A/N: Soooo, it's been pretty long but I finally found some time and started rewritting the story all over again. Hopefully you'll like it even more :)
Time was out to get her, and sleep to evade her. That, Chloe Lukasiak was sure of. Yawning widely, she glared at her wrist watch. Every echoing tick of its second hand was crudely loud. 2:36 a.m. She sunk back in her chair. Any normal fifteen-year-old would have been excited to stay up late, but Chloe wasn't as eager, since she knew she'd have to be up in a few hours. She had never been a morning person and had always despised getting up early, especially for dance class. A cold shiver of trepidation ran through her at the thought of the frosty air stinging her warm skin.
It was hours past her bedtime, and she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep: her mind was racing.
Chloe had always been a straight-A student, but over the past year her grades had dropped. Homework became a second priority to dance. This was a fact she hated to admit, remembering her plan to become a doctor if did not succeed at dance. The dance world was tough, she had no false pretenses about that, and the chances of performing on Broadway or to be accepted into New York City Ballet were low. This had always been something she'd wanted but her biggest ambition in life had always been to become a Rockette and perform at Radio City Music Hall.
Her whole universe revolved around dance. Chloe had to keep a very tight schedule, and had almost no spare time, not even to study or get changed; she was still wearing the same booty shorts she had put on that morning before leaving the house. She felt restless after almost ten hours of rehearsal. Her calves were sore from relentless stretching, her toes blistered, and her hamstrings were tight.
Her thoughts drifted back to a time where feeling completely worn out was the least of her worries. When Chloe first began dancing at the age of two, she would get excited, looking forward to dressing up in unimaginably elegant costumes and learning new dance moves. Thirteen years later, using increasingly repetitive themes, and performing to the same lyrical numbers as her seven-year-old self had, it wasn't nearly as exciting. When the appointed hour drew close, her heart sank to a point where dancing had begun to feel more like a chore than a hobby. To top it all off, her dance teacher, Abby, only cared about getting the highest scores by packing in the same old tricks to impress the judges. She seemed to have little interest in the girls' improvement, which irked Chloe, who who would rather spend her practices broadening her creativity and gaining confidence in expressing herself through performance.
Abby, frustrated with the lack of further growth of the team, had demanded more intensive coaching in an attempt to keep the girls improving. And so, instead of enjoying the last days of summer vacation, they got to spend it slaving away in the studio, practicing dance moves they'd all done hundreds of times before. Her mom had joked several times that Chloe should be getting paid, since dance had become more of a full-time job rather than the extracurricular activity she had originally signed up for.
But with Abby's insatiable ambition to place first, Chloe's instructor was becoming increasingly power-hungry. At last week's competition Abby had threatened to replace her and, considering the results of it the odds weren't in her favor. Chloe was afraid of being pushed away from the friends she had danced with since she could barely walk. It didn't seem fair at all that she could have everything taken away from her in the blink of an eye after so much hard work.
Chloe sighed, laying the book, which had been resting snugly between her palms onto her desk, and rubbing a hand over her face. Reading had become a habit; it helped take her mind off things that were bothering her.
Staring at the cover of Kiera Cass' 'The Selection', she wondered why she had chosen this novel in particular. Maybe she had subconsciously picked it out, desiring to escape her current life and start over, with all the knowledge she had acquired over the years.
Suddenly, she heard a familiar creak and her eyes flew to her closed bedroom door. Chloe almost fell out of her chair as the door opened. Her mother, Christi, entered the room, eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the bright light. The tired circles under them seemed to darken as she glided towards her daughter, the light casting unflattering shadows over the planes of her face. The sheer material of her nightgown flowed gracefully as she moved.
Pushing her book aside, Chloe eyed her mom cautiously. She shifted her weight and leaned against her daughter's bunk. Chloe did not invite her to sit, but merely watched and waited to hear what she had to say.
"Chloe? What are you doing up so late? Don't you have to be awake at 6 tomorrow?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to come up with a good excuse.
"I was just doing homework," she blurted; it was the first thing that popped into her mind. "How come you're here so late...er, early?" she lamely attempted to change the subject.
"Well, I was on my way to the bathroom and noticed your light on. What are you doing up this late — we both know how early you have to wake up for dance tomorrow." Her mother's voice was stern, and she stood with her hands on her hips. Chloe huffed distractedly, her shoulders sagging with stress and frustration.
"I still can't believe Abby's doing this to us!" she whined, getting up from her chair. Her limbs were stiff beneath her, making the simple task of getting up more challenging.
