The smell of wood and sweat filled her nose as she walked into the Bolshoi. The receptionist, Ms. Tserkva, waved her forward. The driver carried her luggage, though it wasn't much. She had a suitcase of clothes and a duffel bag containing her personal belongings. She pulled out a locket shaped like a ballet slipper. It had two photos, one of her friends and one of Melina, Alexei and Yelena.
It was her family that had gave her the locket and now it rested against her skin. Excitement coursed through her veins as she walked past one of the stages. She continued walking, upon Ms. Tserkva's directions to a studio, where about 25 girls were practicing.
One girl noticed the new arrival and she noticed they were all around her age.
"Hi," the new girl said, slowly. "I'm Katya. Nice to meet you." Katya had a very heavy Russian accent.
"Hi," she began in Russian. "I'm Natasha."
"You speak Russian?" Katya replied with interest.
"Da. I was born in Russia," she replied quietly. Her friends didn't know this and believed she was born in Ohio, America.
Yes, she had said, admitting the fact she had kept so skillfully hidden.
"You must be Miss Romanova, the Madame's kept talking about. I will show you to them!"
Natasha nodded gratefully.
She grabbed her luggage from the driver and followed Katya into her new home.
The Madame paused her instructions, looking at the new girl.
"Miss Romanova, correct?"
Natasha nodded. "Good morning," she replied. Though, if she was in America, it would be nighttime, the time differences meant here it was morning.
It also made her feel weird, like she should have energy even though she was tired. The jetlag wasn't helping, and she was pretty sure she smelled like sweat, people, metal and wood from her getting here.
The Madame briefly explained to the girls who she was, and Natasha counted her trip getting here.
First, she caught the train to the airport, talked to her family, then caught an airplane, with her own stewardess to help her, as she was an unaccompanied child. Then, she was chauffeured to the Bolshoi by a driver named Ivan.
He had seemed very nice, and they had talked all through the drive.
She had then talked to the receptionist, who seemed nice but not a lady you mess with.
She sighed.
The Madame turned back to her.
"My name is Madame Solovyova," she said, switching to Russian.
"Katya will show you to the rooms. You may rest, then you will meet the other girls."
Natasha nodded politely.
Wearily, she followed Katya to her room. Katya opened the door, to reveal thirty odd beds.
"We all sleep here," Katya explained kindly.
She had a sense of maturity about her, but also bubbly excitement.
"Friends?" Natasha asked the girl.
"Yeah," Katya agreed, showing that excitement.
Natasha gratefully climbed into the bed labelled 'Romanova' and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Katya placed her luggage under the bed and turned off the lights as she left.
The lights slowly flickered off, as Natasha fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Finally, she was at the Bolshoi. Where she belonged.
Or did she?
YOU ARE READING
The Red Ballerina-The Black Widow
Acción"I did it! I got accepted guys!" That was the last they heard of her for a long time. And when she came back? She was different. She was cold and isolated. Is she the girl in Bucky's memory? Is she the Black Widow known as the Red Ballerina?
