Author's Note: So, this is a one-shot I wrote yesterday. I'm still not sure if I like it, but I think it's pretty good overall. However, I didn't proofread it very carefully, so tell me if you notice any grammar issues. This was based on the song "Dancing With Tears in My Eyes" by Ke$ha. Kind of random, but whatever.
Dancing With Tears in My Eyes
Inspired by the song by Kesha Sebert
Charlene fidgeted in her spot, determined to stay calm. Determined not to show the judges and spectators how she really felt. Her stomach was doing acrobatics, giving her slight nausea. Her hands shook uncontrollably. On her left she could she one of the judges give her a sympathetic smile. She thought it was just nerves. How Charlene wished that were the truth.
The dance auditions for the Nutcracker were held every year at the beginning of October. Charlene's studio was only one of the many pulling off this production; it was a holiday classic. La Musique Dance Centre was an amateur studio, designed to train the next generation of ballerinas. It was attended by girls from ages 3-18, as well as a few high school boys looking for girlfriends (as if). Charlene had been dancing there since she was twelve; now she was sixteen, and she finally had a shot at Clara.
Like school plays she had taken part in, seniority did take play a role in the judges' decisions. Little girls would be bon-bons or mice; middle schoolers were party guests and Russian dancers. Only good roles such as the Arabic dancer, sugarplum fairy, and Clara were given to upperclassmen. Charlene had worked and waited for it. But what if she screwed it up, just because foolish assumptions?
Auditions were held in the Green Room, as Charlene and her friends liked to call it, a large room lined with bars and mirrors. At the back of the room, twenty teenaged girls stood, waiting silently for their turn. Each had a number clipped to their leotards. Charlene's, a black number 15, gave her the small comfort that she'd have time to regain her composure. But an unfortunate thing about time was that it had a habit of speeding up when it was least wanted to.
Number one was called to the front. She was a dark-haired Hispanic a few months younger then Charlene. She took a deep breath. As the music started, she preformed the combination the group had learned a few minutes earlier. Normally, Charlene would analyze the girl's moves, noting her mistakes and making mental notes not to do the same thing. But today she was distracted, staring in to space, remembering how it all began.
She ran through the park with him, laughing like a maniac. It was a wonderful day, and the beauty of the park seemed to reflect her mood. The tall palm trees waved and swayed with the gentle breeze, and the long—but not overgrown—grass tickled her ankles. Flowers grew in bushes, lining the paved path near them. He had skipped that particular route, opting for somewhere more private. She held the wicker basket in her hand, while he carried the blanket for them to sit on. They found a patch of grass by some benches, and set up to eat.
They had been hanging out a lot lately, though it was mostly riding home together after school. They went to different schools and participated in different activities, so finding alone time for the two of them was difficult. But it had been a half-day for all of the public schools in the county, so they took their chance and arranged the picnic.
They ate their subs and discussed various things in their lives: siblings who got on their nerve, teachers that made their lives miserable, celebrities that didn't deserve to be in the limelight. It felt so natural, speaking to him, so unlike the others boys she knew. They only paid attention to her because she was "hot," making crude jokes to her as some messed-up way of flirting. He didn't care about her looks, though he would assure she was pretty whenever she felt insecure. He acted like a gentleman around her, always caring about her well-being. She had liked him for years, though had admitted it to no one but herself. She had always convinced herself that it was Amanda he had set his eyes on, and she would never be in the running for his heart.
After they had packed up, he confessed his feeling for her, told her that he had never felt about a girl like he felt for her. He told her Amanda had just been a crush, but it was different now.
"Charlie," he started, using the nickname he had given her so long ago. "I really do like you, and maybe I'll screw it up by this, but... Do you want to go out with me?" He gave her a sheepish grin, as if it were silly of him to ask. She responded with a kiss.
"You're the sweetest boy I've ever met, Finn."
Number five was called, and Charlene once again felt herself struggling to hold back tears. It made her feel like crap, thinking about that day, when they kissed for the first time. But it was necessary to remember, to know how it began, to figure out how it all went wrong.
They lied down on the grass, side-by-side in the park they both loved so much. She had been learning about Astronomy in science class, and Finn had promised to take her stargazing ever since. His father had taught the constellations when he was younger, and now Finn was passing this knowledge onto her, pointing out Orion and Taurus in the night sky, explaining to her the stories that went with them. An unfortunate side effect of all of the light pollution in Orlando, very few stars could be seen, with only bright one like Sirius and Betelgeuse really had a fighting chance. Charlene didn't mind; she was holding hands with the one she loved.
