The Dancer - A Hailee Steinfeld Story

Just a Dream

"And that's a wrap! See y'all tomorrow!"

It's no secret that you're damn good at what you do. You didn't get accepted to Juilliard for nothing after all. You had always dreamed of being a professional dancer, even when your parents laughed at you for it. Even when no one believed in you, you kept going. It was hard work every single day and it has been for years. After graduating from Juilliard, you opened your own dance studio in Manhattan to teach. The studio has won several awards and most of your students have gone on to Curtis or Juilliard themselves, thanking you for their every step.

While you loved your studio and your staff and your students, you couldn't help but wonder what else you could be doing. You've always wanted to take your career a step further. Maybe pursue being a back up dancer or even be a choreographer for music videos or dance on Broadway! Your dreams were constantly changing but the basis always stayed the same.

Dance.

Your love of dance stemmed from when you were very small. You were a child with lots of energy and your parents thought for sure putting you in sports and dance classes would help wear you out. They were wrong and you all laugh about it to this day. The sports you could live without, but even in your preschool level dance classes, (there were hundreds of home videos to prove it), you were never without a smile. You begged every season to go back and continue dance classes, all throughout high school. You were never the popular girl or the one with a ton of friends, but you had your dance classes and that was all you cared about.

While in high school, you worked for your dance studio, teaching the preschoolers after school and helping choreograph some of the company's routines for recitals. Your family always bought you those cheesy "Live, Laugh, Dance" plaques and frames and while you had enough to cover all of your bedroom walls over the years, the sentiment was always there.

Your parents came around to the idea of you being a professional dancer eventually. While your father still wishes you'd have done something more "productive" like becoming a lawyer or heading a company, he too was proud nonetheless. They never missed a recital or a performance and they were especially proud of your Nutcracker appearances and your performance in the company production of Swan Lake. It was always nice to see them in a crowd even after all these years.

You were well versed in nearly every style of dance but your favorites had to be contemporary and hip hop. Contemporary has such a wide range of expression and usually tells a story within movement and song and you always felt so free. Hip hop was almost the complete opposite. While you believed every dance should tell a story, hip hop was harsh, precise movements and a lot of popping and locking and not to mention bruises. But you learned to deal with it. Bruises had become a permanent decoration on your body and while it was cause for concern for lots of people, you always reassured them it was your dance studio that beat you up day in and day out. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

You had one more class for the afternoon and then the rest of the day off, relishing that you decided to keep your studio closed on Sundays so you could rest up. There were multiple times where you'd be there alone on Sundays anyway, as dance helped you focus or relax and it was nice to be alone in the studio.

Your phone rang as parents started filing in, grabbing their little ones' jackets and bags, helping change into their ballet shoes. You smiled and greeted a few before answering.

"Y/N speaking!"

"Honey? It's mom! Don't you ever check your caller ID?"

"No mom, not while I'm working! It could be someone important! Sorry....You're very important but you know what I mean!"

"I do honey but it still stings a little," she said.

"I'm sorry. Was there something you needed? Or can I call you back after class? I've got a kindergarten ballet class in five minutes!" You said, trying to hurry your mother along.