A/N: This is the first chapter of a story that is slowly but surely starting to develop in my head. Please review and tell me if you like the general idea. This is a topic I hold dear to my heart, and hope it portrays well enough in the story. Read and Review!

Just Dance Chapter One

New York City is one of the greatest places for opportunities in the world. The city is so individualistic, so full of life and energy; it just rubs off on you. I couldn't tell you how many times Renee told me to go to Arizona State, and how many times Charlie tried to convince me that University of Washington was the way to go. When I received my acceptance letter to Juilliard School of Dance, I disregarded both of my parents and pursued my dream, moving to New York.

Dancing has been my passion ever since I was little and Renee started me in ballet lessons. Over the years, I acquired a passion for jazz, dance team, and hip hop. All I ever wanted to do in life is dance. My freshman year of high school, I made captain of the varsity dance team. They put my name in the school records because never before had a freshman made it onto the dance team…nonetheless make it to be captain. My passion for dance and music kept me happy through my lonely years of school, but I hoped to expand my social network by broadening my horizons in the Big Apple.

By my sophomore year, ballets from across the globe wanted me. Even though I'm now a senior, I can't decide. They've been bugging me for answers, but I can't give them one yet. Part of me wanted to dance with a famous ballet, but the other part of me wanted to share my love for dance with kids and open up my own studio. Sitting at my desk, I stared at the letters from the Russian Ballet, the New York City Ballet, and several facilities I could rent for studios.

My cell phone rang. I let it ring a couple of times (too busy staring at my options) before I finally picked up the phone and looked at the ID. Oh, God.

I flipped it open. "Hello?" I said, hesitantly.

"Hey Bella! It's Mike," his annoying, peppy voice didn't change over the phone. He has been chasing after me since my freshman year. The guy couldn't take a hint. I'm married to dance. Guys are just distractions from my goals in life.

"Hey Mike. What's up?" I said not-so-enthusiastically. My monotonous tone didn't affect him at all.

"So did you figure out what role you were going to be in the show?" He sounded oddly excited. Goosebumps began to creep over my skin at the ideology behind his words.

"Yes. I'm Juliet." The department decided to do a classic this semester: Romeo and Juliet. But because the situation I felt myself sinking into, I might want to switch parts with Lauren and be the evil mother instead…even though I don't perform the evil roles that well.

"You'll never guess what role I got." He sounded so smug. He thinks I'm a total moron. Everyone saw the list…only he was out "sick" that day (*cough* hung over *cough*), so he was the only one who didn't see the cast list. Unlike most of the girls at the school, I look through the entire list instead of just looking at my own name.

"Just as a wild conjecture, I'm going to say that you got Romeo." I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. This is just the kind of motivation Mike needs to stalk me again.

"You bet! So I guess that means we will be working together," he sounded too happy in my opinion.

"I guess so. Well, I have a bunch of dance history homework in front of me that is calling to get done, so I have to hang up now." I hated talking with Newton.

"Oh, Stevenson's class? He doesn't check the homework. Why bother doing it?" The guy was a great dancer, sad to admit, but he was a serious slacker. Performance was the only As he got in his classes. He doesn't understand that people like me enjoy not only performing dance, but studying it too. Also, you don't just magically have the answers to the tests in your brain.

"I know, but, I really have to go. Bye." I shut the phone and shut it off, throwing it onto the bed. I already finished my homework for the weekend last night, so I put away the letters and the pictures of facilities and decided to take a break. Picking up my dance bag, I grabbed my iPod and left for the dance studio.

When I walked outside my dorm room, I saw a freshman girl making out with one of the junior boys. The unfortunate part of living in a dorm with both guys and girls is running into such sights. I passed the floor's commons and got into an elevator, closing the door as soon as I was in. On the ride down, I put the iPod in my ears and started listening to some dance music.

The cold New York wind welcomed me when I stepped outside the dorm. No, I didn't like the fact that I didn't own any means of transport, but I wasn't ashamed that I couldn't afford it. Hard work goes a long way in life, and being raised on a teacher's salary and switching to a policeman's salary your junior year of high school, you learn the value of the dollar. My sweat pants and thick winter coat protected me from most of the cold, but my hair, still in a sloppy pony-tail, whipped with the wind, making my entire head feel cold.

Nearly four blocks of walking and I finally made it to the dance hall. When I first got here, I had never seen anything more beautiful than the performance hall here. Juilliard obviously put a lot of money and effort into making their theatres look beautiful. I walked past the theatre and opened up one of the unoccupied rehearsal rooms. I sat down next to the bar and put on my jazz shoes. Normally, I chose ballet over jazz, but I really needed something to excite me. I feel so bored.