Was it love? Lying down at night next to him, she knew it was true.
"Finn," She called his attention. Looking at his warm brown eyes, she whispered, "I love you." And even before he told her seconds later, she knew that inside, he loved her, too.
As number eight began to dance, Charlene wiped a tear from her eye. He had loved her, and she had betrayed him. Why had she believed that dog, instead of trusting the one she loved? Why had she let her fear and paranoia get the better of her, instead of handling the matter rationally and reasonably? Everything had smashed to dust, and it was all for the belief in one little white lie.
"Charlie," Amanda had confronted her one day after school. Finn and Charlene were nearing their two month anniversary, and she couldn't help but think of how blissful their time together. "I need to tell you something. It's really important."
Charlene tensed, wondering what news Amanda would bring. From the urgency in her voice, Charlene knew that whatever Amanda was going to say wouldn't be something she wanted to hear, but had to know.
"What is it?" Charlene asked. "What happened?" Amanda shook her head, not wanting to tell her.
"It's Finn..." She started slowly. "I know you guys are dating, so I pretty shocked to find out myself."
"What do you mean?" Charlene asked her anxiously. Amanda sighed.
"Finn... Finn's been cheating on you." She answered, and Charlene's heart felt like it had been thrown off the side of a mountain, only to smash gruesomely when it hit the ground.
"No!" She practically screamed. People were turning heads, but Charlene was too upset to notice. "It can't be!" She insisted. "You must have it wrong!" Amanda hung her head.
"I wish," She said guiltily, as if the whole thing was her fault. "I saw him kissing a girl yesterday at his locker at school." She explained. "I don't think he knows I saw... If he did, he probably would have stopped me from telling you."
Number nine was finishing, and number ten was now being called up. Tears were streaming down her face, turning her beautiful pale face into a tomato. Charlene continued to wipe her tears, but knew her complexion wouldn't return to normal until she got a grip on her emotions. She took a few deep breaths. Watching number ten, she remembered his reaction when he found out.
"Why did you do this, Charlene?" He demanded from her, his face red from hurt and anger. "You don't understand how much I cared about you! I loved you, and you stabbed me in the back!" Charlene was sobbing, confusion in her.
"H-how can you b-be angry at m-me?" She asked him. "Y-you cheated on me, I j-just got revenge."
"Cheated?" He asked, bewildered. "I never cheated on you! You're the cheater, Charlene!"
"B-but," She stuttered uncomprehendingly. "A-Amanda said—"
"Oh, don't go blaming this on other people!" He reprimanded. "You're sixteen years old! You have to learn to accept the blame." She wept, feeling like a kindergartener that had been sent to the corner of the classroom for misbehaving.
"So you didn't—?"
"Of course not." Finn answered. "I would never do something like that."
Gazing absentmindedly at number fourteen's performance, Charlene understood what had happened: Amanda, jealous of their relationship, had lied to Charlene about the infidelity, knowing how she'd react. She had been the one to tell Finn of Charlene's "payback", making her look as innocent as a fly. Amanda had been the cause of this, but as much as Charlene wanted to deny it, she wasn't the only one at fault. Charlene knew she should've talked to Finn straightaway when she heard, confirming whether or not it was true. Finn was honest; even if he had cheated, he would've told her in a heartbeat. But Charlene acted on her own impulse instead; kissing the guy from fourth period, not caring how fast the news would travel. Charlene should have done so many things that she hadn't done.
"Number fifteen."
Charlene stepped forward to the judges. It was her time to shine; she wouldn't let them down.
The combination came after the nutcracker's jaw had been broken. Charlene looked at the empty space on the floor. Instead of imaging a nutcracker, she imagined Finn and all the sadness and grief she had given him. But he didn't have a broken jaw, he had a broken heart. Charlene put her sorrow in her dance, thinking of how messed everything was and how beautiful it had once been.
She curtsied to the applause, and left the room. Walking in the hallway, she noticed a face she had never seen enter the studio before.
Finn was looking at her with an expression that told her that maybe things would get better, after all.
Author's Note: Read & Review! I might make this a series of one-shots inspired by music. What do you think?