The Edge of Light ✔️

Chapter One

E L E N A

"You're doing a great job, Lisa. Make sure to keep that spine straight."I hummed as I corrected one of my younger student's form. She let out a whine but complied.

"A little deeper or else you won't feel the stretch, Anna." I called towards one of my older students. With a pained expression she deepened her stretch. A satisfied smile played on my lips as I walked around my studio, trying to find somebody to assist but surprisingly all of them did exceptionally well.

"Alright, good job for today. Make sure to rest well and keep your feet warm. I will see you next week." I clapped my hands to grab their attention and all of them sighed in relief and in an instant all postures were back to bad. I couldn't help but giggle as they reminded me of myself. I myself started ballet only when I was five years young. The first 14 years I was in my prime. The youngest to have her debut in The Nutcracker. The most talented and hard-working. Though just as I started to actually enjoy myself and challenge myself everything came crashing down. My career as a dancer slipped right through my fingers. It was devastating at first. I couldn't accept it. Not in the hospital. Not months later when I was back at home. Not even as I visited therapy in the hopes that I could somehow better myself, save myself from this misery, from the after effects of the accident, to continue my passion. Now, it's almost been two years since I decided to become a ballet teacher instead. Just so I didn't have to fully give up my passion.

"Miss Rossi, can we please try the black swan choreography next time?" one of my younger students asked and I grinned at her, gently patting over her neatly styled hair. She was far away from performing a choreography like 'The Black Swan' but I couldn't bring myself to diminish that sparkle in her eyes.

"Sure, make sure to bring your pointe shoes next time." I told her and she squealed happily before rushing towards the dressing rooms with the others.

My eyes swept around the room only to fall on a small bundle in the corner. I frowned a little as I approached the little blonde girl.

"What is it that's bothering you, sweetie?" I asked as I eyed Anastasija. She wasn't the most talented but she was the most hard-working out of all of my students. She took a little more time to learn things than the others but once she learned she excelled in it.

"Miss Rossi, it's my feet, they hurt and they don't look so pretty anymore and also...I feel so bummed that I can't seem to catch up with the others."

I crouched beside Anastasija, my eyes softening as I listened to the young girl's concerns. I gently placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, my tone warm and encouraging.

"Anastasija," I began, "I understand that it's tough when things don't go as smoothly as you'd like. Ballet is about more than just perfecting each move; it's about patience and persistence. Your feet may be tired now, and your feet might not be as perfect as you'd like, but that's all part of the journey."

I gave the girl's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Look at how far you've come already. You work harder than anyone else, and that dedication shows in everything you do. Remember, every dancer has moments where they struggle, but it's those moments that make you stronger and better. Also take pride in your feet, they work so hard for you and enable you to perform nicely, don't think of them as 'not pretty'. Your feet look like real dancer feet. Just like mine."

Anastasija's eyes, still a bit downcast, began to brighten with my words. I continued, "So don't worry about catching up with the others. Focus on yourself and your own progress. The fact that you care so much about your dancing is what makes you truly special. Keep that spirit alive, and I promise you'll shine even brighter."

I smiled, my own pride evident in my gaze. "Now go on, get changed, and enjoy the rest of your day. You've earned it, and I can't wait to see what you'll do next."

Anastasija's expression transformed from one of doubt to a hopeful smile. "Thank you, Miss Rossi," she said, her voice filled with renewed confidence. She gave me a quick hug before rushing towards the dressing rooms with the others, her earlier worries forgotten.

I let out a sigh as I pushed myself back to my feet and dusted my hands off on my skirt. Now I let my eyes wander around the empty studio, ready to be tidied from today's session. I walked over to my phone which was still connected to the speaker and pressed the play button of my playlist. I didn't like silence. Ever.

Just as I started picking up the things the girls left behind I was cut off by a knock on the door. I straightened my posture as I watched the door creak open.

Every fiber in my body tensed up upon hearing his footsteps, smelling his cologne, and seeing his usual neat attire. I should've gotten used to the sight of my father by now, after all I have been living in the same house as him for more than 20 years but somehow I just couldn't. Maybe it was because I knew what kind of man he was behind that smile of his. Maybe because he tried to pull me into his world and get me to become just as lusting over power like he did. However he knew better than to hope for that. I'd never become like him. I'd never accept what he did and continues to do. I'd never strive for power so much that I'd hurt people and their families in the process.

"Elena, amore mio." he hummed as he approached with open arms. I ignored his attempt to embrace me and instead crouched down to pick up all of the tools the girls had used for their stretching.

"Is it urgent? I have to tidy up the studio" I dismissively asked. I could feel his demeanor change. He sighed in annoyance. I watched him from the corner of my eye.

"Not up for small-talk I see. Very well then. I have a very important meeting in a few minutes, so I expect you to be in your studio at all times until I come get you. Do not leave. Do not turn up the volume of your music. Be obedient. I'll be in the east wing. If something happens, text Luca, he'll come to you." Dad had always been very sharp and to-the-point. I nodded dismissively. The thought of calling Luca when I was in need gave me the creeps. He yearned for every alone moment with me he could get. Dad made him believe that one day I'd marry him. Poor him. Not happening. The person I'd call would either be Emilio, my older brother or I'd handle my business myself like always. Unfortunately Emilio was out of town, so I was on my own.

"When's Emilio coming back?" I asked, still not making eye contact.

"He is on a business trip. He'll be back by the end of the week. Don't call him and disturb him." was the last thing he said before he turned around and left. I let out a loud huff, trying to regain my calmness. He had always thought that I was a distraction for Emilio. It's also why he tried to get in between us so much.

I grabbed my phone and typed a text to our housekeeper asking for some chamomile tea before settling on one of the couches. I let out a hiss at the pain in my lower back, my eyes squeezed shut in agony. Sitting was one of the harder tasks for me, not even dancing strained my spine as much as sitting did. My knuckles pressed down on my lower back as I tried to massage the pain away.

It didn't take long for my tea to arrive with Solange. I asked her to stay and join me but she had some work to finish so once again I was left on my own.

The studio was quiet except for the faint echo of a piano still playing from the speakers. It was a sanctuary of mirrors and hardwood floors, untouched by the grime of the outside world.

The sudden urge to try it one last time overcame me. One last time. Maybe this time it won't hurt. I got up and stood by the barre, my once graceful movements now a memory as I adjusted the music, lost in thought. The room was dim, with the afternoon light filtering through dusty windows, casting long shadows across the floor.

My movements were methodical, a careful choreography of habits that had replaced my once-celebrated performances. I was a ghost of my former self, no longer able to dance professionally due to that cursed injury, but still driven to move. This space, filled with echoes of applause and dreams, was now my refuge.

Then I heard it.

My body tensed at the sound of wood cracking. I looked over my shoulder to find a pair of eyes looking right at me from the shadows. I didn't let my surprise show. Ever. I withstood the stranger's intense gaze until he stepped away, back into the darkness.