Tony's (not so) Little Girl

1: Dancing for a Stark

It was but a few days until the concert, and I was in the midst of do much. I had just recently finished stiching up my costume mere hours before I was set to be at the studio, and I was running late. This was the last practice I had at the studio, and so I didn't even bother changing out of my school clothes properly (for although it was a Sunday, I had gone to perform with the school choir and cheer on the school band at an event that was held. My friend Emily, who played piano, did wonderfully). I ended up throwing on my leotard, skirt and a pair or socks and shoes before I had to run out the door, calling goodbye to my mother and sister as I ran out. As I ran down the street I pulled the zip lock bag of bobby pins from my bag, twisting my hair up into a bun net and then pinning it in place on the go. I was so exceptionally late, and it made me grimace.

By the time I ran into the old building and up he stairs I was panting ny lungs out, and ten minutes late. There was no one else in the room, with the owner and even principle of the dance studio in the very back room down at the bottom of the dtairs doing last minute costume checks and making sure everything we needed was already at the town hall where we would be performing. I mived from where I was leaning on the door frame to go a sit on one of the benches in the corner of the room to slip off my school shoes and slide on my salmon ballet slippers. My pointe shies made heavy noises as I walked across the room to plug my phone in. I was sliding up onto point to see if I had tied the ribbons tight enough, but I saw thst as no excuse for my shoes to be makung so much noise. I plugged my phone into the speaker and pressed shuffle play on my classical playlist, free music courtesy of Spotify. Once that was playing I turned it up just slightly and moved over to the bar that leant against the oposite wall of the room. Cracking my neck I dragged the bar across the floor until I made it to the center of the room, at which point I started to stretch and warm up. Despite my impromptu "I"m late, I'm late. Holy shit I'm late" run before I still needed to stretch to make sure I didn't hurt myself whilst dancing. Pulling a muscle or getting a cramp in the middle of a routine was painful, and most certainly not ideal.

Eventually I moved on from the warm up and just let the music flow through me as I danced, being precise yet also loose and flowy. This was the last practice I would get in the studio before moving across to the town hall for a final dress rehearsal with everyone else. At the moment I was dancing my major solo, crossing contemporary over with classical and pointe to create an amazing mixed dance. This year the dance school was performing a version of Alice in Wonderland, and I was chosen to play the part of Alice. In the beginning I auditioned for it just to spite my ballet teacher who was always telling me that I wasn't good enough, and then when I got the part I was ecstatic to find out that I wouldn't have to work with the teacher.

As the music stopped I colapsed gracefully to my knees, threw my arms out and my head up. Clapping was heard and I whipped my head around towards the doorway, my eyes bugging out. No one ever clapped for me before, unless onstage.

"You know," Mr Stark began "You're not the worst I've seen."
"Well when you're one of three people to audition for a role with a struggling dance school, you're likely to get the part," I explained

I walked over to the seats that line the edge of the studio and try to dig my water bottle and school shoes out of the bag. As I dug I muttered to myself about how average I was at dancing, just like everything else. Without even looking up I felt Mr Stark move across the room and come and sit next to me, risght as I was slipping iut of one pair of shoes and into the other.

"I'm assuming you know who I am," he said
"Yes, Mr Stark," I replied, turning around to smile politely "It would be hard not to. I'm Ashleigh, Ashleigh Average."
"You know, kid, I'm sure that there's something out there that you're good at," Mr Stark tried to explain
"Ummm," I hummed, pretending to thing "Nup. Not really. I'm just... average at a lot of things outside of academics, and no one likes a person who is smarter than them."

With that I stood up with my bottle in hand and my bag slung over my shoulder as I crossed to the other side of the room, where my phone sat attatched to the speakers. I pulled the cord out and slipped the both of them into my bag. I zipped my bag up and started to pull out the bobby pins from my hair, slipping them into a side pocket. By the time I had made it to the door way my hair was in a normal length pony tail.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr Stark," I smiled, turning to give the adult a small wave

As soon as I was out of the studio I closed the door and sighed, rubbing my hand across my forehead. Eventually I opened my eyes and began walking down the stairs and out the front door. I pulled it closed behind me and frowned down at my shoes, which I just noticed were slowly falling apart. I shivered and smiled a genuine smile as a small, bitter cold wind blew, stinging my arms, neck and face. With random thoughts on my mind I hurried home. I had to meet my friends Charlie and Analise in an hour and I needed a shower.