Page 1 of Stripped

Prologue

It could have been vengeance, betrayal, sabotage, or even an accident. However, those weren't the first words that sprang to mind when one entered a ballet studio. Graceful dancers, beautiful costumes, and the elegance of classical music brought together in the telling of a story, that was the image ballet evoked. But she knew better.

The music began, and she put her hand on the wooden barre, smooth and worn, and closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before the préparation and the start of pliés. The ritual was so ingrained in her, it went beyond all thought or control, becoming nothing more than a meditation as she warmed up her body and stretched her sore muscles.

She looked across at the other dancers, each in their own space, both physically and mentally. Some were friends, others were enemies, all of them her greatest competitors. She could not get distracted. The discipline it took to wake up every morning and start again was what kept her going. The constant, self-centered need to reach both outstanding body and emotional control. She had worked her whole life for this, sacrificed most everything, enduring strict diets, long and demanding rehearsal times, bloody feet, rejection, and it had finally paid off. This season, she had been named a soloist, a move up from the corps de ballet. It was not without controversy, though. Her grandfather was a major donor to the company. Whispers circulated through the dancers that her promotion had been bought. She was young at her age, to become a soloist in the Scottish National Ballet. She tried to let the rumors and nasty comments roll off her back; it was to be expected, jealousy ran rampant, and she needed to remain focused.

The ballet master walked around the room as he led class. "One, two three," he counted to the music. "Arm in fifth and relevé." He touched her shoulder, lowering it a millimeter. "Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. And relax. Other side."

The company was premiering the season with the debut of a new take on the classic Swan Lake, retold in a stripped down and contemporary way. With class over, she went to her assigned rehearsal room. She was understudying the dual role of Odette and Odile, the white and black swans. The principal dancers were already there speaking to the choreographer, along with the artistic director. She sat down to put on her pointe shoes, tying the ribbons around her ankles. The accompanist began to play Tchaikovsky's Second Act of the White Swan Pas de Deux, the melodic sounds of the piano contouring the light and shadow of the harmonies, evocative of the cursed swan and what was to come. The principals took their spots while she and her partner marked it at the back of the studio. The lead dancer, Irina, playing Odette, went to the corner to prepare for a complicated sequence of steps in which she ran and jumped into her partners arms as he lifted her high above his head. She did the same, but at the back, staying out of the way as she visualized the running pattern and hummed the steps to the music. Irina waited as the music built in intensity, then hitting the mark, she took off. Instead of a coupé, a step where the right foot cuts the left foot away and takes its place, she slipped, twisting her ankle. The prima ballerina landed with a thud and the sound of a loud pop was followed by an ear-piercing scream. Everyone gathered around as Irina writhed on the floor holding her leg.

Her partner called for help. "Her foot just went out from under her," he bellowed.

She froze, unable to move. The role was hers now. She would play the part of Odette and Odile. Rarely, did an alternate get the chance to take over a starring role. After years of hard work, sweat, and pain, now, in the blink of an eye, success.

The director went to the corner, wiping his fingers across the gray marley floor. "It's slick. Someone's put something greasy here. This was intentional."

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