The Generators

6. Magdalenea

Studio One was on the other end of Manhattan. From the outside, it looked like any other building in the East Village. It was a massive brick building with big windows and doors. The inside was unlike any place I'd ever seen; spacious, open, and beautiful. From the front doors, you could see all the way up, all eight floors. Studio rooms filled with glass, the little kids in their tutus, the afternoon sunshine streaming in from the windows and the constant pitter-patter of dancing feet.

I breathed in a deep breath, letting my mind embrace it all. This was the one place I was allowed to be something else, someone besides the sick one.

Mr. O pushed me towards the elevators, just as a class of toddlers jostled their way in with us. They were so excitable and cute. The chattered incoherently about their leotards and new shoes, not minding that we were even there. They got off at the second floor, flooding out into the waiting area to congregate with their little friends.

"I remember when you looked like that," Mr. O said as the elevator doors clicked shut after them.

"I don't," I mumbled wistfully, wishing I could go back and see myself, and do it all again somehow. They tell me that I was so wonderful back then, and sometimes, in moments like this, I almost believe them.

"One day you will."

And just like that, we'd made it to the top to the most brilliant part of the studio, the penthouse. Mr. O pushed me out into the clear open air of the penthouse, where I could hear the birds chirping and feel the sun on my face. I loved it when they let the windows open; it was almost the sensation of being out in the middle of the woods, away from the city in all of its glamor.

"Well look who finally made her grand entrance," said Estelle with a grin as she glided over to us. Estelle never walked. She seemed to dance on the air above the ground. To hover, to fly.

"You look as ravishing as ever Estelle," Mr. O said, kissing her hand.

Estelle's hand flew to her face as she blushed. "Oh, how I've missed you, O."

"And I you, darling," he replied with a grin.

I cringed for the billionth time. This? This back and forth they had. It was a staple of my life. One that, frankly, I could do without Mr. O and Estelle had had a flirtation for years. The will-they-won't-they act was getting old. Just get a room already.

After a few moments of doting on each other, Estelle finally turned to give me her full attention. "Hello to you too love, you look good today," she said with a genuine smile. It was part of the reason I loved her; Estelle never got too hung up about the complications of it all. The wheelchair? The medicine? The way I looked? She couldn't care less. The only thing that mattered to her was that I wasn't dead. Because that was all the hope she needed, and I liked that.

"It's one of the better days."

"The sun is shining; spring is here. It's a good day to be good." Estelle spread her arms wide into the air and took a deep breath. The breeze flowed through her wild lavender hair.

"I'll second that notion." Mr. O added with a flourish before giving us a slight bow. "Ladies, I've got errands to run. Bean my lass, be free. I'll come back soon. I expect to be amazed!"

"I'll try," I mumbled, watching him saunter towards the elevator door once again. Mr. O couldn't stay; he was a busy man after all. Being the keeper of me was a lot of work. Mr. O was normally rushing off somewhere fast when he'd drop me off at PT or any other therapy or appointment. But deep down I wish he would; I liked having someone watch me. I liked it when he'd tell me he was proud of me when I was done. Because other than this, I wasn't exactly Little Miss Awe-Inspiring.