After my jazz shoes were on, I adjusted my pony-tail and slipped off my winter coat and sweat pants, revealing my jazz capris and my favorite Anberlin t-shirt. I took the iPod out of my ears and plugged it into the stereo, clicking on my "Jazz" playlist. When I hit "play," Jennifer Lopez's "Let's Get Loud" filled the room. A good warm-up song to get me a little amped.

I faced the mirror and started dancing to the music, making sure my arms looked strong, but graceful at the same time, that my toes pointed, and that my body moved fluidly. Every muscle in my body seemed to wake up and allowed me to bend and sway. Years of dance study allowed me to create dances on the spot without repeating the same moves over and over again. A mixture of Calypsos, Fuentes, pirouettes, kicks, and leaps decorated the routine.

After the playlist ended, I switched to pointe. The music sounded calming, and it's just what I needed to have a clear mind to make all these decisions by the end of the year…or sooner. Swan Lake swam in my ears and practiced one of my old routines. Swan Lake was my first ever performance where I was the prima ballerina. Renee was so proud of me, and I loved being in the center of the stage and performing an original routine, doing something different from the rest of the girls on stage. Yes, the routine was a bit amateur, but it still contained grace. Unlike most of the girls, my pointe shoes were black. Pink didn't really look good on me. After the costume designers took in my measurements, they came back with deep reds, blues, and passionate colors, but never pink. They told me my passion for dancing couldn't be described with such an average color.

On one of my turns, I saw a face at the door. I stopped dancing. The face at the door could only be described as undeniably beautiful. His eyes were so green, his hair the color of bronze, and his sharp cheek bones made him look older than he probably was. His pale skin was illuminated by the lights, resembling mine. When I began to walk towards the door, he walked away.

I quickly ran to the door and opened it. He was still walking down the hall.

"Hey," I called out. He turned around. His body looked so lean and graceful. For a split second, I wondered if he danced. His eyebrows went up. "Come here." He started walking back towards me.

Never before have I done this. I don't know what possessed me to call him back, but something inside me told me to. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't just let it pass and pretend that it never happened. Drawing attention to myself off stage is not something I like to do. Dance is life and priority, social life is non-existent.

He smiled for me when he walked up. "I'm sorry," he said right away. "I was just looking for my sister and instead I found you." He looked a little embarrassed.

I folded my arms across my chest and smiled. "Well, part of me is glad my dancing catches attention. The other part is thinking, 'why the hell is someone staring at me through a window'. So I guess I should ask if you like what you saw." Normally, I don't talk this much either.

"I loved what I saw," he said without hesitation. "You are a very talented dancer."

I looked over his body again. "Do you dance?" I asked.

He laughed. It was one of the most enchanting sounds I ever heard. His melodious tone, not too loud, rang in my head long after he stopped. "No. I know the basics of ballroom, thanks to my mother, but I'm more of a musician myself." His body seemed to relax at the familiar topic.

We shared an interest. Though, most people who attend Juilliard have one similar interest: the arts. "Oh, what instrument do you play?"

He showed me his hands. His long, slender fingers explained themselves. "As you can probably tell, I play the piano."

Because piano is such a popular instrument to play, it's very difficult to get into Juilliard because so many people think they have mastered the instrument enough to get in. The admission committee is brutal towards the people who admit their audition tapes. Those hawks scrutinize everything. I should know; they do the exact same thing for dance. So when you get accepted for playing the piano, you've got to be good. "You must be pretty amazing then." I commented.

He looked at me with admiration. "I'm not as good at piano as you are at dancing." I blushed. I received many compliments for my dancing, but for some reason, hearing it from such a handsome guy affected me a little more.

I felt a little tension. "So you said you were looking for your sister. Who is she?" I thought of all the people that might look similar to him. In all my classes, I don't think I've seen anyone like him.

"Her name is Alice, Alice Cullen." He said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. I understood why. I laughed and he grinned sarcastically at me. "Obviously you know her."

Who didn't in the dance department? That girl was the life of every party. We all called her Pixie for her size and her sense of style. She looked so tiny, barely four-ten, but she could dance. I was a little surprised when she didn't get the part of Juliet for the performance. She looked the part.

"Yes," I said, sobering up a little bit. "But I don't know your name." I stuck my hand out. "Bella Swan." He took my hand in his. I did not expect to feel a shock go through my entire body, and I certainly did not expect to enjoy it as much as I did.

"Edward Cullen." I noticed he didn't let go of my hand. We stared at each other in the eye, not feeling the least bit uncomfortable. He reluctantly pulled his hand away. "What year are you?"

"I'm a senior." He looked a little shocked. I couldn't fathom why. I chuckled. "Why do you look so shocked?" He smiled crookedly. My heart did a little pitter-patter.

He looked at me in the eye again. "You just don't look like a senior. How old are you?" His eyes were filled with interest. Nobody had ever really taken an interest in me. Mostly, they just talked about my dancing.

