Hunting the Fairy Tale

By MaggieOHighley

9.6K 1.1K 23K

This story is my happy place; I do not plan on ever finishing it. It will go on and on like a soapie. Might b... More

Teaser - An Excerpt from Chapter 20
Description
Chapter 1 - Monday: A New Beginning
Chapter 2 - The Dirtman
Chapter 3 - The Other Mural
Chapter 4 - Tuesday: Attack of the Fashion Harpy
Chapter 5 - Detention
Chapter 6 - Study Proximity
Chapter 7 - Some Mud and Water
Chapter 8 - Wednesday: The Art of Shouting with Your Mouth Closed
Chapter 9 - Swamp Rescue
Chapter 10 - Riding in a Car with Boys
Chapter 11 - The Problematic Beach
Chapter 12 - Deviant Dudes
Chapter 13 - Thursday: Wisps and Lunch Dates
Chapter 14 - The Case of the Missing Paisley
Chapter 15 - That Damn Escuadron Club
Chapter 16 - Silent Knights and Awkward Conversations
Chapter 17 - Friday: Strong Modern Women
Chapter 18 - Elusive Cats and Happy Unicorns
Chapter 19 - Play Date
Chapter 20 - Wounds and Meltdowns
Chapter 21 - Hunting Rover
Chapter 22 - Bonding
Chapter 23 - Stepping from a Nightmare into Heaven
Chapter 24 - Saturday: Rainbow Friggin' Brite
Chapter 25 - Boyness
Chapter 26 - MMA-Ballet
Chapter 27 - Dinner Adventure
Chapter 28 - Fun in a Ball Pit
Chapter 29 - Gossiping
Chapter 30 - On Haunted Hill
Chapter 31 - Sunday: Marshmallow War
Chapter 32 - Goldy Locks and the Three Little Pigs
Chapter 33 - Strategically Planning a Dance
Chapter 34 - What is a First Kiss Anyway?
Chapter 35 - No Apology Required
Chapter 36 - Real Friends
Chapter 37 - Monday: The Assembly
Chapter 38 - The Knight of Slaughtaverty
Chapter 39 - The Birth of Eris
Chapter 40 - The Chef on The Bench
Chapter 41 - Banjaxed
Chapter 42 - Love Sucks
Chapter 43 - Taking the Sky
Chapter 44 - Ghosts Present and Past
Chapter 45 - Tuesday: The Morning After the Night Before
Chapter 46 - Just Getting Through the Day
Chapter 47 - Working Up to the Hard Secret
Chapter 48 - The Hard Secret
Chapter 49 - Broken Flutes and Limp Cinderellas
Chapter 50 - Running from Bears
Chapter 51 - Too Much Seduction
Chapter 52 - Things Lost and Things Found
Chapter 53 - Lonely Ships Passing in the Night
Chapter 54 - Wednesday: Opening Doors Long Shut
Chapter 55 - Cussing 101
Chapter 56 - Water Sprites and Goopy Dingbats
Chapter 57 - The Worst Stalkers Ever
Chapter 58 - Hot Chilli
Chapter 59 - Dusty Dead Fairies
Chapter 60 - House of the Living
Chapter 61 - Midnight is a Lonely Place
Chapter 62 - Thursday: Getting Ready to Pick Flowers
Chapter 63 - The Green-Eyed Monster
Chapter 64 - Surprise Visits
Chapter 65 - Laptop Drama
Chapter 66 - Taking the Molly for a Walk
Chapter 67 - Hazards of Self-Defence
Chapter 68 - Cooking with the Saucy Chef
Chapter 69 - Hugs Speak Louder than Words
Chapter 70 - Love and Lunchboxes
Chapter 71 - Spasms
Chapter 72 - Friday: A Busy Morning
Chapter 73 - Conversations are Hard
Chapter 74 - Looking at Each Other
Chapter 75 - Picture Show
Chapter 76 - Friday Night Loading
Chapter 77 - Some TLC Required
Chapter 78 - Beeswax, Ice Cream and Benches
Chapter 79: Why Not Complicate Things?
Chapter 80: Bee Stings and Other Discomforts
Chapter 81- Paisley Gone Rogue
Chapter 82: Pigs-in-a-Blanket
Chapter 83 - Fighting Demons
Chapter 84 - Meeting Up
Chapter 85 - Loading Up on Carbs
Chapter 86 - The Birds
Chapter 87 - One Hell of a Night
Chapter 88 - Saturday: There's a New Day Dawning
Chapter 89 - When August Blows In
Chapter 91 - Dollies
Chapter 92 - True Friendship
Chapter 93 - Clan-ing
Chapter 94 - Getting Ready
Chapter 95 - Light the Fire
Chapter 96 - Hibiscuits
Chapter 97 - Boy Appetisers
Chapter 98 - Babes in the Woods
Chapter 99 - Blankets of Pain
Chapter 100 - Facing Fears
Chapter 101 - Sunday: Breakfast
Chapter 102 - Walking with Aliens
Chapter 103 - The Voice of Reason
Chapter 104 - Finding Paradise
Chapter 105 - Sunday Lunch
Chapter 106 - Action Chess
Chapter 107 - The Chemistry of Physics
Chapter 108 - Story Hour
Chapter 109 - Nachonez
Chapter 110 - It's a Date
Chapter 111 - The Date-Like Date
Chapter 112 - Ferris Fun
Chapter 113 - Being Haunted
Chapter 114 - Green Eyed and Other Monsters
Chapter 115 - Truth Bubbling Up
Chapter 116 - Feelings
Chapter 117 - Sweet Memory Lane
Chapter 118 - Seductive Quiches and Other Addictions
Chapter 119 - Gray Memories
Chapter 120 - Monday: Future Plans
Chapter 121 - Picking Up Chicks
Chapter 122 - Thinking on the Fly
Chapter 123 - Special Deliveries
Chapter 124 - Monday Morning Blues
Chapter 125 - Drowning Sorrows
Chapter 126 - Brotherly Love
Chapter 127 - Trust Me, Lad!
Chapter 128 - Playing Daddy