"I know. She's crossed the line this time. Six hours of rehearsal time was already enough, and there was no reason to make you come to the studio extra hours in the morning." Her mother reinforced Chloe's thoughts. "But that still doesn't answer my question, young lady." she pressed, her voice getting louder.
Chloe knew her mom had her best interest at heart and was just as concerned about Abby as Chloe herself was, but she still felt her teeth clench in annoyance. She also knew how insistent her mom was and that she wouldn't leave unless the question was answered.
"I told you. I was just doing homework." Chloe insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. She dared to steal a glance at her mother to see whether she had accepted her lie.
Her mother twitched her nose in disbelief and walked over to her daughter's desk, grabbing the book that sat by the lamp. "I wonder what this book is doing here. Let's see..." she took a closer look at the cover. "'The Selection'...doesn't look like homework to me," she joked, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"It is too. I have to do a book report," Chloe replied, snatching the book from her mom's hands, and earning herself a stern look in the process. She shifted uncomfortably under her mother's gaze, slightly regretting her actions.
"Come on, Chloe. Stop lying to me. Why would you stay up so late just to read a book?"
Chloe scratched the back of her neck. "I guess I just got pretty hooked into it."
Her mother gave her a look that illustrated just how much she believed that. Chloe knew it was pointless to keep up this charade.
"Ugh, fine! I couldn't sleep." Chloe finally confessed. "I just can't stand Abby and what she's doing to us!" She wanted to rip her hair out, but instead, settled for running an aggravated hand through her blonde locks. "Sometimes I wish I could just take a break. All this pressure is just too much for me to handle." Her voice wavered slightly.
Her mother immediately stiffened at this, concern showing even clearer in her features. She bit her lip and rested her hands soothingly on her daughter's shoulders, gazing deeply into her eyes.
"Chloe, we all know how selfish Abby can be, but dancing has been your passion for as long as I can remember." She pulled Chloe in a warm hug, "All we can do is hope things somehow get better, and if they don't, we can just move you elsewhere."
All of Chloe's muscles suddenly tensed. The thought of leaving the place where so many memories had been made had never even crossed her mind before. Maybe the most reasonable option would be to change studios and keep dancing in a safer environment, but she didn't want to leave her friends. She attended a different school to the other girls, and weekends were spent in competitions, so she would never see them again if she left. Aside from that, she also felt like Abby was the first obstacle to her dream of becoming a Rockette, and she would never forgive herself if she just gave up. She wanted to stay, to show Abby how great of a dancer she was.
Pulling away from her mother's embrace, Chloe swallowed thickly and forced a smile.
"Yeah, I guess." she replied, not meaning it.
Chloe knew her mother could read her like a book and would probably figure out how she was really feeling eventually, but Chloe didn't want to upset her either.
They stood in silence for a few seconds staring at each other before Chloe hung her head in disappointment for not being able to steel herself and let her mother know how she really felt. Lost in thought, the girl fidgeted with her fingers nervously as she rocked back and forth on her feet. She wondered if she'd be able to achieve her goal or if she'd crack under the pressure. Was she good enough?
"Mom?" She finally managed to find her voice, but it was rather shaky. "Do you think that I'm a bad dancer?"
Christi smiled sadly. "Honey, you need to stop beating yourself down. You're a brilliant, talented dancer and a wonderful person. I can't just sit there and watch Abby walk all over you. If she's the reason you're doubting yourself, we'll leave, okay?"
Her mom was right; she had enough potential to accomplish her dreams in life. It was just a matter of attitude. However, she found it hard sometimes to believe in herself.
"Okay." Chloe mumbled, her voice nearly a whisper.
"Now go to sleep. It's almost three." Her mother ordered, sending a pointed look her way.
"Thanks, mom. I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay, Chlo." Her mother cut her off. "Just try to go to sleep earlier next time. Good night, sweetie." She kissed her daughter's forehead and hugged her warmly. "Just think about what I said about leaving. We'll do whatever it takes."
"Okay. Night, mom." She deadpanned, fidgeting with the book.
Chloe waited until her mother had left before making her way over to her clothes drawer and opening it as quietly as she could. She began folding her socks and picking out her outfit for the following day. Then she finally laid on her bed, a determined look on her face.
She could do this.
TO BE CONTINUED
Okay guys, let me know what you think about this new Prologue and the new rewritten story. Should I keep my style and the story this way or the way it was before? Ratings for the chapter from 1-10? What did you like the most about it? Is it clear? Please vote and comment, you might get a dedication in the way :)
Stay tuned for more!