She closes her eyes and she sees it.
The stage is set, the spotlight is trained on her, the sole figure on stage.
She feels her stomach clench. ‘Nerves,’ she tells herself. ‘Its just nerves’.
She takes a deep breath to settle her frazzled nerves and as she lets out the air in a slow steady stream, she feels the magic of the moment that she has been waiting her whole life for.
Her heart that was beating wildly a minute ago settles into a place that feels foreign and yet familiar. A place it had always wanted to be but had never quite been. Until now.
She feels the rapt attention of the audience, waiting. For her. They were waiting for her.
She starts to panic but keeps herself in check. She goes through the routine in her head one last time and then, she stops thinking all together.
She clears her head of all thoughts and hears only the music. She hears it, and she feels it. She lets her body move to it in the now familiar steps.
She moves, not with her head, but with her heart. Her heart paints the story, but her body, she uses as a canvas . She bears her soul and holds nothing back, giving the music all she has.
It isn’t about the steps she takes nor how she contorts her body! No! It was the story she was telling. That’s all that matters.
The routine comes to an end and she’s out of breath. Her breath leaves her body in white misty puffs and a bead of sweat makes its way down her brow. There’s a moment where everything is silent. The audience, sits mum, not moving, not even a murmur.
She should be worried, but she’s not. She gave all she had and that’s all that mattered.
And then, the applause.
She opens her eyes to find that she’s still in the ballet studio. No, no audience. No stage. No spotlight. No applause. But she was still there.
‘Its only a matter of time,’ she thought to herself as she moved to the barre to practice some more.