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a woman's age?" He blushed and scratched his head. I laughed. "I'm just pulling your leg. I just turned twenty-two."

He smiled. "I'm twenty-two," he informed me.

"Ah, so you're a senior, too?" He didn't look like a senior either…maybe a senior in high school.

He nodded. "Yes."

Our talk was interrupted by a high pitched, "Edward!" Alice, in her black leotard, pink tights and skirt, and ballet shoes, started running towards us. She stopped before colliding into Edward and smiled up at us. "Bella," she smiled and waved. "I see you've met my brother."

I smiled. "Yeah. He came looking for you but found me instead." She giggled. Something hit me. "Wait, aren't you a senior, Alice?" She nodded. I looked back and forth between the two siblings. They looked nothing alike. They seemed to understand the confusion.

"Our parents adopted us when we were very young. Both of my parents died of cancer and hers went to the psych ward." He said it so conversationally. You'd think that people who were remotely associated with those kinds of people would feel a little sensitive about it.

"Wow," my genius response, "that's deep." They both laughed.

Alice waved it off. "We were both too young to remember. Carlisle and Esme are the only parents we've known." She got off topic right away. "Congratulations on getting the lead part, by the way." She smiled a genuine smile.

I blushed a little when Edward widened his eyes and looked at me. "Thanks," I said meekly.

Understanding flashed in his eyes. "Oh, so you're the prima ballerina that's been reigning for the past four years."

He didn't need to put it that way. "Well, I've gotten most of the parts, but a lot of other girls get a chance too. There is equal opportunity for everyone."

Alice scoffed and Edward and I looked at her. She explained. "Bella is modest Edward. She is probably the best dancer here, that's why she keeps getting the parts. She's the only dancer on a scholarship with a four point oh grade point average. Not only can she dance, but she's a genius, too." Why does everyone glorify me?

I shook my head when Edward turned to me in surprise. "No, I just like to study dance. If you think I spend hours in my room just studying to get an A on the next test, then you're wrong." I spend most of my time cooped up in there trying to make a life decision.

He smiled to himself. "Alright, whatever you say. So I guess that means you are just naturally brilliant, huh?"

"No! I just do the homework like we're supposed to. A lot of kids think that just because teachers don't check the homework, it means we don't have to do it." I'm not a genius. If you want a genius, go Google a picture of Albert Einstein. I hate how this discussion is all about me.

Alice rolled her eyes. I glared at her to send her a message saying, "shut the hell up." She got the message. She moved onto Edward. "So, what do you need Edward?" She asked. It took him a second before he could tear his gaze away from me. She looked at him expectantly for an answer.

"Oh, um," he struggled to collect his thoughts. "Mom and Dad wanted to have dinner with us tonight. They wanted me to pick you up." He glanced at his watch. "And we have about an hour and a half before Mom puts the food on the table. So are you coming?" She nodded.

"Yeah, let me just go get my stuff in the other room." I started to turn around and leave, knowing it was time for me to get back to dancing. Alice called after me before I could open the door. "Hey, I'll see you later, right?" She looked so hopeful with her wide eyes.

I laughed. "Sure. I'll see you on Monday. You have Ms. Graham for modern four right?" She nodded. "Okay, so I'll see you then." She waved bye.

"I'll see you later Bella," Edward said as he passed.

"See you," I called back. I certainly hoped I would. When I walked back into the room and turned the music back on, I felt a sudden clarity of mind. My moves became more fluid, more confident, like I knew exactly what I was going to do next. One of my Nutcracker suites came on and I calypsoed across the floor, having the time of my life.

Everything seemed so clear. It's almost as if talking to Edward really allowed me to think clearly. I packed up my things, and left the classroom. All the way back to my dorm room, I smiled. I wondered how I could've spent so many hours, just staring at those sheets of paper, wondering what in the world I was going to do with my life. The answered seemed so simple now. For some reason, I couldn't come up with an excuse for pondering so long on what one thing I wanted to do with my life. All of a sudden, a myriad of opportunities opened in front of me.

On instant, I entered my dorm room and dug out my invitations with numbers and addresses. Picking up my cell phone, I dialed the given number. The phone rang three times.

"Hello, this is Ballet Master in Chief Peter Martins, how may I help you?" His deep voice seemed calm and compelling.

"Hello. My name is Bella Swan. I received an invitation to join your company after I graduate from Juilliard, and I am just calling to confirm the invitation." There was dead silence on the other line. "Mr. Martins?" I asked tentatively.

"Oh!" He chuckled. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little shocked. This is wonderful! I've been meaning to talk to you Miss Swan, but I never got the chance. So you would like to come and dance with our ballet when you finish school?" He seemed overjoyed to hear my decision. "I heard of news that you also received an invitation from the Russian Ballet. I'm just the slightest bit surprised you chose us!"

