Swan's Fire

2. It's All For You...Everything I Do

My relationship with my mother is a complex one. She lives vicariously through me while simultaneously harboring some resentment of my success. Ballet is the career she never had, and I can sense the bitterness beneath her pride. To make matters worse, she's overprotective and treats me like a helpless baby. Kindness is a rare commodity from her, which is why I prefer to stay quiet when I'm at home. It's the best way to ensure she forgets I'm even around.

With a heavy push, I closed the door behind me, blocking out the outside world, only to be met with the stillness of our empty kitchen. I couldn't even sigh in relief; the noise would likely summon her. So, I proceeded to make my way up to my room.

My room, in all its simplicity, provides a sanctuary from the complexities of my life. The walls are painted a serene shade of pastel blue, and the sunlight filters through sheer white curtains, casting a soft and calming glow. A large mirror occupies one wall, a necessary tool for practice and self-reflection. My bed, neatly made, sits against the opposite wall, adorned with a few throw pillows and a plush blanket. A small bookshelf holds a collection of dance-related literature, while a desk by the window offers a quiet place for studying and reflection.

I waste no time and immediately head for the shower, determined to wash away the grime and sweat from my earlier practice. Stepping out onto the bathmat, I'm immediately confronted with my reflection. It's an image I can't escape, and it often haunts me. I can't help the way I look, and sometimes, I can't help but fixate on my perceived flaws.

I mush my cheeks together, my fingertips pinching the flesh as I peer at myself through the stripes the steam has left on the mirror. The reflection of my neck, seemingly too short for my liking, triggers a strange impulse. I resolve to sleep with a neck pillow for the next week in a futile attempt to elongate it. The relentless pursuit of perfection knows no bounds, and it often leads me to the brink of absurdity.

In the studio, I stare at myself in the mirror, the unblemished image of discipline and dedication. Nobody is here yet, not even the principal dancers. It's a rare moment of solitude that I cherish. I like to sit in the center of the studio and marvel at my reflection. In these quiet moments, I sometimes find myself drifting into a trance, a momentary escape from the relentless demands of my world.

Sometimes, I start to hallucinate, my mind playing tricks on me as I perform a solo dance in the empty studio. Other times, I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin, a sensation that's both exhilarating and unsettling. But when I'm abruptly ripped back into reality, I find myself sitting, a little hunched over, overwhelmed by the enormity of my passion.

That's when I hear it, the greeting that snaps me back to the present. "Good morning," a voice calls from behind me. I whip around, and my eyes widen in surprise. It's our mentor, Minji.

Minji stands there, her gaze both piercing and inscrutable. It's as if she sees through the layers I've built, right to the core of my soul. My heart races, and I can feel a drop of sweat form at the nape of my neck, an involuntary response to the presence of the artistic director. But she's married..

"Good morning," I manage to respond, though my voice trembles slightly. I stand there, my posture regaining its composure as I await her next words. Minji's opinions hold immense weight in the world of ballet, and her approval or disapproval can make or break a dancer's career.

A small, enigmatic smile curves her lips as she steps closer. Her eyes, deep pools of experience and wisdom, lock onto mine. "You seem lost in thought," she observes, her voice calm and measured. "Is there something on your mind, Haerin?"

The temptation to reveal my innermost thoughts to her is strong, but I know better. Minji is not just our mentor; she's also a shrewd observer of her dancers. In this world, vulnerability is often seen as a weakness, and I can't afford to appear weak.

I bite my lip, an unconscious gesture that speaks volumes of my inner turmoil. "Just... contemplating my next performance," I offer, choosing my words carefully. "I want to make it perfect."

Minji's smile deepens, and she nods in approval. "Perfection is a worthy goal, Haerin, but don't forget to lose yourself in the dance as well. That's where the true magic happens."

Her words resonate within me, a reminder of the delicate balance between perfection and passion. Minji has a way of offering guidance that cuts through the layers of pretense and touches the heart of the matter.

With a nod of gratitude, I acknowledge her wisdom. "Thank you, Minji," I say sincerely, a rare moment of genuine respect surfacing in my otherwise guarded demeanor.

She takes a step back, her enigmatic smile never wavering. "Remember, Haerin, you have the potential to become extraordinary. It's within your reach."

As Minji leaves the studio, I stand there, absorbing her words. It's a rare moment of affirmation, a glimmer of hope in a world where validation is often elusive. With her encouragement in my heart, I'm ready to face the challenges that lie ahead, determined to pursue perfection without losing the passion that fuels my art.

Minji's formal demeanor carries an air of authority that is impossible to ignore. Her presence is both commanding and enigmatic, leaving no room for casual conversations. I stand before her, my expression guarded, as she addresses me in a manner that feels like a judgment passed from on high.

"Which is why... I'd like for you to play Princess Odette," she declares, her voice carrying an unwavering conviction. Her proximity sends a shiver down my spine, her closeness an unspoken reminder of her influence and power within the ballet world.

I'm taken aback by her words, and I instinctively point toward myself in disbelief. She nods smugly, her confidence unwavering. "I think you have potential," she adds, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I can't help but scoff, a smug smile crossing my lips. "I can't. I mean, there are so many better girls who could be that role" I stammer, my voice betraying the shock that courses through me. Minji's decision seems preposterous to me, a choice that defies the conventional wisdom of the ballet world.

She smiles, her gaze never leaving mine. "True, but I want you. There's something in your eyes that tells me you'll perfect that role," she says, her words dripping with confidence and determination. Her voice drops to a low, intimate tone as she continues, and I blink in surprise at the sudden shift.

I feel her grasp my shoulder, and a tension creeps through my body. She spins me around, and her head hovers close to my shoulder, her warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "Look, I already see a perfect White Swan," she murmurs, her words almost seductive in their undertone.

I stand there, gazing at my own reflection in the mirror, my heart racing. The proximity between us is unnerving, and I fight the urge to purposely inhale her scent. It's a delicate mix of cinnamon and something darker, an intoxicating blend that lingers in the air. She's married.

Minji parts from me, her warmth escaping as she withdraws. I turn to face her, my eyes searching for confirmation. "Are you sure?" I ask, my unspoken doubt evident in my eyes.

She glints with assurance, her eyes conveying the confidence that only someone with her authority can possess. "Positive," her eyes tell me, and it's as if we share a secret language. I've always known we were on the same wavelength, the only woman I deemed worthy of my respect. Now, the challenge was to prove myself worthy of her trust and belief in me.

As people begin to filter into the studio, it's been 30 minutes since our conversation, and Minji gives me one last glance before welcoming the company dancers. Her formal demeanor is restored, and her role as the artistic director takes precedence once more. I stand there, processing the weight of her decision and the challenges that lie ahead. The path to perfection is never easy, but with Minji's confidence in me, I'm determined to rise to the occasion and embrace the role she's entrusted me with. It's only her approval that matters.