Chapter 03 –
Meg danced like a nymph that day. Madame Giry didn't say, but showed how proud she was. All the colleagues were badmouthing her after the class. Everyone was so jealous.
"Did you see how she sweated and flushed?" laughed La Sorelli, who had started the racket outside her room, which she shared with Little Jammes.
"We all did! And the stench!" screeched a brown-eyed ballerina.
Too late. Meg Giry had heard it all. And she was furious.
"Is there no sorority here?"
La Sorelli said, smirking:
"'Sorority?' Hah! Don't make me laugh! You are the one who are always on your own."
"I don't see the point. We never cared for each other."
All the ballerinas crowding the room were tense for a fight.
"Corelli, am I really stinking that bad?"
The brown-eyed ballerina ran out of the room in tears.
La Sorelli puckered her lips in anger. She should be the Prima-Ballerina! Not that brat!
Meg would fall now and right away.
"Oh, but if you talk about 'sorority', you should mingle! Be our friends. You never showed any interest. You act like a spoiled brat who already has everything he wants."
"I suppose..." Meg mused "I suppose that, if I'm that necessary, I could make myself more available..."
La Sorelli gave a piercing laughter and said to Meg she thought too high of herself. Meg got utterly confused, especially when even the youngest ballerinas started laughing at her.
The blonde ballerina was about to cry. But took a deep breath to recover.
"Well, you could teach me, Sorelli. Since you are available to all those rich men..." Meg smirked.
La Sorelli's green eyes bulged. She snapped and jumped on Meg, full of rage, pulling her cornsilk hair.
While Meg shouted, for Sorelli was taller and bigger than her, who was mignon, Cecille Jammes and other ballerinas ran for reinforcements. Madame Giry came as if on a Spaceship.
"What the hell is happening here?!"
"Mama!"
"Madame!"
She slapped both girls cheeks and gave them a punishment. They had to polish the silverware of the Opera.
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Meg entered her room snapping her bones after so much hard work. Then, her wardrobe opened and Erik came out of it.
Meg muffled a high-pitched scream.
"So, the daisies were all an act?"
She felt terrible, even though he had tousled all her clothes.
She sighed.
"Of course they were not an act. Erik. You just caught me out of guard."
"I brought this for you."
"Lilies?" she held the bouquet.
"I hate lilies."
"You do? Had I ever known, I would have asked what kind of flower you liked! Oh, my God!"
Meg couldn't believe she had said that out aloud.
"I'm-I'm so sorry. They're my Mother's favorite flowers and my Father was buried deep in them."
Erik was shocked. He didn't know how to react.
"I know. You don't have to say anything."
Without realizing, he boldly touched her hands. Her eyes filled. To break the tension, Meg invited:
"Erik, how about one of these days we make a picnic? You do need to eat."
He made a sour face.
"One of these days." he answered, full of tenderness.
