Ever since seeing her first ballet a year ago, Olivia knew she wanted to dance.

She remembered sitting in the theater scented with pleasant rose fragrances, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake echoing through the speakers as dancers glided across the stage. There was a serene atmosphere in the air as they executed jetés and pirouettes in perfect harmony. The ballerinas looked ethereal, adorned in feathers and rhinestones that shimmered in the stage lights. Their fluffy white tutus rustled softly as they landed on their toes without a single stomp of their pointe shoes.

Olivia recalled the duo playing the leads, Queen Odette and Prince Seigfried, performing a beautiful pas de deux together. She wanted to be that woman. She wanted to feel that rush of adrenaline, to experience the exhilaration of executing each step perfectly and making the audience feel something. She wanted to captivate them with the same talent and confidence Queen Odette possessed.

Determined to make her dream a reality, Olivia searched for ballet tutorials online. She practiced in her room, using the back of a chair as a makeshift barre. She moved her violin stand and Vogue magazines aside so she could extend her legs without hitting anything.

Suddenly, the door to her room swung open and Olivia yelped, putting her hand to her heart in shock. “Oh my… Gosh, do you knock?” she asked in annoyance, pausing the video playing on her tablet. She crossed her arms and turned to face whoever it was.

“Liv, you are not going to believe what I found!” There in the doorway stood her older brother, Elijah. He was still in his soccer attire, grass stains on his pale knees and Olivia could make out a twig intertwined in his messy brunette hair. There was a big grin on his face and a brightly-colored flyer held in his hand.

Olivia’s curiosity was piqued. She squinted, trying to read the words on the paper. “Just tell me,” she said.

“Look!” he stuck the flyer in her face. The words ‘Seraphina School of Dance’ were written in swirling calligraphy. The image beneath them showed a beautiful ballerina, limbs extended in a graceful arabesque.

Olivia’s emerald eyes lit up. This was the academy she had always dreamed of going to ever since seeing Swan Lake. She didn’t need to read the details; she had already spent hours of her own time researching it. The school promised the opportunity to train under renowned ballet instructors and to perform in professional critically-acclaimed productions. Even people living overseas traveled to see the performances they put on–they were just that good. Everything she could ever want was waiting for her at that school.

Her eyes scanned the page until they reached the audition date. Olivia’s heart dropped as she read it. September 14th, only four months away. No way was she going to be able to get into such a prestigious company in such a short amount of time.

“You saw the audition day, didn’t you?” Elijah asked her, as if reading her mind.

Olivia sighed and nodded slowly. Her dreams of dancing at Seraphina now felt impossibly distant. Her eyes scanned the audition date once more, hoping it might magically change. But it wouldn't, no matter how much she wished for it to.

Elijah, always the optimist, tried to comfort her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “Hey, come on now. Don’t let that get you down. You’ve got the passion and dedication for this. If you work hard enough and focus, who’s to say you can’t make it?”

Olivia wanted to believe him. She really did. But she knew that the audition for a prestigious school like Seraphina was no child’s play. The competition would be fierce, and the bar would be set incredibly high. You couldn’t get in with just determination. You had to actually be good, and she wasn’t. Would she ever be she wasn’t sure. “Three months… It’s a long shot, Eli.”

“I had a feeling you would say that,” Elijah reached into his duffle-bag set down at the door and pulled out a small box. He took off its lid. Inside lay a pair of brand new pale-pink ballet slippers with satin ribbons, along with tights and a black leotard. “And that’s not all. Guess what?” He then pulled out a piece of paper also in the box. “I’ve already registered you for ballet classes. There are also going to be workshops later in August at Seraphina itself, so you’ll be able to see what it’s like. Isn't that exciting?”

“Wow. I… I don’t know what to say,” Olivia hesitantly took the slippers, holding them in her hands carefully as if they were a trophy made out of real gold. She looked back up at Elijah. “You really think I can do this? I mean, I can’t even do a simple glissade.”

“I don’t think, Liv, I know. This,” he gestured to the shoes, “is just the beginning. I know four months doesn’t seem like a long time, but it’s still time. Everyone starts somewhere. You think LeBron James just sashayed up to basketball hoops at five years old and started dunking? Of course not! It took him lots and lots of practice. With enough of it, I'm sure you’ll be acing gli-whatevers–”

“Glissades.”

“Glissades in no time.”

Olivia giggled at his attempt and thanked him, taking the box from his hands and setting it on her pink bed covers. By the time she turned back to face her brother, Elijah was already out the door, walking back downstairs. From the bottom of the staircase he called out, “Your first class starts at nine a.m. sharp tomorrow!”

The next morning, Olivia’s heart raced with excitement and nervousness as she entered the dance studio. The classroom was large and had wall-length mirrors, ballet barres, and the scent of polished wood in the air.

