Eeek… I totally forgot about the disclaimer part.
Disclaimer : Not mine.
Chapter Two
Sephy smiled and took the bon-bon Joanna offered her. She unwrapped the chocolate wafer and crumpled up the shiny foil, then chucked it to the side. She winced as a high pitched scream pierced through the din, followed by roars of laughter as Emma made a spot on imitation of Carlotta.
"Aaaahhh! You are mmmmmyyyyy loooooooove!" shrieked Emma at the top of her voice, pretending to swish about her voluminous petticoats with a hand, sing and flutter a colossal fan at the same time, which proved too much for her and her companions, who dissolved in to tears of hysteria.
The noise level in the ballerina's dorm was always at a steady crescendo and barely died down till bed time, when Madame Giry had barged in at least thrice and threatened to make them practice an extra hour the next day.
"I think I'll go to the auditorium and listen to the….orchestra practice," Sephy managed to mumble through a mouthful of crumbs. Joanna made a shoo-shoo motion with her hands.
Sephy made to search for her shoes and shawl but couldn't locate the shawl anywhere. Her quick brown eyes darted across the dorm filled with dozens of ballerinas chattering; a small group were running through a part of a dance in Scene 3 for Don Juan Triumphant in the far corner of the room.
The brief thought that the dance sequences for the opera were particularly obscene in some places and were hardly fit to be called ballet, ran fleetingly through her head, before her wandering mind snapped back to her missing shawl.
"Has anyone seen my peach shawl?" called Sephy as she bent down to tug on her shoes. A chorus of 'no's and 'where are you going?'s filled the room.
A silky piece of cloth came hurtling through the air and slapped in to Sephy's face.
"Oof!"
She choked on the remnants of her tidbit and grabbed wildly at the railing of her bed before she fell on her rear end. The room exploded in laughter.
"I'm sorry!" Vivienne rushed to explain, half relieved to see that Sephy wasn't angry. On the contrary, she was grinning.
The small ballet rat had to shout to make herself heard above the echoing din of the girl's laughter.
"We were playing Blind Man's Buff," she said guiltily, gesturing towards a gaggle of giggling girls behind her.
"It's perfect," Janette joined in. "It's loose weave so we can just barely manage to see where the others are heading."
Sephy draped the shawl around her slender shoulders, pulling a lock of wavy brown hair out of her face as she exited the room. She shook her head, smiling wryly as she heard a loud thump from the other side of the door, followed by high squeals.
Far away she could hear the faint sounds of the orchestra rehearsing a deep, emotional piece from the beginning of Don Juan Triumphant. The vibrations thrummed through the ground and walls, the music literally running through her body.
Sephy felt a fine tremor of anxiety run through her veins alongside the strains of the dim music as she contemplated the performance due the day after tomorrow.
Lead part in Don Juan Triumphant!
She could barely restrain a big smile from breaking out. She was getting a solo part on opening night of an opera played in Paris' renown opera house! The enormity and bliss of the moment made her chasse happily as she recalled Madame Giry walking up to her out of the blue this afternoon, and calmly offering to make one of her deepest wishes come true.
"Sephy."
"Yes, Madame Giry," said Sephy, a ring of questioning in her voice as she straightened up from retying her laces.
"You need to work on that triple pirouette of yours," the gray haired lady said, tapping her cane on the ground. "It's not very stable."
"I know, Madame. I think it's because of my left shoulder," Sephy said, eager to discuss the dance. Any personal tips from Madame Giry was very much appreciated, as she mainly concentrated on the prima ballerinas, they being the center of attraction. They plunged in to a lengthy and complicated discussion, frequently interjected by demonstrations from the teacher, and questions posed by the student.
"So you might try bringing around the shoulder and carrying your arms closer to your chest," suggested Madame Giry. She always phrased her sentences to sound as if she was offering good advice, which it was, but anyone with sense could detect the undercurrent which implied she was giving an order. Madame Giry was not to be disobeyed.
Sephy executed a perfect triple spin, eliciting a beatific smile from Madame Giry who lightly applauded.
"Thank you, mam'zelle," Sephy said, waiting for more. When Madame Giry didn't reply, Sephy got the impression that the discussion was over. Picking up her ballet shoes from the linoleum floor, fingering the ribbons and turned to leave, when Madame Giry stopped her with a short "Seraphina?'
Sephy faced Madame Giry, giving a small smile when she noticed Madame Giry fiddling with the folds of her skirt just like Meg when her own mother asked her a question and Meg didn't know the answer.
"Do you know the steps to Giselle's part?"
The small smile on Sephy's face disappeared instantly, leaving Sephy slack jawed in disbelief, gaping at her teacher, hardly believing what was being said to her.
Madame Giry frowned. "Close your mouth, dear. It's not ladylike when you open your mouth till the jaw scrapes the floor."
Sephy's jaw snapped shut, and she shook herself.
"Well?" asked Madame Giry, irritatedly.
"Oh, yes. Yes. I know the part like the back of my left hand," Sephy hastened, in case Madame Giry should suddenly retract the offer. Not that she had exactly asked her to dance the part, but she was going to. Definitely going to.
"Back of your left hand, hmm?" murmured Madame Giry, amused. Sephy quickly glanced at her left hand, almost as if to check there were still five fingers.
Five fingers still in place.
Madame Giry looked undecided for a moment, lost in her thoughts, then gave a sharp nod.
"Good. You have the part," she stated, a huge burden noticeably lifted off her back. She had a prima ballerina now!
The bubbles of anxiety inside Sephy burst in to an explosion of excitement and Sephy felt like bouncing on her bed with Joanna. No bed and privacy handy, Sephy barely managed to school her features to present a calm expression.
Madame Giry gave her a briefing on when private rehearsals would be held, and instructed her to run off to find Madame Du'ponte, the person who tailored all the costumes, so that the dresses could be altered to fit her perfectly.
The minute Madame Giry turned to go, Sephy squealed inwardly with joy, eyes squeezed shut and her fingers pulling at her shift, to prevent her from screaming down the opera roof. Sephy hurriedly rushed to find Joanna, her best friend, and they both danced a very undignified tribal looking dance together, hand in hand around an empty changing room, at Sephy's good news.
When they had finally exhausted themselves they collapsed on a pile of velveteen curtains abandoned at the corner, and half asphyxiated themselves by breathing in the great poof of cloud that arose from the curtains.
Sephy gave a small snort of laughter, remembering how they had rushed from the room, waving their hands in front of their faces to dispel the dust that seemed to follow after them. They had literally bumped in to Joseph Buquet, the bad tempered stagehand, who gave them a scowl, pushed them aside and continued on his way.
Only with Joanna could she act as ridiculous and as relaxed as she ever could be. It was nice to have such a close friend who really celebrated your triumphs with you.
Sephy reached back stage and sat herself down on the floor, out of the way of the bustling stage helps, as she watched the singers ready themselves for their dress rehearsal.