Dedicated to Harmony in dark (@dominastic2002) for reminding me that someone is reading my work. 

The opening bars of music flow through my body and into my limbs. My face is encased in a shell of stage makeup and I feel the lights already beginning to melt it off. Stepping onto the stage, I lift my arms above my head, making my way towards my partner who waits for me center stage. I'm swept into strong, supportive arms as I lean back my curls mere inches from the wooden floor. A smile reveals my teeth as I'm pulled back up and twirled around before being pulled towards my partner. I'm brought face to face with gorgeous golden hazel eyes, mascara coated lashes, and an oddly feminine face, eyes half-covered with black hair. We stay like this for a beat before breaking apart. My muscles stretch as I slowly unfurl my arm into the air behind me. Dresses whisper over skin as more dancers enter from stage left. The choreography takes my mind from the white noise from the audience. Clasp hands. Twirl. Pull into Jett. Left hand release. Run. Jump. Slow fall. Hands fall in front. 1. 2. Rise. Bend back. Extend leg front. I feel my near-constant awareness of Jett fade away. I was no longer Jessica, the imperfect nobody. I was no longer Rose, the popular dancer. Gone were my imperfections. Gone were everyone's constant judgements. I was the music. I was the dance. I was ethereal beauty. 

As the last note faded into nothing I felt my smile morph from one of bliss and pure joy to the plastered on one I wore whenever I stopped dancing. The bouncing, twirling ball of energy that is Lavender after performing smashes into me, knocking me back. I stumble, hitting the floor in a tangle of limbs and translucent skirts. Hovering above us Jett holds out his hands. Lavender and I took one each, trying to untangle our limbs as we stood. "Lavender. You really must stop doing this." I rolled my eyes, bringing my hand up to my face to inspect the Rose IV  painted onto my smooth, rounded nails. Indifference is the key to popularity. In response, she went on pointe, lifting her arms above her head. "You would think after all this time you would able to stay on your feet." Lavender said tilting her head to the side so her red hair sparkled prettily in the dim light. So predictable. Following my usual post-dance routine I kissed Lavender's cheek, swiping the smear of lipstick off I left behind with a makeup wipe. I pulled Jett into a hug, counting to two before releasing him being careful not to enjoy it too much. I make my way towards the changing rooms with grace, shoulders back, head held high, the fake tiara balanced upon my hairspray-coated hair is lopsided, bobby pins losing their grip on it. Another dance finished. I feel refuelled. I unlace the ribbons of my pointe shoes. All I have to do is make it through the weekend. One second at a time. Just like always.