Title: Getting A Foot In The Door
Author: Keith
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Havisham Dance Academy
Pairing: Estella Havisham/Lizzy
Characters: Estella Havisham, Lizzy (Cartman's Silly Hate Crime 2000)
Genre: General/Light Romance
Rating: K
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 988
Type Of Work: One-Shot, Part Two of the Writer's Month 2022 Collection
Status: Complete
Warnings: Preslash, Femslash, AU - Ballet School, AU - Canon Divergent, Lizzy isn't dead/missing, Classism
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the concept.
Summary: Estella Havisham was not an easy woman to impress, but that didn't stop Lizzy from trying.
AN: Hey guys, it's me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a writing Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Tumblr/Twitter!
I'm trying to do Writer's Month this month and to keep myself working on these to hopefully get all of them done, I'm going to aim for 500 words or less.
I had some help from Perennex (Twitter)/Gozar (Ao3) to get the terminology and critiques correct, and I really appreciate it. I think it really added to the fic, because I was honestly at a loss for how to describe things. As I've never really interacted with ballet a whole bunch without being a spectator, I really didn't know what I was doing.
Getting A Foot In The Door
Estella Havisham was one of the largest critics of ballet, possibly in the entire world, only dwarfed by her mother's apparent ire for the practitioners. She was hard to please, and the school of dance she inherited was incredibly prestigious and one might even say downright pretentious. Not just anyone could get in, she only accepted the best. There would be no rewards for underdogs in her establishment, and that was just what everyone had to accept.
She rewarded nothing but perfection.
That was the entire reason that Lizzy Masters was nervous. Her ballet was good, but was it good enough? It didn't help that the second she saw Estella in her smart pencil skirt, the painted-on white shirt cupping her breasts, and the dark, open suit top, she just about fell over. The pristine, prim but practical black heels on her feet clicked against the cement floor of the auditorium as she found her seat, and Lizzy's heart began to hammer in her chest. Oh, oh she was exquisite, and seeing her in person was not helping the dancer's focus.
Sitting straight-backed and proper, the picture of poise, Estella placed her gold-framed glasses over her nose, peering over them at the first hopeful on stage. Lizzy was willing to bet that those glasses were twenty-four carat, but she kept the thought to herself. Such frivolous notions weren't helping her right now. No, she needed to concentrate, she needed the tunnel vision she had during practice, she had to get herself together.
The music began for the man ahead of her, and she turned her attention to him, watching his technique. While Lizzy could pick apart a few of his positions, noticing a couple of scant complaints, her eyes traveled back to Estella and her breath caught in her throat.
Estella quirked a brow at him as he danced, but otherwise, her expression was unreadable. Tapping her pen against her plump red lips, she finally glanced down to write something on the clipboard expertly balanced on her thigh. Her legs were crossed, likely to prop her notes up as she sat in the viewing area of the theater. That made it easier to watch the show as well as write, and it was just one more smart decision that Lizzy noted.
Estella Havisham was nothing if not bright in everything she did, perfect in ways no other living thing could ever hope for, and Lizzy Masters was noticing.
Stupidly fixated on every little thing, each tiny movement Estella graced them with, Lizzy didn't even notice when it was her turn. If only she'd been able to pick at the other dancer's performance more to mitigate making the same mistakes, but at least she was leaving an impression.
"Miss Masters?" Estella finally called, her posh British accent flavoring the question and making Lizzy's last name sound exotic and new. Her tone was commanding, and Lizzy followed her beckoning to the stage immediately, "I very much dislike being kept waiting, Miss Masters. You would do well not to make me wait again."
"Yes, ma'am." The reply was instantaneous, and Estella rose an eyebrow once more, adjusting her glasses on her nose.
"Very good, Miss Masters. Now, you are going to be dancing… Manon, Act I, yes?" Estella pointedly tapped her pen on the clipboard.
"Yes, ma'am. I've brought another dancer, as well. He isn't trying out." As if she had to state that. At her words, her partner sauntered onto the stage, taking up his place at one side of it in a chair. He held the feather pen prop in his hand but lacked a desk since this wasn't a production piece.
"Begin," Estella stated, tone devoid of emotion. The music began, somber and slow, and Lizzy started her sultry, jaunty dance forward. Her hand traveled beneath her chin and she gave a flirtatious smile, finishing her trek to the chair and leaning over it. She waxed and waned for a moment, before plucking the white plume from her partner's hand and tossing it into the air.
The British woman regarded Lizzy's steps, the placement of her arms and feet with a special interest in the multiple spins and leaps. There were a few things out of place that most people likely wouldn't have noticed, or maybe even cared about, but Estella's keen green eyes spotted every imperfection. Her mother had raised her to be cutthroat, discerning, and breviloquent, heartless in the worst way. She saw people as a way to improve herself, as tools and step ladders, and not for the living, breathing, feeling beings that they were.
Human Kindness was a tool, it could be used against the person offering it. Those who knew her well would say it in a heartbeat; If you offered gentleness, if you showed an iota of kindness, she would chew you up and spit you out without so much as a fake apology.
Anfractuous knees. The posture of a dog relieving itself on a fire hydrant. Estella's notes were insulting and to the point in equal measure as she nitpicked the other blonde, keeping her eyes on her over the rims of her glasses. Very pulchritudinous. Graceful despite flaws.
The second set of words surprised her just the same, and her brow drew in as she gazed at what she had last written. Usually, she didn't mind the looks of a person, but Lizzy had a petite build, and an elegant dancer's face, and Estella didn't much mind watching her with a keen eye.
Maybe, should no one rise above her.
The final few moves of her dance, the dramatic sliding to the floor and being drug against her partner as the music signaled the finality of the first act caught Estella's attention. Her head tipped, curiosity piqued, and she made another quick note to herself.
Elizabeth Masters. Two strikes of three, perhaps two strikes too many. Only time will tell.
AN: Okay, that was way too much fun to write. I'm having a lot of fun with this AU and writing these characters. I've never seen anything for them, and I know Lizzy is a very minor character, but I have really loved her for a long time. Until next time!
Prompt: word: chance | setting: dancer AU