Chapter 90 - Let's Dance

54 8 127
By MaggieOHighley

Willow

Looking around me at all the dancers running about, feeling the nervous tension in the air, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of nervousness of my own. Paisley ran off, leaving me in the care of her grandaunt, who led me to the row of tables and chairs arranged in the middle of the community hall for the board members (also the evaluators) to use. The tables contain notepaper, pens, bottled water and a bowl of candies each.

From what I understand, the board, consisting of ballet instructors, financial sponsors, the mayor, and a couple of town councilmen and women, will be watching today's prepared dance numbers, recording their observations, both good and bad and giving the dancers a score out of 10. The mark is allocated to the entire group if it is not a solo dance, but they are allowed to highlight certain dancers in the group, both positively and negatively.

There will be a meeting on Monday evening, during which they'll be comparing notes and scores, and the outcome of these discussions will decide which dancers to cast in which roles for the upcoming performances and some of today's dance items will be used in television advertisements and be showcased during upcoming ballet variety shows.

The entire event is being recorded on three video cameras set up from different angles, handled by professionals, for future reference and use as required. Apparently, ballet is quite a serious affair in Fairweather, and the performance standards range from mediocre to expert. I heard that it's not uncommon for talent scouts to attend the productions in search of hidden gems. 

There are regular low-key variety shows throughout the year to keep enough cash and interest flowing to support the trainers and build decor. Each year, there is one full production featuring only the best dancers. Most of the patronage is from the retirement home and village in Shingle Bluff, but the shows see a lot of support from even so far as Grey Mount.

The association relies on the income from the smaller shows and donations to create and maintain the decor and have half-decent costumes for the main productions. Apparently, the costumes have fallen into sad disrepair due to the lack of a dedicated costume manager and the exorbitant prices charged by the costume repair companies they've been forced to use.

I was rather surprised to hear that ballet formed such an important part of the community of Fairweather and finally found out that it was because Briar Cove was home to our country's most famous Prima Ballerina, currently retired and residing in the Shingle Bluff retirement village. She has always been the glue keeping it all together, but due to her ongoing health issues, that glue is not sticking as well as it used to, hence the decline in contributions and interest, resulting in shabby costumes.

Ms Alexandra La Fontaine (that is her stage name) was unable to attend today's proceedings due to said health issues and will be evaluating the performances based on the video recordings before Monday's meeting, enabling her to give her input as well. I've seen her perform a few times in recordings of her glory days, and she was indeed a force to be reckoned with. Beautiful, graceful, with a flair for mischief that made her performances sparkle. I would love to meet her one day.

