wanted to try at this longer, if I broke down in tears about my situation Dad would have me on the first flight out of New York. I could tell he already had his suspicions though. Later in the night I would call Nevio to truly say how I was feeling. Still it wasn't the same as our usual late night therapy sessions. Back home Nevio's silence was comforting and calm, now his silence felt hollow. I wanted him here. I hadn't realized how much I relied on the support of my family. I often complained about their boisterous nature and constant chaos at home, but now I kind of missed all of that. It beat coming home to the hollow sound of the tv and paper bags of take out. I was surrounded by this beautiful hotel suite but again it was empty when you didn't have anybody to share the beauty with. Martha had already left for Minnesota to get moved in and was loving her short time there. She kept talking about how great it was and when she returned the question of how I was doing, I felt bad to burden her with all my problems, the fact I knew I was supposed to be here yet still feeling miserable all the while. I lied and said everything was great here, at least until I could understand myself what was wrong. I was homesick, frustrated and lonely. My dance was being affected as well, my zest for something I loved so much was running low and that made me mad, this was my dream! But the circumstances were just not lining up. I had to do something or I could kiss New York goodbye. I leaned my head back against the bench as the breeze came and went. The large dwarf oak tree swayed in the wind. My sight kept coming back to this tree. It must have been planted during the construction of this hotel. Nature had always been somewhere I could find refuge in, where I could find answers.
"Five, four, six and again." It was an intimate group of ten in a beautifully restored studio that reminded me of an Parian loft apartment with exposed bricks. It was a pointe class so it was all girls. We were usually in Uptown but this time we were a bit outside of the city, so much so there was a beautiful tree that swayed outside the window. I knew most of the girls here. They were nice, and welcoming to my gentle nature. Most of them came from the east coast so they thought of me as exotic being from Las Vegas. To be fair I hadn't heard of many ballerinas coming from Las Vegas either. Although everyone was a bit competitive for the first week, now as we had worked together we were becoming more open. "Very good! Beautiful ladies!" Said Antina, a little Slovenian woman and a legendary ballerina. She was well into her eighties but still an amazing dancer. I often thought I could be content teaching dance in a small studio. That would be a nice life. "We will meet back in thirty minutes ladies, then we will go through the whole sequence again!" We all huddled around to untie our shoes. "I know a great cafe right down the street if you guys want to go eat there," Alissa was from New York so she usually took over as tour guide. The girls usually went out to eat together. I was dutifully following the strict instructions to stay in the building. Even if it meant sitting by myself eating lunch. Everyone cheerily agreed. I tried to be quiet without anyone noticing. "Greta?" "Hmm?" I said looking up from concentrating on my shoes. "Do you want to go?" "Oh, I think I'll just get something at the cafeteria here." "No cafeteria in this building!" Antina said in passing. That left me with very urging eyes looking at me. I didn't want to drag Mauro with me and raise all those questions. "Well okay, if it's right down the street," I said. I didn't see anything wrong with that.
The outing was thrilling, going out one of the multiple exits, I just bypassed Simone who was guarding outside the building. I breathed a huge sigh of relief once I rounded the corner. The cafe was quaint and healthy. Everybody was so much more relaxed and supportive when we weren't in class. After lunch I was high off the small rebellion I had just committed. And Antina noticed, "you are dancing with fire in your eyes, beautiful Greta!" Maybe I had found a way to keep my passion alive?