*Disclaimer*: "Black Swan", its storyline, and its characters do not belong to me. Aronofsky is a genius and I could only dream of writing something as brilliant as his work. Only Charlotte Carter and some other minor made-up characters are mine. Plot is drawn from inspiration from the movie.
Chapter 1
It was a beautiful Monday morning, and the sun had just risen over Manhattan. A rare shade of peace and calm still surrounded the city, but not for much longer.
Charlotte was pretty much out of breath. She had been up early, and went out jogging. It was the least she could do to keep herself in shape. After all, she spent most of the day at work sitting down. Her arms looked great, but it just wouldn't do for the rest of her body to be all flabby. Not that she was, but exercise was welcome.
She glanced at her watch. She would be late if she didn't get a move on. With a look of newfound determination on her face and a renewed burst of energy, she sprinted the rest of the way back to her apartment, her lean figure whooshing past the sleepy black suits that had begun to emerge.
Back in her apartment, Charlotte hurriedly boiled some water, made some toast and went to rinse off. The flat was small, but that was all right because she lived alone. In the shower, she hummed to herself and looked down at her hands, stretching each finger deliberately as hot water splashed over her body. Swan Lake. The company's first production of the season was in two weeks. She dried herself off and pulled on a pair of jeans and a grey sweatshirt. Comfy.
Minutes later, Charlotte was on the subway with a thermos of tea in one hand, toast in the other, earphones blaring Tchaikovsky, and violin case slung over her shoulders.
"Next stop, Lincoln Center."
Ahead of Charlotte, a girl in a long pink coat with her hair in a neat brunette bun stepped off. She had an upright posture that exuded grace, but at the same time held a strong touch of anxiety. Must be one of the ballerinas, Charlotte thought to herself. Perhaps a soloist. They all get antsy this close to the show.
They reached the stage door together, and Charlotte opened it for them both.
"Thanks," said the ballerina. She had a scared look and a soft voice of uncertainty.
"No problem," replied Charlotte with a reassuring smile. "First day on the stage, huh? You have fun out there."
The ballerina let out a small nervous giggle, smiling slightly for the first time. Maybe she found something funny in what Charlotte had said—something ironic, even. She glanced over, nodding at Charlotte's violin case.
"You too," the ballerina said shyly before darting away.