Lorelai had been in Monaco for just over three days now and she was beginning to settle in nicely. She had found her local supermarket and done a much-needed food shop, she'd acquainted herself with her doormen - Matteo and Carl - and found several bunches of fresh flowers, which she had designated to brighten up various areas of her dull apartment.
The clock had just gone half-seven in the morning and the ballerina was struggling to drag herself from the warm embrace of her bed, her first-day jitters already settling in. She had over an hour before she needed to be at the Ballet but the dull tug in her stomach that made her ears ring with anxiety told her that she would need the extra time that morning. After an embarrassingly long back and forth between remaining in bed and going to take a shower, she pulled herself from between her sheets and shuffled into the bathroom with a huff. Securing her hair in a knot she stepped under the hot water, relishing in the feeling of the warm droplets as they soothed her muscles, allowing herself to dawdle for a few extra minutes before turning the stream of water off and stepping back out onto the bathmat.
She hurried downstairs, still wrapped in her towel, and fashioned herself a decent breakfast of yoghurt and muesli before returning to her bedroom, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. The ballet hadn't specified any sort of dress code, though she had noticed on their Instagram that all of their dancers adhered to the basic guidelines YouTube by most companies internationally. She selected a solid black leotard, choosing a three-quarter-length sleeve due to the slight chill in the air, and a matching skirt. She wore a pair of white tights beneath her leotard and shrugged on a loose sweater, then grabbed a pair of soft shorts, her leg warmers and a few other things she might need throughout the day and threw them all into her dance bag.
She gathered her dance shoes, medical and sewing supplies and her large water bottle and packed them into her bag, before downing the last of her coffee and leaving her apartment for the day. She waved a quick hello to Matteo, who was on duty that morning, and set off down the street; Lorelai had figured out the way down to the opera house the afternoon before and was content in the knowledge that she would make it there about ten minutes early.
The weather had improved massively since the morning of her arrival and the sun was now shining down upon the principality, warming the streets she walked along. There were far more people milling around now, coming and going from the various apartment buildings and talking loudly with one another as they set off to work for the day. The boutiques that lined the streets on the way down to the opera house were an assortment of florists, bakeries and restaurants owned by the friendly members of the local Monegasque population, and Lorelai had made it her mission to visit as many of the establishments as possible before she returned to Paris in the summer.
The walk to the opera house from her apartment was a short one, only about fifteen minutes, and soon Lorelai was strolling up to the main entrance. As she walked up the front steps she felt her nerves rearing their ugly head once more, whispering horrible things in her ear. Desperately stifling her doubts, she pushed open the elaborate door and looked around for the familiar face of the company director, Berenice Maillot, who had assured Lorelai that she would guide her through the first half of the day.
"Mademoiselle Von Arx!"
Lorelai spotted the older woman to her left, waving her over impatiently. Madame Maillot looked the same in person as she did in pictures; stern with her greying hair pulled back into a tight knot at the back of her head and a rather severe pair of eyebrows.
"Madame Maillot!" She greeted the woman with a respectful nod as she joined her.
"Bienvenue aux Les Ballets De Monte-Carlo. Nous sommes très heureux de vous avoir ici cette saison."
