Off Pointe

Miscommunication

On Point

Be There or Be Square!

By Rena Rouge

The crème de la crème of the dance world are out and about tonight at Chloé Bourgeois annual pre-casting party.

The best dancers in France will all be gathered for the last night of friendship before the cut throat period of auditions where rehearsals take place within the studios.

Any dancer knows that when it comes down to the nitty gritty of roles, dancers do not hold back. From suspicious injuries, to sudden departures, we wonder what this year will bring us.

Have fun tonight dancers, as from tomorrow the dance world transforms into a whole new experience.

*****

Marinette stood in the elevator beside Luka, neither really speaking as her small hand lay still in his. Every now and then he'd look down at her and offer her a comforting smile, one she returned. It hadn't taken her too long to get ready, the only issue being what to wear. Her hand had hovered over the dress she'd made over the summer, only for her hand to move away and choose something else instead. This wasn't the time to bring out her little black dress. Instead, she'd opted for a short pink skirt, with a three quarter sleeve off the shoulder jumper — she'd even done her hair. But even with the attempt at blending in, she still felt inadequate.

Luka's thumb began to brush in slow circles over her knuckles, a reassuring touch she needed as they travelled to somewhere she would most likely stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone within the school was gorgeous, drop dead stunning with the most perfect hair, perfect bodies and perfect makeup. She felt so beneath them all.

Ballet dancers usually fell into two groups: the rich dancers whose parents had contacts, and the lucky extras who would always play second string. She loved being in the company — it was a dream come true — but something didn't feel right. She wanted to dance ! She wanted to be free to move and feel, and she couldn't help but feel as though choosing to join a ballet school was a mistake. It was holding her back, keeping her restricted in the one discipline, and making her unsure whether she had made the right choice.

Even though the studios were purely for 'ballet' practice, she was so glad she managed to break free and dance the other evening without any repercussions. She didn't know what Gabriel had against other styles, but she couldn't help but think how old fashioned the dance royalty was. He was missing out on a major section of the dance school, and by adding in a branch of others could be truly beneficial to the school.

She brushed her free hand down her dress again, in a nervous twitch.

"You look great," Luka said, looking down to her and giving her hand the reassuring squeeze that she needed. "Beautiful."

"Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself." And she wasn't lying.

Luka was completely the opposite to what you'd expect a male ballet dancer to be. Where Adrien Agreste was your typical prune and perfected model of the art, Luka was more suited for a contemporary or hip hop style (krumping to be exact). He was rough and ragged. His hair — dark and slick, yet he dominated the dance floor with perfected ease. The music being one with his heart and soul. He just oozed the style from every muscle and bone. A top contender for the lead roles.

The elevator finally reached its destination, the chime sounding in preparation for a night Marinette wasn't sure she wanted to attend. She wished Alya was here, but unfortunately she hadn't been invited to attend either so was spending the night with her boyfriend. Herself and Alya, most certainly, were the outcasts.