The main reason that so much weight is placed on today's evaluation is that only the most dedicated and talented dancers are picked to participate in the year's grand performance. Everybody wants to take part in it, as excerpts are televised nationwide as part of the yearly arts and culture festival that takes place all over our country.

Last year, when I was watching the broadcasts on TV, I did not think for one second that the Fairweather Ballet Association's fate would one day matter to me as much as it does now. I wish I'd paid more attention at the time because I cannot remember if I'd seen Paisley in the ballet montages that were televised among all the other activities. I'm not entirely sure I even saw the episode featuring Fairweather. I was mostly only interested in Mount Sovereign's appointed time slot, as I was a member of the team responsible for their costumes and makeup.

I truly enjoyed helping Paisley get ready for today. I'm worried about her, though. She seems a little distracted after what happened between her and Asher and what happened with Galen. She is also upset about Tanner getting injured, and I think she would much rather have stayed home to pamper or annoy him. I saw her giving Asher's closed bedroom door a few apprehensive glances while we were there, and I really wish she'd spoken to him before we left. If they could ease out some of the wrinkles in their relationship, she would definitely feel a lot less tense right now.

I cannot wait to see her on stage. To date, I've seen some samples of her dancing and I've loved what I've seen. I want more! I'm sad that no spectators are allowed today because I'm sure the boys and Aunt Beth would've loved to be here to support her. I'm really grateful and happy that she was able to get permission to have me attend.

I carefully sit down next to Aunt Augusta. She told me that I could call her that instead of Ms Hamilton if I wanted to. Paisley suggested I call her Aunt A, and when I, feeling incredibly awkward, said that I did not think I would be able to do that, Aunt Augusta exclaimed: "Oh, praise God!" which made Paisley laugh happily.

They are a very strange family...

I'm not quite sure how to behave around Aunt Augusta; though she doesn't seem to be as harsh as Paisley made her out to be, she does have a rather strict, no-nonsense air about her, and I don't want to say or do something that will make her disapprove of me as Paisley's friend.

I think Aunt Augusta must've been really beautiful when she was young; she is still very attractive. She might be in her early 60s because my grandmother was in her 70s and though she'd taken good care of her appearance, she'd looked much older than Aunt Augusta.

Her hair is a rich brown, probably not her current natural colour, though it looks quite natural and she has it styled in gently curling layers, the longest of which just reaches the collar of her creamy silk blouse, with the loosely tied bow at her throat. I wonder if she realises that Paisley and Jake have her eyes. The same olive-green colour and the same shape. It fascinates me how family members can take after each other, even when they're not directly related.

She's being friendly towards me in an extremely well-mannered, polite way, which I find comforting, as this is what I'm used to. I wonder if she attended Mount Sovereign Academy for Girls. She doesn't have a posh accent, but she certainly has the air of sophistication and high society adopted by their students.

"Alice," Paisley suddenly appears next to me, looking nervous and harried; she is wearing the blue outfit I saw her dance in last Saturday, and she is beautiful. "You are needed. Did you bring your sewing kit, as I asked?"

"Yes, I brought some needles and thread, basic things; why?" I don't see anything wrong with her costume.

"Many of the dancers are in need of your help."

Oh, dear! Hearing those words, my heart jolts with a mixture of apprehension, excitement, joy and too many other things to list. Suddenly, I'm extremely nervous.

"Very well, but I might not be able to do much without access to other materials."

"Believe me, you'll find plenty of things in the costume room that you can re-purpose if you have to," she assures me, "but I'm mostly talking about things like loose flowers and snapped straps. Nothing too adventurous."

I take my handbag and move the gym bag Paisley dropped at my feet so that I can join her.

"Aunt A," Paisley says, moving to the front of the table so that her great-aunt can see her clearly. "Please guard this with your life." She places a flat disk-shaped tutu bag on the table. "Do not let it out of your sight."

"Oh, my!" Aunt Augusta says, looking up from the program she'd been studying and a delighted smile spreads over her face, enhancing her serene beauty. "You look stunning!"

"Thank you," Paisley says, giving a little twirl. "Don't let this tutu out of your sight," she repeats, patting the bag. "I don't want it to be sabotaged."

"My dear, you do tend to be a tad bit dramatic at times," Aunt Augusta scoffs, but she places a protective hand on the bag. "Is this the tutu Willow mended for you?"

"Yes," Paisley smiles and raises a finger in warning. "No peeking! I want you to see it for the first time when I'm wearing it on that stage with the full effect. Alice is going to change my makeup and my hair slightly. You're going to love it!"

