Title: Tutus with Feathers
Pairing: Maureen/Joanne
Rating: T
Summary: Maureen reminisces about her childhood and Joanne.
A/N: This was my first foray into the Rent fandom.
I didn't always want to be an actress. For the longest time, I wanted to be a ballerina. They were thin and graceful, and my sister said that everybody loved ballerinas. I wanted everyone to love me. I wanted to be a ballerina, too.
When I went to my first ballet class, I was the ugliest girl there. My hair was enormous; it was bigger than one of the girls, if you can believe it. And I was the tallest. Me! Maureen Johnson! Yes, I was the tallest. And the fattest, but my sister had warned me about that. My teacher was telling us all about positions and pirouettes, and all of the girls nodded as if they understood. And then the music began and the girls started dancing, so I danced too. I danced the only way I knew how, because I didn't understand what 'pirouette' meant. Hell, how could I have known? They don't teach French in the inner city. Unfortunately for me, the only dance that I knew was the chicken dance. So there I was, doing the chicken dance for all I was worth, and the other girls were obeying Madame's cries of "Balancé! Balancé!"
C'mon, do the chicken dance with me. You know you want to. Shake your ass a little; it'll loosen you up.
Anyway, it didn't take Madame long to realize what I was doing. She shrieked at me from across the room, and soon the music stopped and all of the girls turned to stare at me in the mirrors.
I hated those goddamn mirrors.
Madame told me, in front of everyone, that I was bat-shit crazy and that I would never be a ballerina. She said that it was good that I knew the chicken dance, because that was what I was: a vulgar little chicken. All of the girls broke first position to laugh at me, and I ran from the dance studio as quickly as I could. Nobody but my sister ever knew why I quit dance. Well, I guess that now you know, too.
I guess that's why I love Joanne so much. Not just because she loves me, and not because she makes me feel thin and graceful, but because even if I'm still a vulgar little chicken, she sees me as a ballerina.