gbardot

[gbardot]

"Sure," the disgrace ballerina replied, head barely lifted from the application to flash a friendly smile in their direction. "Anyone willing to listen to my groaning. Feel free to ignore me or tell me to shut up if I'm annoying or bothering you."

In that quick glance over at them, Genevieve noted that they seemed to be deep into their own paperwork and decided she should keep her frustrations to herself.

"A scammer?" Now the brunette's attention focused on them solely, papers lowered and pen touched the table. "People do that?"

How much of a noob had she sounded like? In her defense, this was the first time in her life that Genevieve was filling out applications.

"Sorry," the dancer began, "for disrupting you." A sigh released next. "This is just really frustrating." / @embrcssemoi

Uh... Zian looked around, wondering if the brunette was indeed talking to them. The professor was used to their students randomly chatting up with them, but not strangers, and they definitely didn't know the person sitting not too far from them at Rizzo's diner while they graded some papers on their laptop in between bites here and there. "I uh... sorry, were you talking to me?" They blinked a couple of times. Maybe she was talking to herself and he'd end up making a fool out of themselves. If any of their siblings were here, she'd probably find it yet another reason to annoy them. "But, I guess they just want to know you're not a scammer." Or a psychopath. But Zian let that word die in the back of their throat. It was usually the pretty ones, wasn't it? / @gbardot

[gbardot]

Had the former ballerina actually stepped foot into Nash's to see if there were any job openings? Possibly. Had Genevieve chickened out before even coming close to asking for an application? Absolutely.

It wasn't even a pride thing. The disgraced dancer couldn't summon up the courage because it dawned on her just how many people would likely recognize her and ask questions that would make her uncomfortable.

Instead, the brunette had decided on picking up a few things for her mother and was reaching for a bag of chips when she realized she wasn't the only one going for them. "No, no— sorry, you can have it."

A quick smile came to her lips and hazel held the dark gaze of the other woman's as she shook her head. "My mother likes those ones over there," she pointed down the aisle a little ways, "quite a bit too. So, you go on with the last of these." / @pcvrlys

closed starter @gbardot

Hazal grabbed a cart and made her way through Nash's Supermarket, picking up the essentials she needed for the week. She tossed in a loaf of bread, a carton of eggs, some fresh vegetables, and a pack of chicken breasts. As she headed towards the snack aisle, her eyes lit up at the sight of her favorite chips. Reaching out to grab the last bag, when out of nowhere another hand brushed against hers. She quickly pulled back, an apologetic smile on her face as she met the gaze of the other shopper. "Oh, I'm sorry. You can have it," she said with a sheepish smile.

[gbardot]

"Yeah," Genevieve commented with a single humorless breath of a laugh, "especially when you're qualified for absolutely nothing." Out of pure frustration and that sinking, icky bleakness the disgraced ballerina set her pen on the table a little harshly.

Direct from high school the brunette had gone to The New York Ballet and had never worked a single job outside of dance. She was perhaps a little more fortunate than others given her abilities and how quickly she'd become a principle dancer. It'd only been a few years in and Genevieve Bardot was a promising soloist that everyone knew was destined for Prima.

Sabotoge was in the cards instead.

Life and career ruined at the meddling of another rather than a downfall befalling her of her own mistakes.

As much as she appreciated someone caring enough to respond to her open comments, the Wilmington native's dispiritedness was getting the better of her. Genevieve rubbed at her forehead thinking it could help what had actually set in her weary bones years ago.

When she felt and heard the presence of another slipping in across from her, the brunette's head shot up and the harshness of her delicate features softened as Gen listened. Surprise came first at an offer, then the hope swelling in her chest— "wait, are you for real? I've only ever danced. I mean, I can use a laptop and a phone." Edging a little closer, now upright and thinking she had to give it her best shot. Hazel held the other's gaze and she nodded. "Genevieve. It's nice to meet you, Valentina. What's your business? You sure you'd want to take a chance on someone like me?" / @valentinabecks

Valentina needed food and what better way to go than Rizzo’s diner. From what she remembered, they had some of the best foods in the city. She hadn’t been there long before her food arrived and it wasn’t more than ten minutes before she was finished - someone needs to start eating more. As she sipped on the strawberry shake that she had gotten as a dessert, she couldn’t help but see the frustration on the girls face in the booth next to her. And even more so when she noted the application in her hands. “Job hunting sucks doesn’t it?” She commented, her attention turning to the girl. She couldn’t exactly relate as she hadn’t had a formal job ever; only through the ballet company and now working for herself.

With her shake in hand, she moved to the booth and slid in front of the girl. “I have my own business and I have been looking for someone to help me out. What would you say your qualifications are? Can you Google, type, and talk on the phone? Because if so, you’d be perfect. I’m Valentina, by the way.”

[gbardot]

"Thats where I get confused," the brunette admitted. "If they want personal references how does that help professionally? And vice versa, I suppose. How often is it that the two intersect and can speak on your work ethic?"

