Page 118 of The Unraveling

I feel dizzy myself.

Memories of my own mother swirl in my mind, mixing sickly with the realization that I have already lost Mimi, even though she’s still, physically, here.

Jordan. I lost him, too. I pushed him away.

I break away from Luca as Manon is supposed to, my entire body nearly convulsing with the sadness.

Manon runs a big circle around the stage, lost, trying to find her way.

Des Grieux calls to Manon and she runs to him and he catches her in the air. It happens again and again. Manon is losing her mind to fever.

The music undulates with melancholic chords; piercing notes on the top feel like cries for help.

My mother did not have the tools she needed to have a different life. She used sex. She used her body. She looked for comfort. Security. All she wanted was to be happy. All she wanted was for me to be happy. She was flawed. But I never got to tell her I knew she was more than that.

I move across the room en pointe, Luca helping me to float like a feather and guiding me to safety. We pause; then, as the music builds, he spins me and my leg opens just enough for his hand to slide under my right thigh and dip my whole body like a bow. Feet in the air as the point curves down to my head, close to the floor.

My mom was trapped. An endless cycle of bills swallowing her whole. Just when she might have been able to break free, she had me. Then I became her focus. Once I was taken care of, Mimi became her ward.

She never stood a chance.

When I’m lifted up, I pull away from Luca for the last time and bourrée fiercely to the far corner before the final throw in the air.

I finally see it. I finally understand why my mom wanted to come to New York with me. It was a way to change her life.

I run to Luca and feel as if I’m riding a wind at my back, and as I jump, I press my hands into his shoulders and propel myself up in two revolutions and he catches me around the thighs.

I’m pencil straight and dead still as I raise one arm up in the air above me, my body elongating into a long, stretching line.

The music is now crashing like an angry ocean, despite my stillness.

This moment is not about Manon and Des Grieux. It has transformed, and I feel that it is deeply about myself and my life.

I tilt my head to the sky following my arm and release my curled-up fist.

I know, deep down, my meaning. My future.

My head falls back and with that, my body collapses and Luca catches me and lowers me to the ground.

And then he does something that’s not in the choreography. He lies down beside me and squeezes my hand and lets me and Manon have the moment instead of trying to wake Manon, as he is supposed to. Luca seems to know.

The music finishes and the room is deadly silent.

I lie with my eyes closed, at peace. A low rumble starts, almost like a downpour has begun outside, but it’s not coming from above.

I open my eyes and sit up. The dancers around the room are stomping their feet and starting to stand. The staff are standing and clapping. They whistle and cheer for us.

No one saw that coming. Not even me.

—

After rehearsal I take a deep breath in my dressing room and gather my thoughts. I know I just did the best performance of my life. And my colleagues and boss saw it. When I get fired in about ten seconds, they can all remember me that way.

I walk through the hallways and past the lounge to the stairwell to go up to Charlie’s office. I’m trying to ignore the looks I get even though they are in appreciation. It’s a strange feeling to finally be accepted on my way to being fired.

—

Iarrive at Charlie’s office and knock on the door. There’s no answer, so I knock harder.

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