Masquerade Ballet

Three

A/N: What's up my followers and faithful readers? I hope life is going well for you all. I finally, finally, finished this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it. Never fear, our tomato son will be added soon, in case you were wondering, as will Alya, and our great friend Chloe. Also, do you like the new cover? So anyway, I won't hold you up. Read away!

Stepping into the classroom, I acknowledged the panel of judges with a brief bow, then took my place in the far corner of the room for my beginning pose. Once again I could feel my heart in my throat as I waited for the pianist to begin, my hands shaking in the slightest. 

The weight of the upcoming audition suddenly dawned on me. If I didn't get the part, I would probably be working on sets with Nathanael, on junior light crew with Nino and Alix, or be out in ensemble. I didn't mind any job, I liked all of them actually, but this ballet was the one I had wanted to star in for a very long time. 

Light piano notes began drifting through the air, and I quickly snapped to attention, pushing the boundaries of the choreography to show what I could do. My feet came alive beneath me without having to tell them to move, and the choreography and corrections faded into the music. It was only me and the piano; no judges, no sore feet, no pins jammed into my head, no crying toddlers in pink leotards. 

When I finished, I curtsied, not daring to look at the judges this time. Too much rode on this piece, and though it had felt great, that didn't mean that I hadn't made mistakes. 

Finding a bench I pried my shoes off my feet before tucking them into my dance bag. Now began the waiting.

I plopped down on the bench outside, watching cars come and go. None of them were my mom's pink convertible. Pulling out my phone, I read a text from her that said, "we have a cakemergency, could you get another ride?" I loved my mom and all, but couldn't we spare twenty minutes? Frustrated, I sighed, haphazardly chucking my phone in my bag. Seeing as the parking lot was nearly empty, I began the trek to the bus stop, where I would have to wait ten minutes before actually getting on the bus, then having to walk another four blocks back to the bakery I called home. My feet already ached, and I was dreading the walk back a lot more than I should. Maybe It was Manon's screeching, or maybe I was just tired. Regardless, I wanted nothing more than to be sitting at home and scrolling through Instagram. 

Instead I had to walk home. 

"Marinette!" a voice called. Turning, I saw Adrien, panting and hair windswept. "Do you need a ride home?" 

"No, it's fine," I started, knowing that yes, I needed a ride, but I didn't want to make him go out of his way. I was tired, not unable. 

"I saw you check your phone then start walking, are you sure?" 

"I can just catch the bus and--" 

"No! I insist, let me take you home. Besides, I have some explaining to do." I gave him a quizzical look. "Why I was laughing earlier," he explained. 

I followed him to his limo, stepping inside and sitting as Adrien consulted the driver. "Where do you live?" he asked, sticking his head through the open window. 

"Rue Goubet," I answered, watching him turn back to the driver. When he finished explaining, he climbed in beside me, despite the fact that he could sit virtually anywhere. The car began moving and I held tighter to my bag which was on my lap. 

"Okay, explaining time," he began, looking over at me. "So just take a minute and look at you wandering around the theatre through my eyes. I saw a teenage girl consoling a sobbing child who had drool dripping down her pink leotard with both of her hands stuffed in her mouth. Now tell me that isn't hilarious," he finished. 

"It's not funny! Manon was terrified," I objected, trying to keep a smile off my face. 

"Yes it was," he grinned. 

"Nope." 

"Yup." 

"No way." I could feel the smile growing on my face. 

"Yeah way." He was smiling too, his green eyes crinkling in happiness. 

"I refuse to laugh." I was desperately trying to keep the giggles out of my voice. 

"Just give in, Marinette," he sighed, rolling his eyes. 

"Never!" I squeaked, swallowing a snort. 

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" 

I only nodded, afraid that if I opened my mouth a deluge of laughter would burst from my lips. 

Then Adrien started laughing. I lost it. One of the ugliest noises I had ever made was coming from my lips, but in that moment, I didn't really care. I was happy, I wasn't worrying about being the best, getting the role, doing school. I was just happy. 

By the time Adrian dropped me off, I had wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and caught my breath. "Thanks again!" I said as I stepped out of the car, giving a short wave. 

When I stepped into the bakery, the aroma of baked goods and coffee invaded my senses, causing my shoulders to droop and my stomach to growl in anticipation. 

"Welcome to Dupian-Cheng Bake-- Oh! Marinette! How did it go?" my mom greeted as she stuck her head around the corner that led to the bakery's kitchen. 

"I... I don't really know," I answered, walking behind the counter and kissing her cheek. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean it felt awesome, but that doesn't really mean anything, considering that I wasn't paying attention to my technique." 

"That makes sense. But I'm sure you did wonderful." 

"Thanks, Mama." I hugged her quickly, then released her when the front door opened, announcing a new customer with a jingle. "I'll be upstairs if you need me," I offered as I mounted the stairs to the living room. 

Flopping on the couch, I buried my face in the cushions while letting out a sigh. Once again, I had to wait, this time without texting Nathanael or calling Alya. It was torture, and I couldn't stand it. How long would it take for a person to decide who would be the lead? We would all find out before midnight tomorrow, according to Mme. Gertrude, but knowing her, I would get the email at 11:59 p.m. Frustrated, I rolled to stare at the ceiling, trying to pacify my impatience. 

Calm down, I told myself. It'll come eventually. It'll tell you that you either A, got the part; B, are in ensemble and what group I was in; (to keep everyone's identity concealed you were assigned a group, even if you were in ensemble,) or C, I would be on sets or lights. None of those were bad, so why was I so nervous? Yes, I had wanted this role for what seemed like my entire life, but if I didn't get it this time, I was sure I could audition for the ballet again, later, when my technique was better. 

I could always just try again, I argued. Don't stress yourself out so much. 

It was hard to ignore the possible success though.