"As I said, a tad bit dramatic," Aunt Augusta smiles, nodding her head. "Very well, I shan't peek. I promise."

Augusta

That Birchleigh woman's spoiled daughter is on stage, and as always, I can feel my fingers involuntarily spasm around my pen. I've been suffering through many sub-par performances, waiting for the only performance I actually care about, Paisley's.

Of course, Jennifer would be up first, and if I am honest, she is a breath of fresh air after the dance items I've had to sit through up to now, but I cannot stand her or her overbearing mother, with her deep pockets. Of course, she needs this spot in the program more than Paisley does because she needs the strong contrast with the items that went before hers to look better than she actually is.

The girl can at least dance. Everything she does is technically quite perfect. She struts around the stage, allowing Jonah Darwin, the strong redheaded dancer, to pick her up and carry her around, supporting her through a Siegfried and Odette scene from Swan Lake. The chosen movements and choreography are not doing the young man justice; he is merely there to assist.

"Jonah is Fairweather Ballet Association's best dancer," I tell Willow when the couple clears the stage after their performance. She'd been watching each and every dreadful dance item as if it were the most wonderful thing she'd ever seen in her life. The girl might love ballet even more than I do. I must say, I am rather pleasantly surprised that Paisley suddenly became friends with such a polite young woman. They are such complete opposites; I do hope their relationship lasts.

"He was offered a scholarship to attend the dance academy in Royalburgh next year and will be leaving us at the end of this year. A great loss for our association, but a wonderful opportunity for a very talented dancer."

Willow turns sparkling eyes on me when I speak, smiling her admiration. "He is awfully good when he is actually dancing; I briefly saw him dance with Paisley once; they formed a rather splendid team."

"They do indeed."

By rights, Jonah should be given all the male leads, but just like Jennifer Bircheigh, Carter Thompson is always favoured due to family connections. Sickening.

We're still discussing Jonah, when energetic music bursts from the speakers, drawing our attention to the stage and out comes Paisley, holding on to Carter's hand. They are swirling and darting in a startling explosion of movement onto centre stage. Quite the entrance.

This can only be Paisley's choreographic influence. 

The girl certainly has a flair for the dramatic and showmanship. It's a pity that she has no desire to become a prima ballerina; she is merely dabbling, enjoying herself, and she certainly is livening up a decidedly dull morning. Her rebellious tendencies would, of course, not go down well in more formal ballet circles, where conformance to strict rules often is a must. I've never been able to get the girl to understand the importance of certain rules, but I don't regret that she has a sense of independence and does not just blindly follow rules that have no meaning.

One day, perhaps, we'll finally be on the same page. Ballet has always been the one thing that created at least a semblance of a bond between us, and I'll continue to nurture it for as long as possible.

I'm mesmerized, watching my grand niece glide over the stage as if even gravity cannot enforce its restrictions on her. I wish my sister could see her! I also wish her parents could see her... She has a rare talent.

 After a couple of minutes of Paisley and Carter dancing around light-heartedly, like lovers enjoying a fun time together, Jonah and Walter ominously creep onto the stage, the music and lights changing along with the atmosphere.

This scene is not from any ballet I've ever seen before, and I suppose that it must be one of Paisley's concoctions. I smile, suppressing a soft laugh. This is not going to be boring. Despite her dislike for the man, Paisley's arrangement does not turn Carter into a mere lift and twirl assistant; the piece is making sure to show-cased all three of her dance partners' talents perfectly.

I'm soon as enthralled by the spectacle as Willow is. Some of their moves cannot strictly be described as classical ballet, and there are many moments when I feel my throat close up in fright. The girl tends to push things to the limits a bit too much for my liking.

Her performance is not technically as perfect as the Birchleigh girl's, mainly because she likes to break the rules and do things her own way, sacrificing technique for entertainment. One thing is abundantly clear, though: my grand-niece dances with heart and personality. Watching her is thoroughly enjoyable, though a little daunting due to some of the rather daring throws and flips she's subjecting herself to.

The daring routine is giving all three male dancers the opportunity to show what they are made of and as always, I am mesmerized by Jonah's powerful jumps and fast footwork. Walter is rather good as well, and so is Carter, but neither of them is quite in the same league as Jonah. Walter doesn't care; he started doing ballet to improve his strength and stamina required for other sporting activities; he probably wouldn't even be on stage if he wasn't required as one of few male dancers.