By the minute Genevieve was making it obvious just how little work experience she had under her belt. With her entire life being wrapped up in dance since she was a child she'd never needed it.

There'd only been one path for the ballerina.

With a huff shooting out of her nose, the Wilmington native's lips pursed. That's what she was afraid of. Most of what she'd always heard people drone on about was how much they hated their jobs or working. "And how many people out there actually love their jobs?"

There was familiarity with the fellow brunette, but hazel averted from looking over Olivia's face too long. This return to her hometown wasn't a happy one and she wasn't exactly all too proud of the places she'd been. At least not enough to openly announce a return. / @olivialogarzo

Shifts ending mid-day, or when they started late at night because she was on call, usually meant taking the trip out to Rizzo's, load up on carbs, and then hang around until she was needed. Today was no exception as she settled down and pretended to glance over the menu despite knowing exactly what she wanted. A voice, a familiar voice, perked her head up. "Well to make sure you're not bullshitting them for starters. Shows a good mix of your personality and work ethic."

At least that's what she'd heard. She and Keegan had gone into the medical field, Dakota got by with one reference; her, and Olivia was pretty sure it was only because she was an attending at the hospital.

"Pretty sure that's not how it works, you'd have to find three happy employees who don't hate their job first."

[gbardot]

— characters: genevieve & open — setting: rizzo's diner — status: open starter

"God, please let this be worth it," Genevieve groaned as she worked her way through another job application. There was nothing that she wanted to do ( other than dance ) and nothing that she was qualified for, really. Which only made this process all the more painful to get through.

The stress of being jobless and living on a prayer at this point should've sent Gen into high anxiety, yet the brunette could only complain. "What's the point of three references," she asked openly, exasperation in her delivery. As someone with a very tainted reputation it brought her to hate this process because she realized she only had her parents to list, and that wouldn't work.

"Honestly, I think I might start doing the same," should she get an interview of course, "like— let me talk to three happy employees. Right?"

[gbardot]

When one could sleep and felt completely unsettled by every little thing in their life, what was the best course of action?

Lay in bed with yet another existential crisis? Head to a club that had three things that could numb her to everything for a short while?

Clearly, as she stood at the bar, music pulsing in her ears, Genevieve had chosen that latter. Alcohol, music, and dancing. A lethal combination to overthinking for the likes of the disgraced ballerina.

"Maybe you're just old," the brunette commented. Briefly, hazel traveled in the direction to what seemed to have set the old foe off and Gen couldn't resist grumbling her response. "You act like you didn't do a ton of stupid shit like that when you were that age."

Hell, maybe Remington still did. It wasn't something the local girl who escaped this town at eighteen would know. Not since she'd only returned months ago.

Even worse, she wasn't one of Wilmington's success stories. There was shame on her name.

"Hairspray is a circus to you?" Then she rolled her eyes. "You're being so damn dramatic. Chill out and have another drink." Genevieve herself was a bit emboldened by the spirits that had filled her last few drinks.

location: TRIC

open: anyone

"Seriously, the out of townsfolk get weirder and weirder." He more commented off to himself before downing a shot of Whiskey - perhaps to take the edge off from what he just witnessed. Some young guy who barely looked like he was 21 spraying his hair with a small travel size bottle of hair spray. Like what the absolute hell? Old, way more reckless Remington would have half the idea to light his Zippo and see how flammable that kind of product was. But he held off. "I think I am going to need a few more drinks to censor myself from whatever craziness walks through that door next. Hadn't realized this place turned into a circus."

[gbardot]

Mild panic had washed over Genevieve when her friend Shivani had mentioned wanting to come over for dinner. Despite having lived in famed cities known for top tier cuisine the brunette couldn't really put a dish together.

Unless avocado toast counted.

It wasn't even a stretch to say she struggled to get boiling rice just right, and every single time she stepped her ballet abused feet into a kitchen there was bound to be an alarm that went off at some point.

When she'd opened her door to Shivani with an already cooked meal, Genevieve thanked rarely appearing lucky stars.

A small laugh rumbled around the fork of food in the disgraced ballerina's mouth. "You mean you didn't take my silence as a hint?" Brow cocked, a hazel gaze gave her friend a pointed look. Usually it was compliments to the chef if everyone quieted down to dig into their meal. Once she finished chewing and had swallowed, Genevieve tacked on, "it's really good, Shiv."

Returning to her hometown had been difficult, but then there were unexpected surprises like Shivani, someone she'd grown close to in New York that had surprised her in wanting to reconnect.

"If you're brave enough maybe you should teach me some of your recipes," the brunette suggested with a single shouldered shrug. Hazel dipped from the dancer and back to the food, ready to dig into another bite.

closed for @gbardot location: genevieve's home

Shivani looked across the table in Genevieve's home when the other took a bite of the food she'd brought over. She desperately wanted to get the other's reaction but let her take her time until finally Shivani just couldn't take it anymore. "Well? Are you going to tell me how it is or not?" She said with a glint in her eyes--praying that the other enjoyed the food. Shivani often liked to cook and would always make more than she needed which was when the food would be shared with friends and neighbors alike. "If you hate it, I'll handle the criticism, I swear."