Standing next to all of the barres were girls dressed in black leotards and pink tights, their hair pulled back in tight buns. The men took a different class. Olivia was wearing the same uniform as the other girls, but she didn’t know how to do a good bun, so her wavy brunette hair was just piled on top of her head. She took a spot next to one of the barres and hoped that it wouldn’t be an issue.

Olivia’s thoughts were interrupted once the instructor walked in. Her name, Olivia learned later on, was Mrs. Campbell. She clapped her hands twice, commanding everyone’s attention almost immediately. “Good morning, everyone,” Mrs. Campbell said. Olivia noticed a slight British accent in her stern voice. “We will begin today’s class with the basics. Everyone face the barre.”

For the first few weeks, Olivia struggled. A lot. Ballet was as demanding as it was beautiful. Her muscles ached and her body screamed in protest against the unfamiliar movements. She stumbled, she faltered, and she often found herself a step behind the other dancers. If only she had begun ballet when she was younger – then she wouldn't be feeling this way.

And then there was something else that was always lurking in the back of her mind. Doubt. Doubt whispered to her in moments of weakness, telling her she wasn’t good enough, that she was wasting her time chasing a dream that was too big to be achievable. It taunted her with the knowledge that there were better dancers out there, kids who had started earlier, who had access to special connections and better classes, prodigies.

The eyes burning into the back of her neck during breaks weren’t helpful either. She heard their whispers and felt their stares, judging her. They were all more experienced, more confident, more talented than she was. It made her feel small, like she didn’t belong. It was too easy to succumb to those feelings.
She just tried to ignore them. Her intrusive thoughts and the other girls who she swore were about to start a rivalry with her were not about to make her quit. Every night she practiced at home, enduring the pain and frustration, knowing that her efforts would eventually pay off. She bought training equipment, watched instructional videos, and practiced the exercises taught in the classes whenever given the chance. Elijah stood by her every step of the way, giving her the motivation she needed to keep going. 

As the weeks passed, her efforts did in fact start to pay off. She wasn’t perfect, but she was much better than when she started. She even made a few friends who were willing to offer some assistance. Her muscles had grown stronger, her balance improved, and she could follow along in classes, often being the one called to demonstrate a particular combination by Mrs. Campbell. She could now execute a proper pirouette, and her pliés were deeper and more controlled than before.

Finally, the day of the audition arrived. Olivia’s hands were clammy as she sat outside the audition room, picking at her cuticles, right leg uncontrollably bouncing up and down in constant movement. She had never felt so nervous in her life.

She looked around at all of the other people in the room. Dancers of all ages and backgrounds huddled in small groups, speaking encouraging words to each other. Those negative thoughts she believed she had eliminated started to creep back into her mind again as she saw one of the boys pull his leg all the way over his shoulder while balancing only on the other. Meanwhile, Olivia had only recently been able to touch her toes. She tried to look away. Comparing herself to the others wasn’t going to help her. It was hard though, and she couldn’t help but do just that. She really hoped that flexibility wasn’t going to be a major factor in the decision process.

Olivia was pulled out of her head once she heard the door to the audition room open. The lady who had been walking in and out calling people in for the past two hours stood there, a clipboard in her hand. “Number seventy-three,” she yelled throughout the hallway.

Olivia looked down at the piece of paper pasted on the front of her t-shirt. It read seventy-three. She stood up. Eyes watched her as she hesitantly followed the woman into the room and moved to position herself on the X in the middle of the wooden floor.

Sitting at the panel were four judges. None of them were smiling except for the woman in the middle. She wore a navy blazer, her blonde hair tied back into a braid that fell over the front of her shoulder. Olivia couldn’t tell if the woman was faking the smile or not, but if she was, she was a good actress because Olivia automatically felt a bit more at ease.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the woman said with a nod.

Olivia took a deep breath. She pushed the rest of the negative thoughts haunting her away and got into first position, feet in turnout, neck long, arms extended below her hips in a circular pose. Just like she practiced.

The piano player in the corner of the room began the starting notes, which Olivia recognized as the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. She took a moment to recall the choreography taught in the classes and dance workshops she attended. She then closed her eyes and let the music guide her.

She moved through the choreography, her movements graceful and controlled. Her lithe body responded well to the song as she executed each step with elegance and confidence she didn’t think she would have. It was as if, for a brief moment, Olivia forgot all about the competition. She had blocked out the noise, both outside and inside her head and instead focused solely on her dancing.

She remembered every correction her teacher had given her and applied them to this moment. She took every ounce of passion and determination she had into her performance as if it were the last one she would ever do. Her muscles ached but she pushed through the pain, determined to give the best show she could like her life depended on it.

