" Meg Giry." I stepped forward.
"Have you prepared an audition piece?"
Audition Piece? A dance? I had not. I wanted to sink through the floor, and leave this sudden nightmare behind.
Instead, I nervously confessed, "Not exactly. But if you put on some music, I am sure I can improvise."
This they did, and taking a deep breath, I began. Gradually I forgot everyone was there, watching me, and I strictly paid attention to dancing. Unconsciously I made sure my technique was perfect, my performance original, with no repetitiveness. When the music ended, so did I.
Once again, I was sent to the cloakroom, this time alone. My cheeks burning with shame, I scolded myself for not being more prepared. In my head, I head my mother's words to me this morning.
"Remember, you are only twelve. You have gotten so far with your training, but do not feel sad if you are not chosen. There will be several years and chances to join the corps de ballet."
Tearfully I had asked, "Then why make me go at all today?"
She had answered, "Because it is good for you, to audition. Whether you get in or not, it is a good experience. Do not worry, you will be wonderful."
Well. I certainly did not feel wonderful right now. Tears threatened to spill as I sat thinking.
Just then, the doorknob turned, and as one of the girls entered, I brushed at my eyes and turned to face my intruder. The girl was very pretty, I noticed. Tall, slender, with large green eyes, and thick dark eyelashes, she had a childlike appearance. Her long hair, which was dark as well, curled in ringlets and framed her face. Held back by a scarlet ribbon, they bounced as she walked towards me.
Extending her hand, she smiled shyly and said, "You were wonderful."
I accepted her pale hand and replied, "Thank you. Good luck."
The young girls hesitated for a moment, and then sat down next to me. "I am Christine Daae, and you are?"
"Marguerite Giry, but everyone calls me Meg," I supplied.
Christine studied me a few minutes before speaking. "I don't believe I have seen you here before."
"I have just moved here from Italy, with my mother."
Christine nodded understandingly. "I moved a few months ago with my father, from Sweden." That would explain the slight accent, I reflected.
Breaking into my thoughts, she continued, "You are quite pretty. Pardon me for asking, but how old are you? You look rather young.
"Just twelve. I started dancing very young." Christine's comment on my looks surprised me, considering I was very plain.
Christine smiled again, braver this time. She repeated, "You are good."
Our conversation was then ended. The former ballet mistress came in and told us that both Christine and I had been chosen for the corps de ballet. Christine nodded as if she had known all along, and I serenely smiled, though inside I wanted to announce the fact to all Paris that I, Meg Giry, belonged to a company! After we had been told some regulations and instructions, we were excused.
"Have you prepared an audition piece?"
Audition Piece? A dance? I had not. I wanted to sink through the floor, and leave this sudden nightmare behind.
Instead, I nervously confessed, "Not exactly. But if you put on some music, I am sure I can improvise."
This they did, and taking a deep breath, I began. Gradually I forgot everyone was there, watching me, and I strictly paid attention to dancing. Unconsciously I made sure my technique was perfect, my performance original, with no repetitiveness. When the music ended, so did I.
Once again, I was sent to the cloakroom, this time alone. My cheeks burning with shame, I scolded myself for not being more prepared. In my head, I head my mother's words to me this morning.
"Remember, you are only twelve. You have gotten so far with your training, but do not feel sad if you are not chosen. There will be several years and chances to join the corps de ballet."
Tearfully I had asked, "Then why make me go at all today?"
She had answered, "Because it is good for you, to audition. Whether you get in or not, it is a good experience. Do not worry, you will be wonderful."
Well. I certainly did not feel wonderful right now. Tears threatened to spill as I sat thinking.
Just then, the doorknob turned, and as one of the girls entered, I brushed at my eyes and turned to face my intruder. The girl was very pretty, I noticed. Tall, slender, with large green eyes, and thick dark eyelashes, she had a childlike appearance. Her long hair, which was dark as well, curled in ringlets and framed her face. Held back by a scarlet ribbon, they bounced as she walked towards me.
Extending her hand, she smiled shyly and said, "You were wonderful."
I accepted her pale hand and replied, "Thank you. Good luck."
The young girls hesitated for a moment, and then sat down next to me. "I am Christine Daae, and you are?"
"Marguerite Giry, but everyone calls me Meg," I supplied.
Christine studied me a few minutes before speaking. "I don't believe I have seen you here before."
"I have just moved here from Italy, with my mother."
Christine nodded understandingly. "I moved a few months ago with my father, from Sweden." That would explain the slight accent, I reflected.
Breaking into my thoughts, she continued, "You are quite pretty. Pardon me for asking, but how old are you? You look rather young.
"Just twelve. I started dancing very young." Christine's comment on my looks surprised me, considering I was very plain.
Christine smiled again, braver this time. She repeated, "You are good."
Our conversation was then ended. The former ballet mistress came in and told us that both Christine and I had been chosen for the corps de ballet. Christine nodded as if she had known all along, and I serenely smiled, though inside I wanted to announce the fact to all Paris that I, Meg Giry, belonged to a company! After we had been told some regulations and instructions, we were excused.