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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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What Rhymes With “AY”? Warning: This survey has 114 questions

1. Do you enjoy listening to reggae music? I haven’t listened to much reggae music.

2. Have you ever rolled in hay before? No. I’m actually allergic.

3. Has anyone ever broken a promise they made? Of course.

4. Last time you went to a café, what did you order? Coffee.

5. Have you ever been to a matinee performance before? No.

6. Would you like a chance to ride in Santa’s sleigh? Why or why not? Would it be like the one in The Santa Clause that had a hot chocolate and cookie dispenser? ha. Swap the hot chocolate with coffee, though.

7. Have you ever taken ballet lessons before? How about any other type of dance lessons? No. That was actually something I wished I could do when I was a kid and in high school. I thought the dance team was cool.

8. Do you own any sexy lingerie? Nope.

9. Have you ever caught a bouquet of flowers at a wedding before? Nope.

10. Do you know how to do the Whip/Nae Nae? I do, actually.

11. Have you ever played croquet before? Nope.

12. Has a horse ever neighed at you before? No.

13. How much do you weigh? I’m not exactly sure, but I am definitely underweight.

14. Do you ever wear a beret? No.

15. When’s the last time you’ve been to a buffet? Back in February. There was a breakfast buffet at Disneyland where you got to visit with various characters while you ate. It was cute.

16. Have you ever attended a cabaret? No.

17. Have you ever eaten at Swiss Chalet? No. Never even heard of it.

18. Do you know how to crochet? How about doing macrame? No.

19. Do you have a duvet on your bed? No.

20. What was the last thing that ricocheted off of a surface? My phone did.

21. What do you put on your ice cream sundaes? I’m good with just vanilla ice cream and strawberry syrup, but sometimes I’ll add chocolate syrup as well. Bananas and whip cream are also great additions. Wow, it’s been yearsss since I’ve had one but that sounds really good right now.

22. Have you ever woken up to the “Reveille” bugle wake-up call at summer camp? No. I’ve never been to summer camp.

23. What is your favorite entrée to order at your favorite restaurant? My favorite restaurant is Wingstop and I always get the garlic parm and lemon pepper boneless wings.

24. Is crème brulee your favorite dessert? I don’t like actual creme brulee, but I like the creme brulee latte at Starbucks that they offer in the winter.

25. Do you know anyone who wears a toupee? I don’t think so.

26. Have you ever made a soufflé before? Was it good? Nope. I like the spinach and artichoke breakfast souffle from Panera, though.

27. Do you prefer ice cream or sorbet? Ice cream.

28. Do you know anyone named Renee, Jay, Clay, or Ray? I know someone whose middle name is Renee if that counts, and I also know a Jay and a Ray.

29. Have you ever had café au lait? Yes.

30. Have you ever gone to a restaurant called “Chez ______”? No.

31. Hey, how’s it going? It’s almost 730AM I should be going to sleep. My medicine I took a bit ago is making me feel a little nauseous, too, cause I took it on an empty stomach. That wouldn’t have been a problem if I just went to bed, but nooo. :/

32. When’s the last time you wore a lei? It’s been several years.

33. Did you obey your parents when you were younger? Yes.

34. Who do you want to hunt down like prey? No one.

35. Have you ever had whey before? No.

36. What message would you like to convey to someone right now? Nothing at the moment.

37. Whose survey did you take last? I don’t know who made it.

38. Have you ever been to a bay before? Yes.

39. Do you have a bae? “Or nah.” Ha, old Vine reference. Anyway, no, I do not.

40. What’s your favorite day of the week? They’re all the same to me, really, since I’m not in school nor do I have a job.

41. Have you ever had to read “The Cay”? Nope. That title doesn’t ring a bell.

42. Are you feeling okay? I’m feeling tired, hot, and kind of nauseous.

43. Do you know anyone who is gay? Yeah, a few people.

44. Do you like the acting of Tina Fey? Sure.

45. Have you ever listened to The Fray? Yes, I like a few of their songs.

46. Do you have any frayed clothing? No.

47. Do you prefer bluebirds or bluejays? Bluebirds.

48. Is May your favorite month? No. I only like saying, “It’s gonna be May” haha. You know, the NSYNC/Justin Timberlake meme.

49. May I ask you some more questions? Sure.

50. Have you ever voted “nay” to anything before? What? Yeah. I was a board member for a club in college and there were things we voted on.

51. Have you ever wanted to make someone pay for something that they did? I’m not a revengeful person.

52. Do you ever just lay around all day? That’s all I pretty much do everyday.

53. Are you a happy little frickin’ ray of sunshine? No. I’m a little black raincloud.

54. Is there something that you would like to say to someone? “There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know howwww.”

