It was a a lazy Saturday afternoon when Ireland came barging into my house. "You'll never guess...what...happened.." she huffed and I gestured for her to sit on my bed.

Most of my day had consisted of trying to get the fish smell out of the air. My mother works four jobs: at a flower nursery, a diner, at a bar and at a fish market. Obviously I had become  accustomed to the smells that lingered after her coming home from a job. The most recent?

The fish market.

It took me awhile to get the smell out but eventually I had.

Ireland knew where the spare key was in my house and knew that I was almost always alone and always made herself comfortable at my house, I suppose being one of four her house was always a bit cramped (she had a younger brother: James and  twins siblings: Sutton & Atlas) "What happened?" I asked her as she flopped down onto my bed.

"I was going to tell you yesterday but I wasn't at school but now I have to tell you."

"Well don't keep me waiting then" I said rolling my eyes. Ireland always had a flair for dramatics. "Well I was working my shift at Lenny's then of course who shows up? All the Jocks and cheerleaders from E R high and I like crap but then I remembered I had finished my shift. But of course my stupid manager,your remember Harvey Bellamy?" I nodded Harvey was a three years ahead of us and obviously her bitchiness had not subsided from when we were freshmen. "Anyway..." I prompted her and Ireland snapped back into story mode.

"Anyway I was working and of course I was just about to leave but then I was told to serve one last table before I go home and what table? The table of our schools elite." I had always thought Ireland could easily have been apart of the elite of our school, since really our school didn't have the bitchy head cheerleader nor was she dating our quarterback who I suppose wasn't classed as a star after last year.

"All of them were there: Ezra, Rory, Clarke, Elodie and Lincoln and a few more that I don't actually know but when I was there Lincoln was looking at me like I was a ghost and Rory barely looked at me at all" I knew deep down that this whole story would focus on Rory's lack of recognition of one Ireland Delatour.

"Ireland I'm sure he'll notice you eventually and if he doesn't well that's his goddamn loss because your pretty and funny and you have one hell of a twitter following (2.7k followers to be exact) and maybe you'll find someone better than Rory" I told her but I don't think she believed me.

"Okay Alex but it's still frustrating...hey you told me that your now friends with Ezra Westmore why don't you put in a good word for me?" I rolled my eyes at her I had not said that. "Excuse me I said he was a forced acquaintance not  a friend" but Ireland just shrugged. "Potato, Po-tar-toe but seriously could you?" She asked giving me her trademark puppy eyes.

"I'll think about it"

---

Ireland didn't leave my house until Sunday morning and that left me only a few hours to myself until I had to teach Lincoln to dance again. It only had been a week since I had accepted this challenge which left only three until my deadline with Rosie.

To see if I wanted to pass this 'job' to another one of the teacher (there were only two others).

But did I really want to give it up?

My mother had paid the electricity bill and now the power was up and running again but she was no where to be found. Sometimes I think she takes more shifts or stays away from home to avoid me.

Walking into my room I tried to find my sweats but found they all had stains on them or smelt dirty and sweaty. "Great just great" I threw them all into the hamper and told myself to do some laundry when I got home. I grabbed an old black leotard which I rarely wore and stuffed a matching black sheer shirt in my bag to put on when I got there. I hated that I was using my fancier dance clothes for this but I had no choice.

I quickly threw on my jeans and a hoodie and I was ready to leave. At least that's what I told myself.

I drove to the studio and I couldn't help but feel guilty. Was I teaching to the best of my ability? Or was I just simply waiting until I was free from these metaphorical shackles? I couldn't be sure.

Sighing I got out of the truck and walked up the studio and like always I was early. Chucking my bag down I got out of my jeans and pulled oh the skirt and threw off my hoodie. Since Lincoln wasn't here yet even after I warmed I decided to practice myself.

Getting myself up into pointe, I began to spin trying to spot myself in the mirror. I could only spin about four times before I got too dizzy but I was trying to extend that, honing my skills to hopefully stand out in the New York Ballet company (if I got in...).

I hit the fourth before I thought like I would be sick and I tried it again.

And again

And again

And again.

"OH!" I cried as I tripped slightly and fell onto the shiny dance floor. Putting up my knees I rested my elbows against them and I rested my head in my hands. Why couldn't I get it? I knew that perhaps I was getting into my own head and making this harder for myself than it needed to be but I couldn't help it.

This meant everything to me. Ballet, the idea of perfection in every movement and the detail of every action.

This was my entire world and if I couldn't even twirl properly how was going to make it?

-----

Okay this is kind of a filler chapter but it also shows how much pressure Alexandria puts on herself to succeed and how little parental figures are in her life.

It also looks at weighing up if she thinks teaching Lincoln is a waste of her time

Vote. Comment and be happy

L xx