Carter cares, he cares a lot, and his envy and jealousy often seep through into his performance. Paisley has masterfully incorporated that natural tendency into the scenario of their dance routine. The parts of the routine where she is going through paces with Jonah, as always, make me burn with the desire to see them dance the lead in at least one of the performances given by the FBA.

Perhaps this year...

I glance around me to see the effect the dance is having on the rest of the board members, and it is quite obvious that they are as pleasantly surprised and as captivated as I am.

"Wasn't that just splendid!" Willow exclaims loudly when the group leaves the stage, calling a chorus of agreement from the rest of the judges. 

Good girl, make them admit it.

Hunter

There is more to the story than they are telling me. I know there is. Jake keeps on giving Tanner these disturbingly heartbroken looks as if he is afraid that the dude will keel over and die on him, and Tan is as skittish as a starved kitten trapped in a storm drain.

Tan is not a skittish guy.

He is sleeping fitfully, and I don't think it is just because he cannot curl into a protective ball on his side the way he always does. I've actually heard him whimper a few times. The guy is terrified, and I want to know what is scaring him so much. Tanner doesn't scare easily.

He has fallen with bikes before and out of trees, off walls, and got injured in rugby, in fights, and while doing dumb things. The guy has consistently been trying to wipe himself out from the day I met him. I've seen him injured quite badly, but I've never seen him look this tense and shaken up before.

If this was just a straightforward motorcycle accident, he would've been in pain, acted like an annoying patient, and slept peacefully, especially after taking a strong pain pill, as he did a while ago. He would not be afraid to be by himself, afraid to fall asleep. I noticed it the minute I saw him. He wasn't saying cocky things and making light of the accident. He was just quietly cooking, and his eyes were even more wrong than they were yesterday when he sparred with Coach.

Jake passed out too, and he is not sleeping much more peacefully than his cousin. He clearly did not have much sleep last night, either. Once they wake up, I'm going to wring the truth out of them. For now, I'll just pat Tan's shoulder while saying encouraging things because it seems to calm him down a bit. It always works with Frankie and it worked with Paise too last night.

The problem is, I'm not sleepy. I slept pretty well last night despite Paisley trying to take over my bed. It could be because Willow was sleeping right next to me, and for some reason, having her near me makes me feel at peace.

Weird, I never felt agitated without her before; she only came into my life two weeks ago, and I used to be fine. Now, I feel antsy and stressed when she's not around. Makes no sense.

I've been lying here on this obscenely big bed, staring at the creamy green curtains covered in little cowboys at the window across from the bed. Tanner's desk, with his school books and stationery in neat piles, is In front of the large windows. It's weird how orderly Tan's room is. He creates chaos as well as I do, but his room never looks like a hurricane hit it, even when Paisley raided his closet or we hung out in here making a mess.

His grandmother decorated this room back when he still shared it with Jake, and Tan never bothered to change the curtains or the desk with the dinosaur sides and the Buzz Lightyear night light. The only thing he changed was the bed, and I think he got one this big so it can be shared with his friends and family because Tan only needs a tiny corner to sleep in.

The girls at school, who drool over him and shower rose petals wherever he walks, will be stunned when they see his room. It doesn't seem right, but he loves it.

The one corner is completely dedicated to his hamster, Ewok (and the ones he had before him). It contains a massive kingdom with four levels and tunnels and fun activities for the tiny critter. Tan's grandfather built the original for him, and Jake, my dad, and I added to it over the years.

The only decorations he added himself are a few large framed portraits of him with all the people he loves. The most prominent one was taken only a week before the accident that killed his father and sister. In it, he is sitting next to Tracey on a low wall, and they're smiling at each other with the kind of love only two young siblings could have. It's beautiful.

I'm glad all these sentimental pictures are hanging above his bed where I cannot see them. Looking at him with his parents, grandparents, and sister always makes my throat close up. Last night, Tan almost joined his father, sister and grandparents.

I'm bored now and would like to take Ewok from his elaborate cage, but when I checked a few minutes ago, he was sleeping in one of the tunnels where nobody could get to him. Done staring at the dinosaur, Buzz and the cowboys, I take my phone from the pocket of my jeans to chat message Dex. He might have ideas on Asher's whereabouts, and he might also have some thoughts on what is up with Tan.