55. When’s the last time that you were so excited that you exclaimed (or at least thought) “yay!” ? I said that the other night when my brother said he was making his bomb spaghetti. haha.

56. Have you ever felt like you’ve lost your way? I’ve been feeling that way for the past few years.

57. Do you ever wish that people would just go away? lol I’ve felt that way in some situations.

58. Have you heard an animal bray before? What animal was it? Yeah, a donkey.

59. What’s the last thing that you made out of clay? Nothing.

60. Are you starting to go gray? I’ve found a few here and there. D: It was like the minute I turned 30 I found my first one, ha.

61. Are you feeling okay right now? No. I still feel how I felt earlier when you asked how it was goin’. :/

62. Do you pray? How often? Yes, but not nearly as much as I ought to.

63. What’s the best play you’ve seen before? The Phantom of the Opera.

64. What did you like to play with when you were younger? I was obsessed Barbies, I could play for hours. I also liked playing house and school.

65. Do you know how to sashay? “Sashay away.”

66. Would you like to slay dragons? Nah. I wouldn’t want to mess with a dragon.

67. Have you gotten your pets spayed? All my dogs were fixed/spayed. My doggo was spayed before we could take her home from the adoption shelter.

68. Have you ever begged someone to stay with you? Not begged, but I didn’t want them to leave.

69. Has the room ever started to sway before? I hateeee that feeling.

70. When’s the last time you ate a meal on a tray? Uhhh. I don’t recall.

71. Do you know how to do math arrays? You’re speaking math so no.

72. Have you ever experienced a delay of any sort? Yeah.

73. Do you have any tooth decay? No.

74. When’s the last time you wrote an essay? What was it about? Back when I was still in school, so it’s been 5 years now since the last time.

75. When’s the last time you competed in a relay race? I participated in a few wheelchair race events when I was a kid.

76. Have you ever wondered how you could ever repay someone? Yes. I wish I could spoil and take care of my mom one day for everything she has done and continues to do for me. She deserves so much.

77. What did you do today? So far just Tumblr, surveys, and listening to ASMR.

78. Would you ever take in a stray animal? We don’t really have room for another pet, but I’d want to help in some way. Once we had a stray dog wander in our backyard and we took care of him until we were able to find him a good home. We also once had a cat who often went into our backyard and she ended up having kittens, so we cared for them and found them all homes, including the mama.

79. What’s the last cleaning spray that you’ve used? Lysol disinfectant spray.

80. When’s the last time you splayed your fingers? I’ll do it right now.

81. Has your airway ever been blocked before? Yes. Such a scary, traumatizing experience. It’s why I can’t take pills now at all unless I can crush them.

82. Has anyone ever led you astray? In some ways.

83. When it’s hot out, do you sleep with blankets anyways? Noooo.

84. Have you ever felt betrayed? Yep. Not a nice feeling.

85. When’s the last time you listened to a DJ? My cousin’s quince a few years ago.

86. What’s the last unfortunate thing that happened, to your dismay? This pandemic.

87. When is payday? The 1st of the month (disability).

88. Do good moments or bad moments replay through your mind more often? My mind likes to dwell on all the bad stuff instead.

89. Do you prepay for anything? I typically like to pay all my bills at the same time each month instead of waiting until the day each of them are due.

90. Have you ever walked on a runway before? No.

91. Do you know a runaway? No.

92. Have you ever ridden the subway before? How about driven on the skyway? Nope.

93. Have you ever used an ashtray before? No.

94.How do you feel about public displays of affection? I don’t mind a little bit, like a quick kiss, hand holding, arms around each other, or a hug.

95. Where would you like to go for a getaway? I wish I could rent a beach house and have my own private beach area.

96. Do you do any gateway drugs? Some say weed is a gateway drug, but I personally never had any interest in try anything beyond that.

97. Have you ever felt like someone wasn’t meeting you halfway? Yes.

98. What were you doing at midday? I’ll be sleeping.

99. Have you ever stopped midway through a survey before? Yeah, I did that with this one. I started it last night, but got too tired to finish it.

100. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas.

101. Do you like to drive on the highway/thruway? I don’t drive, but yeah I prefer taking the highway over driving through town and hitting all the red lights.

102. Have you ever put something on layaway before? I haven’t, personally, but I’ve gone shopping with my mom and added stuff of my own along with her’s that she put on layaway.