[gbardot]

[gbardot]

❝  The holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mould yourself through the gaps. ❞

Age: 34

Gender identification: Cis female, she/her

Residential area: Midtown

Occupation: disgraced former ballerina & currently unemployed

Two positive traits: Passionate & disciplined

Two negative traits: Impulsive & indecisive

Length of time in Wilmington: 18 years, returned 3 months ago

Faceclaim: Phoebe Tonkin

hair ribbons and pointe shoes, a record player spinning old jazz and classical tunes, empty coffee cups about and empty wine bottles by the bathtub, breaking into dance while walking, candle wax melted onto too many surfaces, and a radiant smile that hides how lost she really is

Trigger Warnings: death, heart disease

Born into a world that she never quite felt like she belonged in, Genevieve Bardot was always a particular child with an affinity for the complexities of life and the more profound problems most people around her faced. For Genevieve, the solutions were always secure, cut, and dry— she could take emotion out of her decisions, believing that it merely clouded her judgment and produced muddy results. Even as a child Genevieve didn’t fall into line with the other kids she grew up with. As her friends were playing house or imagining worlds of fantasy and lore, Genevieve preferred the reality she could understand. For her parents it made her a straightforward child, they knew what to expect of her in any given situation and yet at the same time they never knew what it was she was thinking, just that she was continuously thinking. The gears in her head turned as she grew into a resolute girl sure of her every decision.

Many people mistook Genevieve for cold, detached— harsh even but those who truly knew her could never doubt that Genevieve Bardot was full of passion. At least, when it came to ballet and when it came to the stage and the lights— her first pair of pointe shoes and her first solo. From the time Genevieve could stand on two legs the girl was enrolled in ballet, it was one of the many electives her affluent family afforded her, and it was the only she found any interest in. It was a regimen sport, that demanded discipline and fluidity, determination and passion— it was a fine line that you had to toe to be considered a valuable dancer, and it was made all the more difficult when you had to do it en pointe. Ballet was Genevieve’s first passionate love in her life. Her studies were often slid to the side; paying and bribing the honor roll students in her private school to ensure she maintained her grades while she focused on her true ambition; Palais Garnier, the Paris Ballet.

All of her ambition and hard work surely paid off as after high school Genevieve was admitted to a space in the New York Ballet company. For years Genevieve worked her way through the company until she finally made her way to the coveted space of a soloist. Her dream was in her sights, Benjamin Millepied was coming to the states to audition Ballerinas. The likelihood of any of the dancers even being considered was a phenomenal chance, but Genevieve was determined to dance her heart out anyway. The day came, and her audition was set in mere hours when the news rolled in; her brother was dead. A heart defect, an anomaly that no one had accounted for. Devastation gripped Genevieve, her brother was the only person in the world who she felt truly understood her. The only person who she knew never judged a moment of her existence, who supported her in every endeavor and suddenly and without warning, he was gone.

Genevieve still went on for her audition, and as she danced through her grief, she ended feeling as if she had ultimately failed and let herself down. There was no way she thought she would be getting that position, and yet through the grapevine, there were whisperings that there were two dancers Benjamin Millepied was considering. She and another soloist who had been her most fierce competition her entire career. It was no secret the girls were enemies, always head to head vying for the position of the next Prima Ballerina at their company. Genevieve felt as if she had no chance against her, not after her performance, not after her brother’s death. Then suddenly her competition was in the hospital, a broken leg. It was a scandal bigger than Tonya Harding. A would-be prima ballerina in her prime was the main suspect of the attack on the young ballerina; Genevieve Bardot.

Genevieve’s career ended violently, the ballet world blacklisted her, and suddenly every ounce of her hard work was ripped from her. Every passion, everything she had left to love was pulled away with the same warning as her brother’s untimely demise. Genevieve was devastated; a villain in the eyes of the media, and there seemed to be no future for the girl. Then in a desperate stumble, she found herself packing up and moving to Paris despite the scandal once Aurélie Dupont became the new director of dance. In the haze of a night on the town, desperate for work, Genevieve found herself swept up by Purgatoire; a sideshow type of dark club. It felt like the most uncertain thing Genevieve had ever done in her entire life since the death of her brother, but the next night she was lacing up her pointe shoes equipped with knives as the most delicate point she would ever dance on. As Genevieve danced precariously, she’d release herself from the blades, and with a flourish of years of practice, Genevieve would dance to unique choreography as she took her anger and grief out on the stage. Twirling endlessly like a dancer stuck inside of a music box unsure of what her next move was or if this was now her forever. A year of sideshow work, not a chance of regaining footing in the ballet, Genevieve made her way home to Wilmington— where her family needed her. Frustrated, lonely, and directionless Genevieve is trying to find her way.

[gbardot]

PHOEBE TONKIN InStyle México (February 2024)