I don't like that Ash has gone missing after the drama with Paisley last night. The guy is always there when one of us is going through a hard time. Sympathetic, empathetic and supportive. He needs us now, and I know I'm not the only one feeling worried, wanting to be there for him for a change. If only we knew where he was.

If Dex has no ideas about the things stressing me, he'll at least be entertaining; he always has one weird story or another to tell me. Life at the McKenna home is never dull. I wonder if Emmie enjoyed her sleepover at her new friend's home. We should take her to the amusement park; we haven't done it for a long time, and she just loves riding the carousel and the spinning tulips. I can't wait for her and Frankie to be old enough to go on real rides with me.

I rise from the bed when my phone buzzes, receiving a silenced call from Dex. Tan would normally sleep through a conversation going on near him, but I'm not so sure about that right now, and Jake will definitely wake up.

"Hey," I answer as soon as I've stepped into the body of the house and closed the bedroom door behind me.

"Bleeding hell, Drake, what do ye mean Tan got badly hurt and is acting weird?!" Dex all but shouts as soon as I've answered. "I thought he had a couple of scrapes. Jake didn't say much, just that he needs new tyres and a rearview mirror."

Oh, shit! Now I've gone and upset Dex! He's right, Jake did play it down a lot in the updates he sent on the group chat... way too much. I should've worded my message better. I'm always being told not to send texts because I'm illiterate, though only Paisley says that... and her texts are usually worse than mine.

"Dunno; I think they're hiding something, and it's freaking me out. Did Tan say anything to Galen?"

"Naw, Tan's not responding to texts except with emojis. He told Gan he was sleepy because of meds and would chat with him later. I just told me brother what ye said, and he is as pissed off as I am and going off his nut. He wants to go over there, but... well... he doesn't go there because... uhm..."

That's right. Galen never comes to the Davenports' house; the potential for trouble is too big. This is Paisley and Asher's home, and right now, I'm here too.

"Yeah, come over," I say, liking the idea. "Both of you. It might help if all three of us corner them. Ash is AWOL, and Paise is at ballet, so no problem."

Dex is quiet for a few seconds, thinking it over or waiting for me to change my mind. I'm not sure which. I guess I can understand that he's surprised by my suggestion, but these are special circumstances; surely, Galen and I can bury the hatchet (not in each other) for a few hours.

"Are ye sure?"

"Yeah, she left with Aunt A and Ash-"

"I mean... ye're there..."

"Dex, this is Tan, and he's in hell..."

"Aye, to be sure, to be sure. See ye in a bit."

We hang up, and I turn back to Tan's closed bedroom door, about to go inside, when a crucial realisation suddenly strikes me. There are muffins in the kitchen! And stew... and it's probably feeling really lonely and unwanted by now.

I can fix that.


Willow

I once again find myself in the thick of things, adjusting straps, sewing on escaping flowers, and helping with wayward hair and messy makeup for a crowd of ballerinas. When I did this earlier, just before the first session of dancing began, I'd been so nervous for the first few minutes, but it all came back to me, and I was soon over the moon.

I love this!

I've loosened some strands from Paisley's intricate hair knot and draped them to dance around her neck playfully when she moves. I've also adjusted her make-up, adding some of the colours from her tutu and softening the overly dramatic shadows that suited the previous dance.

Satisfied that nobody needs any more help, I'm about to leave the dressing room and return to the hall when a middle-aged woman with a messy, greying bun stops me.

"Willow, is it?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I am Sally Goldberg," she says, holding out a hand for me to shake. "I'm in charge of the Fairweather Ballet Association's administration and finance."

"Nice to meet you, I..." I close my mouth, offering her a shy smile. I almost introduced myself and remembered just in time that she called me by my name.

"Paisley told me that you might be interested in helping us as costume and make-up manager. It is, unfortunately, a mostly voluntary position, but we do pay a stipend for services rendered and carry the costs involved in costume repairs and maintenance and sometimes the creation of new items... as long as it stays within budget, of course."

"Of course."

"I absolutely love what I've seen of your work thus far. Are you interested?"

Am I interested?!

I can feel a smile spreading over my lips, my heart beating a tattoo in my chest. During the time I've spent in the costume and the dressing rooms today, I've seen the state of some of the costumes, and my fingers are itching to spruce them up and give them new life. I try to say yes and thank you and please all at the same time and end up saying "yankuples," which obviously makes no sense, and Ms Oldfield is looking at me with a frown now.

