ROMANCE - SLOWBURN - INDENTITY - ART - FEMALE & FEMALE
Can we find ourselves in others?
Lena, a soulful writer, weaves words from whispers and secrets. Seeking solace in the night, she pours her heart onto the page, but fears sharing her true self.
...
Val's feet glided effortlessly across the polished wooden floor, her body swaying to the rhythm of the music. The melody was a gentle caress, wrapping itself around her like a warm embrace. She felt alive, her passion for dance shining through every step, every movement. The rustle of her skirt, the soft creak of her shoes, and the sweet scent of rosin wafting from her dance bag all blended together in a sensory symphony.
As she finished her routine, applause erupted from the small audience, a wave of sound that washed over her like a gentle breeze. Val's heart swelled with pride, her face flushed with excitement. She took a deep bow, her gaze sweeping across the room, searching for Alex.
But as her eyes met his, her excitement faltered. He was sitting in the back, his expression unreadable, his arms crossed over his chest. She knew that look all too well - it was the same one he wore every time she talked about her dancing. A look that said, "I'm tolerating this, but I don't really get it."
"Hey, you were great out there," he said, his voice flat, devoid of enthusiasm.
Val felt a pang of disappointment, like a tiny pinprick deflating her balloon of excitement. "Thanks," she replied, trying to sound casual despite the growing frustration inside her.
As they left the studio, Val couldn't shake off the feeling that Alex didn't truly support her passion. She felt like she was dancing for herself alone, with no one to share the joy and excitement with. The cool evening air outside was a stark contrast to the warmth and energy of the studio, and Val shivered, feeling a chill run down her spine.
As Val walked out of the studio, the cool evening air carried her back to a different time, a different place...
She was 16 again, standing in her mother's old dance studio, the smell of freshly waxed floors and rosin filling her lungs. The sound of Johann Strauss's "The Blue Danube" floated through the air, and Val's heart swelled with excitement.
Val's mother, a former ballroom dance champion herself, stood beside her, guiding her movements. "Feel the music, Val," she whispered. "Let it move you." And Val did. She lost herself in the waltz, her body swaying, twirling, and leaping across the floor. The world disappeared, leaving only the dance, the music, and her mother's encouraging smile.
Val's first performance, a ballroom dance recital, was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves. She remembered the feel of her mother's hands adjusting her sparkling ball gown, the delicate lace trim on her hem fluttering as she moved. The music began, and Val's partner, a boy from her class, took her hand. Together, they moved in perfect harmony, their steps fluid and synchronized as they executed a flawless waltz. Val's heart soared as she lost herself in the rhythm, the sway of her frame, and the rotation of their turns. She felt like a princess, a dancer, an artist. As they finished, applause erupted, and Val's face flushed with joy. Her mother beamed with pride, and Val knew, in that moment, she was meant to dance.
Val's memory lingered on the applause and her mother's proud smile, a warm glow that enveloped her entire being. But then, she heard Alex's voice, a distant murmur that pulled her back to the present. She wasn't quite sure what he said, but it was enough to break the spell of her nostalgia. Val's eyes refocused on the parking lot, her mind foggy.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alex's expression darkened, his jaw clenched in irritation. "I said, we need to get going," he repeated, his tone sharp and angry.
Val felt a shiver run down her spine as she processed his words. Her gaze drifted away from Alex, back to the studio's neon lights, now a harsh reminder of reality. The applause and smiles of her past seemed to mock her, a cruel contrast to the tension between them. Val's eyes returned to Alex, his face a mask of impatience. She felt a familiar knot in her stomach, a sense of being trapped, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why.
Val's eyes narrowed as she turned to face Alex. "Do we have to go to this exhibition tonight?" she asked, her voice laced with reluctance.
Alex nodded, his expression expectant. "Yes, we do. I have important clients attending, and it's crucial for my career that I'm there to schmooze and build relationships."
Val sighed inwardly, feeling like a prop in Alex's game of career advancement. "I need to go home and change first," she said, trying to stall for time.
Alex glanced at his watch. "Fine, but make it quick. We need to be there in an hour."
Val nodded, a plan forming in her mind. As soon as Alex dropped her off at their apartment, she rushed inside and closed the door behind her. She smiled to herself as she thought about what she would wear.
She deliberately chose a bright dress, one that was bold, daring, and completely unlike anything Alex would approve of. The dress was tight, short, and screamed "look at me!" - everything Alex hated. But Val didn't care. She was tired of being a prop, tired of being told what to do and how to look.
She put on the dress, feeling a sense of defiance and rebellion. She added some bold black heels and a confident smile, completing the look. She knew Alex would be appalled, but she didn't care. For once, she was going to do what she wanted, not what he expected.
With a satisfied smile, Val grabbed her clutch and headed back out the door, ready to face Alex's disapproval and whatever the evening had in store.
Val emerged from the apartment, her bright red dress making a bold statement. Alex's eyes widened in surprise, his gaze scanning her from head to toe.
"What are you wearing?" he asked, his voice low and incredulous.
Val smiled, proud of her appearance. "Just a little something I found in my closet." She felt a thrill of satisfaction at Alex's reaction, knowing she'd caught him off guard.
Alex's expression turned slightly disapproving. "I expected something a bit more... subtle. We're trying to make a good impression, after all."
Val's smile never wavered. "I'm sure I'll make an impression," she said, her confidence evident. She thought to herself, Why do I always have to tone it down for him? Can't I just be myself for once?
Alex glanced at his watch, his expression turning accusatory. "There's no time to get you changed, we have to go."
Val felt a surge of frustration at his words. Why was he always trying to control her? Couldn't he just accept her for who she was? She pushed the thoughts aside and followed Alex out the door, her heels clicking on the pavement.
As they entered the exhibition venue, Val wondered if anyone would even notice the art, or if it was all just a backdrop for the wealthy and trendy to see and be seen. She glanced around, taking in the crowd of people sipping champagne and pretending to admire the artwork.
"Is anyone actually looking at the art, or are we all just props?" Val voiced her thoughts, her voice low and sarcastic.
Alex shot her a warning glance. "Val, come on. Let's just play the part, okay?"
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