As she spun faster and faster in a pirouette, a blur of colors flying past her, she felt her balance shift slightly. She tried to correct her position but instead just ended up making it worse. She stumbled and fell out of the pirouette, barely catching herself from falling over on the polished wooden floor. Like anyone, she didn’t want to bring any attention to her mistake, so she simply tried to pretend it didn’t happen. She covered it up with a bit of clever improv instead. She smoothly transitioned into an unplanned dance move, but made it look as if it were all intentional artistic liberty.

Just as she thought she had saved it, she saw one of the judges jot something down on his clipboard out of the corner of her eye. Oh no. A spike of panic shot through her heart for a brief moment. Did they notice her mistake? Just smile, Olivia, just smile, she thought to herself, even though she was internally screaming.

Despite the mixed emotions she was feeling, she continued through the choreography with grace, feet as light as a feather, just like Mrs. Campbell had described. She executed a second series of pirouettes, this time without slipping, thankfully. As the music came to a crescendo, she leapt into a grand jeté and landed in fifth position perfectly. The last notes of the piano echoed throughout the room and she struck her final pose, extending her arms in an elegant arabesque.

The room was silent for what felt like an eternity. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she was afraid they could hear it. The judges exchanged glances between each other, writing more notes down, whispering words Olivia couldn’t make out. Finally, the woman in the middle set down her pen and said, “Thank you, Olivia. We’ll be in touch.”

Olivia gave a nod and a small “thank you” back before exiting the room.

Days turned into weeks, and the anticipation of waiting for the results was almost unbearable. Olivia tried to distract herself with school, new editions of fashion magazines, violin, and more dance classes to keep her mind off of things. But when it was just her and her thoughts alone, she obsessed over every little mistake she had made during the audition, especially that pirouette.

“What if they don’t choose me?” she thought to herself, “Then all of this would be for nothing.”

Elijah had told her to not beat herself up so much about it, that she’s probably fine. But the more Olivia thought about the audition, the more she wondered if she even stood a chance against the other dancers. She had spent hours practicing and perfecting, and she thought she did well at first, but what if it wasn’t enough?

Then, on a rainy afternoon, as she was eating breakfast, the mail arrived. Olivia’s heart skipped a beat once she saw the elegant logo of Seraphina School of Dance etched across the front, sealed with a pink wax rose. With trembling hands, she tore the envelope open and carefully took the letter out of its packaging. She took a deep breath before scanning the page, looking for the phrase that she had been thinking about for the past two weeks. Finally, she saw it.

“We are pleased to inform you–”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The amount of disbelief, relief, and joy she was feeling was enough to make it stop raining outside, the grey clouds to clear, and the sun to shine as bright as ever.

Ecstatic, she ran downstairs, the letter clutched tightly in her hand. Elijah was the first person she saw. He looked up from his phone, his brows furrowing as he took in her expression. He chuckled, "Well, someone’s happy."

 "Of course I am. I got in!" she exclaimed, wildly waving the letter around, pride and joy radiating off of her. With the huge smile spread across her face, you think she’d won the lottery. "I'm going to Seraphina! Can you believe it?”

“Wait, seriously? Oh my God, that’s great!” Elijah jumped up from the couch and took the letter, reading it over. Then he embraced her in a tight hug. "I knew you could do it, Liv! I'm so proud of you!”

In the years that followed, Olivia’s journey at Seraphina School of Dance was nothing short of amazing. Under the guidance of experienced instructors and support of her peers, she was able to go en pointe and blossomed into a spectacular dancer. The company’s performances took her all over the globe, dancing in iconic theaters from New York to Paris. Eventually she leveled all the way up to principal dancer, the highest rank of a professional dance company. She completed many impressive feats, winning competitive awards and even appearing on a few magazine covers. She became an inspiration to aspiring dancers around the world.

Ten years later, Oliva stood on the grand stage of the same theater where she watched Swan Lake as a child. This time, she was the woman playing Queen Odette, captivating the audience with her own talent and confidence. The rush of adrenaline, the exhilaration of the performance, evoking the emotions she wanted to be felt – it was everything she had ever hoped for.

In that moment, as she carried out a particularly difficult fouetté, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the journey that brought her here. From the first Youtube tutorial in her bedroom to being on the grand stage where she now stood, she never forgot where she came from.

She was incredibly grateful for her ballet teachers, friends she made along the way, and most of all, her brother, who none of this would have been possible without. Of course, she had to give some credit to herself as well. In the end, it was defeating her own self-doubt – the one thing that could have completely derailed her from her destiny – that allowed her to get to where she was today. All of them had a helping hand in guiding her through the tough times, pushing her out of her comfort zone, and reminding her to never give up on her dreams.