I think Paisley will love that word...

"That would be splendid, thank you," I try again with a little more dignity, afraid the woman might revoke the offer.

"Wonderful! Please give me your number, and I'll contact you soon to discuss the details. I'm looking forward to working with you, Willow."

"Forwardly too!" I hear myself say, but I don't care anymore; I'm smiling too hard for my brain to be embarrassed about my lack of vocabulary. I am so excited!

Once I've given the nice lady my contact details, I dance into the hall and take my seat next to Aunt Augusta, ready to watch the solo performances for the day. I am having so much fun I can almost push Tanner's pale face and haunted eyes from my mind. 

Almost.

He looked incredibly fragile and young when I saw him sitting in the kitchen, sipping his coffee while plucking on a muffin. I nearly cried. Jake's messages said that Tanner was hurt but okay. I'm not sure I believe him. On normal days, Tanner's eyes are inscrutable and dazzling, but today, they were screaming messages of fear and pain that were hard not to read, and I realised that the accident was a lot worse than he was letting on. I suddenly felt this chilling fear that we could've lost him. The idea breaks my heart.

He was trembling when I stood by his chair.

The second part of today's evaluation is for all the solos. There are much fewer solo items, as many dancers are not interested in becoming principal dancers or soloists and are happy to form part of the ballet corps. From what I can see, the contenders for the top ranks are all rather good and went through a lot of trouble and practice to enable them to display their abilities best.

I would've known Jennifer Bitchley, even if her name wasn't announced (wrongly), both now and in her duet with Jonah. It is all in the attitude. She has a decidedly cold, snooty way of dancing. Her movements are virtually flawless, her footwork almost perfect, but she lacks soul. I find my mind drifting and actually have to stifle a yawn or two... I might be doing it on purpose, though. During her dance with Jonah, I was reminded of The Muppet Show's Swine Lake version with Rudolf Nureyev, which I do believe I found much more entertaining.

Jennifer's male partner barely got to do much more than parade around carrying her or helping her twirl. Very disappointing! Technically, she was doing another solo, and here she is again, coldly performing another scene from Swan Lake; this time it's the dying swan, and I wish that the bird would just die and get on with it. I want to see Paisley dance again!

I admit that I might be a little bit biased.

I glance at Aunt Augusta and can see that she is tapping her pen, looking as irritated as I am. She clearly does not like the girl either. I noticed it earlier as well when Jennifer was doing her duet with Jonah.

We both heave a sigh of relief when the white swan on the stage finally has the decency to remain dead and leave the stage once the music ends. Everybody is clapping, of course, which is just annoying, but I suppose it would be highly unprofessional for them... or me... to boo.

After a breathtaking solo performance by the redheaded young man and a fairly good one by the blond one that gave Paisley so much grief last Saturday, my friend darts onto the stage, looking like a very happy, perky fairy with loads of attitude. She is truly beautiful, and I am not deaf; I hear the surprised gasps from the judges at their tables. Most of them have not seen her in this pretty tutu before. I look at Aunt Augusta and am thrilled to see her clamp a hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling unnaturally. 

Is she crying?

Well, crying might be too strong a word, but her eyes are definitely misting over. I'm feeling touched myself. Paisley is gorgeous, and when the music begins, and she starts to move fluently through her rather cheeky routine, I'm once again blown away by how entertaining a performer she is. She breezes through her number, not stumbling even once during her rather complex footwork and gravity-defying spins. Looking at her antics, I can imagine an actual mischievous sugar plum fairy happily dancing around on Christmas Eve, trying her best to cause at least a little trouble. She is a far cry from the dusty moth that greeted me at my bedroom door earlier this week.

I'm suddenly reminded of her dance with Asher and wish that I could see it live again, this time on stage with Paisley and Asher both in costume. I often re-watch their video. It is just too beautiful.

When her dance comes to a climatic end, I even hear her chortle, giving that happy, throaty laugh of hers, and unable to contain myself any longer, I giggle too and jump to my feet, applauding her with all the enthusiasm I am capable of. Paisley prances around the stage, bowing in an over-dramatic, slightly insolent way as if there were hundreds of people in the audience - she is making her greataunt roll her eyes - and then she's gone.

"That was brilliant! Wasn't it?" I both ask and tell Aunt Augusta.

"Indeed," she smiles, and I can see that she is truly pleased.

♪♫♪

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