Well here it is. I hope you lovelies enjoy! Maybe... I'll write more?
Note: Understand i have only seen season 7 once. I don't know much about Clara's past, and even if this isn't true, it's cute, eh?
The room was lilted with the sound of shuffling feet, the echoes of soft, nervous, ringing voices pleasing the ears of eager parents. The floor was hard and shining in fluorescent lights that caused the children to become easily overheated. Still, they danced.
Out of all the ducklings dancing the swan song, one was missing, curtains pulled to hide her in the rafters. Her dress seemed too tight to her, salty tears making her face puffy. She didn't like the way these shoes, with their cheap fabric, slid on the floor so easily.
Her eyes scanned the ground floor once more, her mind chasing irrelevant thoughts and problems while her subconscious kept her searching. He'd promised. He promised he'd be here.
Who was he? She had no idea. But she'd met him outside a night ago when the rain was heavy and the old, smelly bus was late. He'd talked to her while she waited, a funny bowtie and a big chin, his hair floppy.
Where was he? She didn't want to dance now. Hiding herself away in the rafters, the girl took off her shoes and tied the laces together, and left. She didn't want to dance now.
Once the lights had dimmed and the seating put away, the man standing in the shadows walked onto the creaking wooden steps up to the stage. His blazer barely hid his form, his noticeably silver hair- like Christmas tinsel- and always-angry eyebrows. He put his hands into his pockets as he looked up.
"Clara." A pair of old, children's shoes hung in the frame work, no time telling how long they'd been in the abandoned recital hall.