Chapter 12

That evening, Ariana lay in bed aggressively refreshing job boards and submitting applications to dance companies, her laptop casting a blue glow across her determined face in the darkened London bedroom.

The application process for elite European ballet companies was far more demanding than American ones. Applications required submission at least three months in advance, followed by a grueling series of auditions and technical assessments spanning weeks.

Only after clearing every hurdle could one secure even the most junior position.

Despite her legs not being fully rehabilitated, Arlana began what her mother called her “application blitz.” simultaneously developing a punishing practice regimen in the small dance studio they’d installed in the townhouse basement.

Though Luigi’s systematic revenge had prevented her from joining any professional companies during those three years, dance had remained her secret sanctuary. During those years, whenever he would disappear for “business meetings” (which she now understood were rendezvous with Leila), she would retreat to a small studio she’d rented off–campus. There, alone with just mirrors and music, she’d maintained her technique through endless repetition of fundamentals.

Dance had been her first love–before Luigi, before everything. She had allowed that passion to be overshadowed, but never extinguished.

Three months later, during her final audition for the National Ballet of England, Ariana pormed with a

technical precision and emotional depth that left the judging panel visibly moved.

As she completed her variation with a flawless grand jeté into a controlled arabesque, the artistic director exchanged glances with her colleagues–they had found their new soloist.

When the scores were revealed, she had received straight A’s across every category–a feat accomplished perhaps once or twice a decade.

During the feedback session, the senior artistic director studied her with professional curiosity. “Ms. Collins, your technical abilities are extraordinary, but there’s something puzzling in your performance

history.”

your junior year at Boston University, there’s a complete absence of competition or performance for three years. Most dancers with your potential would be aggressively building their

her face remained composed. When she spoke, her

17:22

Revenge Pirouette: The 99th Gijk Wa All

toxic relationship that consumed

panel’s sympathetic expressions, she offered a serene smile. “But that chapter’s closed now. Completely.”

career is my only partnership. Dance doesn’t lie, manipulate, or betray–it just demands everything,

of fact handling of personal trauma impressed the panel as much as her technical prowess. She wasn’t running from her past–she had

rise within the National Ballet of England became the talk of the dance world. As the only auditionee in five years to receive unanimous top marks, she bypassed the corps de ballet entirely, starting as a soloist.

position of principal dancer, then delivered a debut performance of “Giselle” that prompted the London Times to declare: “Collins doesn’t merely dance

the company’s reputation soared under its dynamic new artistic director, invitations flooded in from prestigious venues across Europe, Asia, and North America–including Boston’s

office, the director regarded Ariana with obvious

with the extraordinary circumstances of her “death” and rebirth, she had nearly

during the American tour.

see that look, Margaret. I’m going.

director began carefully, “Boston is directly on the itinerary. Your former life–the people who think you died–it’s a complication

for our

calm precision that characterized her dancing. “I’ll perform wearing the Odette mask for each production. It’s

can represent as first soloist. I’ll be

vocal rest.”

the polished desk, weighing the proposal against potential complications. Finally,

stop on the National Ballet of England’s American tour

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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