"Well, I decided that I need to have roots near home, so I decided the prestigious New York Ballet would be my best choice. It's the right choice for me." I affirmed him.

He sighed with relief. "I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to hear you say that. We would love to have you in our company. We don't have to discuss any of the details right now that can wait for the spring since you aren't even with us until summer."

I tossed the Russian Ballet invitation back into my drawer. "I appreciate that you are letting me complete my education Mr. Martins."

"Oh, no problem," he assured me. "We want our dancers to learn as much about dance as they can before coming to dance with us. So, we will be hearing from you in the spring?"

"Without a doubt," I said confidently.

"Wonderful. Okay, well we will keep in touch. Thank you very much for choosing us. It really is an honor having you with us." I didn't understand what was so special about me that everyone wanted.

"Au contraire, Mr. Martins, it is an honor to dance with you and your company. Thank you." It amazed me how sure I seemed of myself. If you asked me two hours ago what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, I wouldn't have been able to tell you. Now, I can tell you my plan for the next five years.

"No, thank you. Goodbye Miss Swan."

"Goodbye." I shut the phone and breathed. I could see my entire life planned out in front of me. Two years of dancing with the New York Ballet and I'd have enough money saved to open up my own dance studio. Two years of dancing with them and I'd have my take on the professional dancing world. After I'm done, I'd open up my own studio and share my passion for dance. I couldn't think of a better way to live life than to spend it doing something you absolutely love to do. What else would I need besides my dance shoes and my costumes?

My "Yellow" by Coldplay ringtone interrupted my daydreaming. Checking the caller ID, my mood died.

"Hello?" I answered casually. I didn't know what to expect out of this conversation.

"Bella, sweetie!" My mother cooed. "How are you?" She had been trying to call me a couple of times these past few months, but I usually ignored the phone calls because they were just a diatribe on how I need to go back home and be with family. The last one I took she wanted me to go to school in Phoenix to become a writer. I started laughing.

"I'm actually doing great. I just confirmed with the New York Ballet that I'd be dancing with them after I graduate." I knew the news would be a downer on her peppy mood, but she needed to accept the fact that this is what I will be doing for the rest of my life.

She seemed to be in shock. "Th-That's great, Bella!" She didn't sound too sincere. "Don't you want to take a break; you know, come home and see family?"

I felt bad for ignoring my mother for all my years in college, and after leaving her to live with my dad in Forks, Washington, but she always wants to shelter me and keep me caged up. She never understood that I hate feeling like I'm in a cage. Dancing and Renee never seemed to come in the same sentence, unless it was, "Oh my goodness! Did you hear? Renee's daughter is the prima ballerina dancing at Juilliard!" I got that one last time I visited her in Phoenix over a year ago.

Since I'm not good at lying, I told her the truth. "Mom, they want me there as soon as I'm out of school. I'll send you tickets if you want to come and see me, but I have no intentions of leaving New York anytime soon." She grew silent.

"Bella," I knew that tone. Mentally preparing myself for The Speech, I pressed play on my iHome and listened to more Coldplay and lay back on my twin bed. Here it goes. "I don't understand why you'd abandon your family like this!" She sounded flustered like always. "Neither Charlie or I have seen you in over a year because you want to dance. We've made a lot of sacrifices so that you could move to New York and dance at Juilliard. You've done that. So don't you think you could make a sacrifice and come and see your poor parents?" She's going to try the guilt trip. "You've done what you wanted, now come home."

As always, I answered, "No. Mom, I refuse to restrict myself from becoming a better dancer. I've come this far, and I don't plan on stopping until I feel I've reached my limit and feel that I'm done. Even if you tell me I'm done, I'm not done until I say so." My angry tone employed that I would not take any demands from her. A long time ago, I established that dancing is my passion, and that neither heaven nor hell could prevent me from doing that. "It's about time you accepted that. As always, I will send you tickets. I'll talk to you later." I shut the phone.

I closed my eyes and ran through everything.

My name is Isabella Marie Swan. I prefer Bella. I am the daughter of Renee Dwyer and Charlie Swan. At the age of six I started dance classes in Phoenix and fell in love. When my mother got remarried the year I turned seventeen, my dancing sunk to the bottom of her list of priorities. Instead of fighting with my mother, I moved to Forks, Washington to live with my father. He supported me a lot more than Renee did, and encouraged that I chased after my dreams. He didn't expect me to chase them as far as New York. He tried to convince me elsewhere, but I knew Juilliard was the only place for me. For three years I studied the art of dance and excelled in all my classes. All that mattered was that I was learning more and more about what I loved more than anything in the world. My freshman year, I became prima ballerina for Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and received attention from minor dance companies. My sophomore and Junior year is when I got bigger. So here I am, my senior year, I left my parents to achieve what I wanted in life, and dancing with the New York Ballet next summer.

Sometimes, life is too good.

A/N: So? Yay or Nay?