"Lift Maria. Lift." Her snap pulls me out of the atmosphere I had myself in and I stumble. The music is stopped with an abrupt halt and I look in shame at my reflection in the mirror. Those looking on blink themselves out of their fazed stupor. Everyone that is, except for Miss Lee.

She's a rather wiry woman who can pass as beautiful if she wants to, however, she chooses to shrug on a large, dark red, jacket. She pulls her slightly reddish hair back into a bun and her blood-red lips are always pursed in judgment. She has a thin and delicate frame but when she dances her entire body moves fluidly as if she is no long fused of bone and skin, but rather a form. I had great respect for Miss Lee, and she returned that respect by pushing me hard.

"Maria." She begins slowly, her long nails that slightly resemble claws clutch the head of her staff. The other dancers watch in tense anticipation, their breaths frozen. There was some jealousy amongst them for my natural and partially hard working talent, yet I tried to befriend them as much as possible. "If you do not push yourself, then how do you expect to improve?"

I wanted to blurt out my answer, that I didn't really wanted to dance for a living, that honestly, I just wanted to do something boring, perhaps preschool teaching and settled down quietly. Dancing, especially ballet and the sorts, I felt were too competitive and dangerous of my personal likings. I wasn't the one to fight for something.

Dancing, like that many other things that I did, was only pursued for my parents. So they could flash me off to their friends and extended family showing what a wonderful daughter they brought up and how ravishingly accomplished she was. The whole parade/act made me want to be sick.

"I cannot improve Miss Lee," I said simply and obediently, "one can only succeed if they push their limits and try their boundaries."

"Correct answer, now again!"

The music played again and I repeated the dance steps, simple things really. I was never sure how I amazed my peers as so. Their mouths slowly dropped as they watched me move with each step in rythym. Internally, I wished for a dance partner to twirl me above their heads.

I finished the dance with a flourish and swept into a curtesy. Outside, it was dark, and for a fraction of a second I could've sworn I saw a face, but then I was gone and I walked to the side of the classroom with the other dancers who'd already done their solo.

For the concert, we'd been creating our own solos. It was a time of great excitement for the girls in my class, finally they'd be able to have a chance to perform with the stage to themselves, showing off their budding talent to the world. Me? It was just another time for my over obsessive parents to record and take home a DVD to show to the extended family.

I checked my phone secretively as the last girl was going through her routine. I had a single text from Belle:

Urs 2nite for trial hair and makeup????

Belle had this obsession with a disco coming up. There was nothing special about it, it was a gathering for year tens and younger to pass booze around under the watchful, and slightly blind eye of volunteer chaperones. Normally we wouldn't attend and spend the night marathoning Marvel or Disney. However, since the theme was particularly Disneyish, Belle had it set in her heart for our attendance.

To Belle:

Sure, 1/2hour?

Belle and I lived about five minutes walks away from each other so travelling and time was never a problem. Ballet finished up and I rushed outside into my car. I sent a quick text to dad that Belle would be coming over in a short while. Technically, it wouldn't matter, he still had a long shift at the hospital with my stepmother. They were both doctors.

It took a few minutes until I pulled up the driveway of my home. It was nothing special, a one-story wooden building. People expected that since my parents were doctors that we'd be super rich. Sure, we had a few extra beach-houses, however, my parents were into investments of silver.

I had a quick shower, dressed and blow dried my hair before Belle came over, she didn't bother to knock, rather, burst through the door with a flourish and announce "Honey! I'm hooooooooome,"

"In here," I called from the bathroom.

"I know darling, I know," Belle said, entering and peering at herself, running a hand through her hair.

"Belle, you know I don't like it when you treat me as if I'm Elastagirl and you're Edna."

"And you don't like it when I force you to watch Disney movies but I do it anyway, darling." She added the last word for my discomfort. I rolled my eyes in response.

"But the thing is, Incredibles is real, Disneyworld isn't." Belle scoffed in outrage, batting her large eyelashes. We proceeded to fight about which was real and which was not.

That night we talked about the disco and I voiced my reluctance at going, again. Belle talked over me like I didn't even speak. "Don't worry Darl, I've got Evans patching you up so you're not all alone." She patted my cheek and I tried to swat it away with my elbow as both of my hand were caught in my hair. She laughed and danced away as my fingers snagged on strands of my hair and I groaned in frustration.

We eventually figured out hair to properly twist my hair and figured out the clothes I was wearing. I smiled with glee and waved Belle goodbye as she sped back up the driveway in her car. As soon as I turned away from the door, I sagged in relief. I pulled the pins out of my hair, sparing a few seconds to scrub at my face, then crawled into my bed falling into a blissful sleep.