Chapter 6:

"And relax," Madame Aurelie stops the fondue combination, her thin black skirt rubbing aginst her aging knees and then rolls up. Everyone's knees pop and we simutaiounsly groan and moan as the music stops. Madame rolls her eyes. "Muscles popping...pish posh. One time, George Balenchine made us do develope's for three hours. We only stopped when we had to dial 9-1-1 for a dancer that dropped dead. Stretch," She whirls around and walks to the piano player. "Ah, petite amie. Do play with more umph..." Her voice trails off.

Zoe leans against the barre. She's been exceptionally teacher's pet like today, from doing everything Madame asks to being the perfect ballerina. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a very tight and slick bun, and her black leotard is spotless. She lifts her right leg to the barre and stretches over it. Someone sits down behind me. I shiver in surprise. "So..." Daisy's voice comes out from behind my legs.

"So what?" I say, running my sweaty hands down my tights and sliding down into a split.

Daisy purses her reflective pink lips. "I heard from Sonia, who heard from Gina, who heard from Sara that you met a very cute boy today." She wrinkles her nose and then leans over her legs, which are bent in butterfly position.

Zoe raises her plucked eyebrows. "A boy?" She arches her back and then switches legs.

I blush, making the light dusting of Milani's Luminoso blush darker on my cheeks. Daisy giggles and Zoe "hmph's". "I did talk to a musician today, but that was about it." I pick at my cuticles. "But who needs boys? I've got everything I need here; my besties, ballet, and food. Life is good."

Zoe smiles. She opens her mouth to say something, but Madame Aurelie claps her hands. "Everyone. Next combination. Battements on qua. Ah five-six-seven-eight." Daisy runs over back to her spot on the barre and we begin the combonation. Sweat pours down my head as Madame Aurelie examines my figure. I use my head, suck in everything, and make sure my arms are correct. She glances over me like I am a boring piece of toast, eyes narrowed and lips pursed and then goes down the line to Zoe, who is a beautiful cake compared to me, the toast. My heart drops and I bite my lip to keep from screaming in frustation.

I get home at 10:46. My muscles ach, and my stomach growls. After Madame Aurelie's glance over, I decided to stay an extra few hours after Peter's bone breaking rehersals and do some yoga, Birkin, and a late night intensive. All I want to do is curl up in bed after a hot shower, with a mug of Celestial Seasonings tea, food, and watch brainless TV. I flip the lights on. Zoe's not home yet. She probally went out with her boyfriend, Archer. Lucy, our housekeeper, is in the kitchen, cleaning the counters. Sam zips around her feet. Lucy smiles when she sees me. "Massie! Darrling. Have a good day?" Her wrinkles stretch across her cheeks and her gray bun bounces around her neck. She sighs when she sees me slowly and achingly pull off my jacket and drop my keys into my purse. "Honey, you overwork yourself. Go take a nice hot shower and I'll make you some chicken soup, okay?" I shake my head.

"Lucy, it's okay. Your shift ends in ten minutes. Don't worry." I pick up my things and slowly climb the swirling stairs. Lucy ignores me and starts putting a pot on the stove. "Lucy?"

She opens the fridge. "Massie, go take a shower. I've got it all under control. I'll just make everything for you, take the food and dogs upstairs, lock up, and then leave. Go shower, hon."

I nod weakly at the motherly housekeeper and then drag myself to my bathroom. There, I soak in the French tub for twenty minutes, which is full of Epsom salts and bubbles. I shower it all off and clean my face, body, and shampoo my hair and then step out of the steamy air. I slip into long pajama pants with sheep on them and a Gap t-shirt and turn the lights off. I open the bathroom door and the smell of chicken and rice soup fills my nose. On my bed is a steamy bowl of chicken and rice soup, Sleepytime tea, some water, Ginger Ale, Advil, cough drops, chocolate, and other things that I might need. I smile. Sam is asleep on my bed. I shuffle over in fuzzy socks and then collaspe into the pillows. My muscles ache as I lift the spoon to my lips, or try to sip some tea. I finish the pot of soup and the kettle of tea and sip on some Ginger Ale. I finally take an Advil, rub some Icy-Hot on my sore legs, and then flip the lights off. I fall asleep before Zoe ever comes back.

I wake up to Gossip Girl on the TV. I blink a few times and then raise up my head. There is a slight scent of champane in the air, and chicken dominates the area. I look over at Zoe's bed. She's sprawled out over the white fluffy duvet, wearign only a lemon yellow sports bra and gray Cosabella boy shorts. An emerald Gucci silk peplum blouse is on the floor, along with a pair of tight dark wash jeans, a black Miu Miu tube clutch, and black platform strappy Louboutins. I hear her lightly snoring and I throw a pillow at her. She makes a sound with her mouth and rolls over. I slowly get out of bed and shuffle downstairs. There, I slowly make a protien packed smoothie and eat a piece of toast with peanut butter on it.

I pull my hair back in a high ponytail and pull on a pair of gray Nike running pants and a loose NYU fashion week t-shirt. After slipping on my tennis shoes, i grab a water bottle and a CLIFF bar. After that, I head into the elevator and down to the first floor, where I go into the penthouse building's excersize room. I run seven miles on the eliptical and then stretch on the yoga ball for an hour. Once my muscles are warm and stretched, I go back to the apartment. Zoe is still asleep. I'm vaguely guessing she's nursing a hangover. I grab my dance bag and then head outside to catch a cab to the theater.

two hours later, I'm sitting in the dressing room, breaking in a pair of pointe shoes. I slam the boxes into the hinges of the door and then step on them, until I hear a pop. Adrianna and Daisy are on the floor, gossiping and flipping through Cosmo and People magazines. "OMG." Daisy stabs a page in People with her finger. "Miranda Kerr SO did not wear that hideous dress."

