3- King Alpha
"Another day in the dressing rooms before seeing the sunlight," murmurs Laudis entering the dressing room and placing her things on the table decorated with a mirror full of bulbs, Hollywood-style.
"I'm freezing," she says softly as she leans towards me and kisses my cheeks.
"Hello beautiful, Dasy, how are you?"
"Hello lovely, something incredible happened to me last night," I tell my friend Laudis, I look over my shoulder towards the entrance to make sure no one is coming. I don't want them to hear my crazy story and think I'm delusional. Or am I?
"Tell me, what happened," Laudis says sweetly.
"If I tell you, you won't believe me," I say and show her the thin red line running from the beginning of my forearm to my wrist. Worried, Laudis looks at me intently and takes my arm.
"Dasy, how did you get this wound?"
"Last night, after the rehearsal, I went to dance by the lagoon behind Bee Ice Park."
"Were you attacked? Did they hurt you?"
"Yes, but the surprising thing is that the attack wasn't by humans."
"What do you mean?" Laudis looks at me, puzzled.
"I think there were werewolves in Bee Ice Park forest last night."
"What are you saying, Dasy? Werewolves?"
"I know, it's crazy, but one of them jumped onto the hood of my car and attacked me, breaking the front glass."
"Oh my God."
"It's insane," Laudis tells me, "Have you reported it to the authorities?"
"I don't want to go to the police, they will think I was under the influence or that I'm insane," I explain to Laudis, and tears run down my cheeks.
"Linda, calm down," she says gently, "Maybe there are wild wolves or maybe it was a bear."
"No, I know what I saw. They were humans, one of them transformed right before my eyes, and the other was attacked by him. They were both fighting on top of my car, and then, when I started the car, the body of a man was lying in the forest. When he died, he turned back into a human."
"Probably the authorities will think I was involved in his death. Please don't tell anyone."
"Dasy, what you're telling me is very serious," Laudis says to me.
"You should report the attack, I can accompany you."
"Maybe I will report it, but for now, I want to focus on the opening of the gala tonight."
"You're right, dancing will help you disconnect from everything."
"This morning I woke up and wished it was all a nightmare, but on the way to the theater I already felt better."
"I understand, waking up dancing is recharging our bodies with energy," Laudis responds. She smiles at me and in response to her honey-colored eyes, I kiss her on the cheeks.
"Thank you for listening to me, I thought I was going crazy."
My eyes sparkle just like my blonde hair.
I hear the music in the main hall and the sound tells me that we should already start our class. The soft and warm piano wraps around the theater, at the ballet barre, there are two classmates, Debora and Matisse, and the teacher Pilar greets Laudis and me with a smile. Caroline, the Theory of Music teacher, sits in front of the piano and begins to play a song, "Built at home" by The Cinematic Orchestra, as we start with tendus and frappés combined with arabesques on both sides of the ballet barre.
There is another barre in front of a long mirror that occupies an entire wall over 15 meters long. Other dancers, who are part of the dance company, take their starting positions to begin dancing.
With the piano playing, I take a few minutes to warm up in front of the barre, stretching my legs and my back. The teacher signals the start of rehearsal, I concentrate firmly, my eyes fixed on my silhouette in the mirror, I can barely contain the joy in my chest that I feel while dancing. I dance, and the nightmare from the previous night seems very distant.
When I dance, my mind travels to all the places in the world that I would like to visit, and then somehow a beautiful memory comes to me, last night, when I felt like I would be devoured by those beasts, one of them protected me, or at least that's how I felt when he held my shoulder in my car. Then, after defeating the other beast, I remember him looking at me intently and howling at the moon. There's something beautiful about the howl of that werewolf, like a song at full volume, a letter I never wrote to the moon.
Our teacher, Caroline, stands up from the piano and looks directly at all the dancers.
"Well, guys, now I must tell you that we will be performing this new choreography for the whole country. It will be a very important tour."
"That's fabulous, it will be a long winter if I keep sweating," says Debora, smiling.
"You always sweat, in class or in bed, baby," says Federick.
Debora smiles.
"Oh dancers, the reason to use contemporary dance in your ballet choreographies, you must pay attention to it and understand it, otherwise other dancers will be wiser than you. It's important that you understand how choreographies work."
"For example, yes Dasy, you are such an amazing dancer, but you need to let go a little bit more," says the teacher, staring at me.
"Letting go?"
"I don't understand."
"Yes, letting go of the fear of not being perfect, letting go of the feeling that if you are not perfect, you are not enough. I know it is hard for you because you are the prima ballerina, but you have to let it go."
"Dancing can elevate the soul to heaven," Caroline continues saying. "Symbols can give words double meanings at the same time with every movement, both literal and figurative, and dancers can say more with less. That's the reason why Dasy's solo only in the beginning will be enough to make the audience want to see the whole play."
"I understand," I say, moving my head in acceptance.
"Dancing can also be a sort of secret language between the dancer and the audience. Specifically, dancing can be used in the following ways:"
"I want you, Dasy, to express the feeling of having fear and next to it, let it go. Just think about something that really makes you feel afraid today on stage."
"That won't be difficult," I say, thinking to myself about the experience from last night.
After rehearsals, I find several chocolates and flowers from my admirers. On days when we have performances, they usually send me gifts. Eliazar, the theater guard, usually leaves the gifts sent to us in the dressing rooms. On the vanity table in my dressing room and Laudis' there are some flowers that I find particularly beautiful, a bouquet of white roses with blue-edged lilies. I take them in my hands and smell the flowers. The card is signed with a drawing of a crown and the initials K.A.
"K.A, I have no idea who you are, but thank you very much," I say cheerfully.