Adrianna picks it up and examines the magazine. "That's so ugly."

I slam my hands on the pointe shoe. They've been talking about the Oscars, which were a while ago, and who dressed best. Aparently, Miranda Kerr and some of the Kardashians weren't on it. I soak a bit of water on the toe of the shoe and then watch it dry. the dressing room door opens up. Bea steps in, wearing an oversized sweat shirt and tight navy leggings. "What's up?" She drops her dance bag and theater case and hands me a togo bag from our favorite Chinese resturant. I untie the plastic. In New York, of course they would have an all organic, low fat, perfect for a diet, Chinese resturant. After popping some of the cartons open, I start eating light Sesame chicken, organic Lo Mein, low fat fried rice, and light Beef and Brocolli. Bea sits down with me and we dig in. Daisy gets up from the floor and stretches. She looks like a traffic cone today, wearing a bright orange romper over her gray leotard and tights. Apparently, her therapist told her orange makes someone look skinnier.

"You're making me hungry." She opens the fridge and looks arond for another one of her disgusting diet meals. Adrianna throws on a pink jacket and slips on a pair of TOMS.

She picks up her purse and walks out the door. "Going to get lunch. Want anything?" She asks. we all shake our heads.

Daisy lets her meal cook in the microwave. "Hey Daze." Bea says. "Can you toss me a Diet Coke?"

I spoon fried rice into my mouth. "And give me some Evian?"

Daisy rolls her eyes. "Diet Coke is FULL of sugar, Bee. why do you drink it?" She gives us our drinks and leans on her hip.

I wipe sauce off my mouth and glare at her. "I'm sure eating meals that have been cooked in teh microwave 24-7 is very good for you. In fact, radiation could be leaking out of you right now. If you have radiation in you, your'e skin will start getting sweaty and dry." I lie. Bea softly giggles and i elbow her in the ribs.

"Nuh-uh." Daisy pouts like a little child, but when she thinks we're not looking, she examines her arm and widens her arms and her dry skin. The microwave beeps and Daisy pulls out another black tray. She joins us on the floor, and rips the plastic back. Bea's nose wrinkles in disgust.

"What is that?" She asks, leaning away from the tray.

Daisy unwraps a fork. "Chicken zuchinni pot pie."

My mouth curls. "That looks disgusting."

Daisy shovels some in her mouth. Her eyes squint and she starts hacking on it. I hand her a napkin. She spits it out. "OHMYGOD THAT WAS THE WORST THING I HAVE EVER TRIED IN MY FREAKING LIFE!" She yells.

Bea bursts into laughter, and soon, we're all laughing. The door opens up, and we all think it's Adrianna, but it's Zoe.

She's wearing oversized Gucci sunglasses, holding a huge Starbucks latte, and rubbing her forhead. "Mm.." She says to us, instead of a hello.

Daisy throws away the pie and pulls a fruit cup out. She starts eating chunks of pineapple. "Where have you been?" She asks. "You missed company class AND the Firebird rehersal."

Zoe pulls off the sunglasses. Her eyes are red and puffy. "Eek, Zoe." I say. "what happened?"

She rubs her scalp, messing up her jacked up blonde ponytail. "I drank to much champane." She moans.

Adrianna bursts through the door. She's got a Greek Gyro sandwhich in one hand and a water in the other. Her eyes are wide. "Julia just passed out in the theater." She yells. All of us get up and run to the theater, where the Scherzo a la Russe rehersal was going on. Julia, who is a soloist, hardly ever gets hurt or sick. My palms start sweating. I'm scared for Julia, because she could have ended her dancing career, but the mean, snarky, and comeptitive side of me says that if she stops, a new soloist spot is opened up.

We throw open the double doors leading to the Green Room and run on stage. Lottie and Joanna are calling for help on thier iPhones nearby Julia, who is sprawled out across the black stage. Daniel is leaning over her, trying to feel her pulse. Peter runs in from the other side of the stage and he and Daniel try to figure out whats wrong. I walk over to Lottie. "What happened?" I ask

Lottie pulls a piece of auburn hair back behind her ear and bites her lip. "She was doing the complicated turn sequence-pique pique lame duck leap leap tor jete. She jumped really high on the tor jete and landed on her face. Her feet didn't touch the floor first, either. They think she passed out in mid air and now has a concussion."

My heart drops. Julia is lying right side up, which means Daniel rolled her off her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she's still. Suddenly, I'm aware of how skinny she is; her pale skin glowing luminesciantly under the bright stage lights, thick black hair working it's way out of her bun and making her angled cheekbones protrude sharply, muscular legs like toothpicks and her arms like china. An ambulene wails in the background. Seeing Julie makes me naseous. Will ballet really make me look like that? I mean, I'm already natrually skinny and tiny. Julia was petite when she first started NYCB. I've seen pictures of her. A whoosh echoes through my head. My brain spins. And then I fall down onto the stage, screams echoing around me.

The last thing i remember is Zoe leaning over me, yelling. The picture of her face in surprise and scared fades away into darkness, leaving me with the strange craving of wanting a bowl of bowtie pasta and a few faint bars of Strangers in the Night by Frank Sinatra.

Hey guys!

Sorry I haven't posted a chapter in a while. BTW, there are a few changes in this chapter that wasn't orginal. The guy that Lottie danced with in chapters 1-2, Sam, is now Daniel. Ivanna, the pomeranian, is now Sam the miniature black lab. Just thought i should change things up. Comment some plot twists if you have time.