103. Have you ever been cornered in an alleyway? No.

104. When is your birthday? July 28th.

105. Do you know anyone who was a castaway? No.

106. How long is your workday? I don’t have a job.

107. What do you typically do on the weekdays? I do the same things everyday.

108. Is there a walkway or a pathway to your front door? Yeah.

109. What do you want to be someday? A functioning adult.

110. What is something that you do everyday? Drink coffee.

111. Do you park in your driveway? Do you even have a driveway? I don’t have a car, but yeah my house has a driveway that my parent’s use for their cars.

112. Have you ever won a giveaway? Yes.

113. How important is foreplay? I wouldn’t know.

114. Hooray! You’ve made it to the end! What are you going to do now? Eat my ramen. I was waiting for it to cool a bit.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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leswansong · 5 years

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Marichat May - Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes

Day One: No Powers

[ A03 ]

Marinette chalked her ballet shoe’s and waited stage side for her name to be called, she anxiously bounced in place, every little noise was magnified with her tightened senses. She tried to calm herself down, singing a little tune counting to one hundred, nothing seemed to work. The solo she was about to perform replayed itself in her head, she was relying on it to win her the lead role, this was everything she had been working towards since the young age of twelve. She had had lead roles in other productions before but this… this was a major role, this was for the chance to play ‘Clara’ in the Christmas production. Marinette wanted this role, she wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Her eyes flicked down to her shoes, she groaned and walked back over to chalk her shoes again, her constant movement had shaken her last dusting off.

She held her breath but let it go when someone else’s name was called, she rolled her eyes in boredom, they landed on the huge shadow being cast on the ceiling, she traced it to the source only to find nothing there but she knew someone was there she could feel their eyes. She kept her eyes train on the spot in where she thought the person was as she slowly backed away from the stage, her footfalls were silent as she climbed the steps towards them. She intended to cut them off in the hall leading to the dressing rooms but they caught her first, strong arms wrapped their way around her waist, she let out a yelp in surprise and one of the hands flew up to her mouth silencing her.

She struggled, kicking her legs and pushing on the arms in an attempt to free herself but the person's grip was tight and didn’t budge. Marinette couldn’t deny how terrified she felt in that moment, she tried to bite the gloved leather fingers around her mouth as he dragged her down the hall to a small broom closet. She fought to stay out of that room but he was stronger, her pointed shoes collided with the wooden door frame and she pushed against it trying to send her attacker into the shelving on the wall behind them, he let out a grunt when he collided. Her fighting back didn’t deter him, it just made him hold onto her a lot tighter. Her heart raced, she was panicking, she was about to die that's what her mind screamed. If by some odd chance she survived, she tried to commit everything about him to memory, his gloves and jacket was some sort of leather it didn’t feel like the real leather, his zipper on that ‘leather’ jacket was round and made of metal, it jingled every time she brushed against it in her struggle. He stunk of camembert cheese and there was also a slight hint of aftershave.

Something sharp dug into her sides, she whimpered at the sudden pain, he seemed to notice that and release his grip on her slightly. She used that to her advantage and stopped her struggle against him and he loosened his grip even more, he let go of her waist to try and close the door and she elbowed him in the side feeling bone collide with bone, he sucked in air through gritted teeth in pain. She pushed against him clambering for the door, her attacker recovered quickly, cut her off and slammed the door in front of her. She screamed when the room was plunged into darkness, his hand instantly found her mouth again and her screams were muffled.

Her back met a cold bricked wall of the small broom closet, tears fell freely down her face, she was now truly trapped and the moment she accepted that she felt herself ease. Her breathing levelled out and her heart rate slowed back to its normal speed, she stopped fighting and relinquished control, she became limp in the stranger's arms. His hand was removed from her mouth, the temptation to scream had long since died, she stayed perfectly still using the shelving to her left to support her weight.

“Well aren’t you a pretty one,” his voice was surprisingly sweet, “how did you see me up in the rafters?”

“What do you want?” she asked getting straight to the point and ignoring his question.

“’Le Grande Gazelle Blanche.’”

The name rang a bell, “the necklace?” she queried.

“Yep,” he replied popping the ‘p’, “the one and only, do you know where they keep it?”

She rolled her eyes, “why would I know?”

He chuckled, “A pretty ballerina like you-“ a gloved finger ran across her jawline, she shivered in disgust, “-most certainly knows.”

She rolled her eyes again, of course, he thought flirting with her would get him somewhere but boy was he wrong, “try again,” she replied, “I’m a student, there is no way they would let me see that thing and besides you and I know it only comes out once a year for Christmas and the last time I checked Christmas is six months away.”

“A smart ballerina too,” he commented.

“Anything else?” she snapped.

“All work and no play for you.”

“What do you want,” she repeated.

“Nothing.”

“Then why am I still trapped in a broom cupboard,” she asked raising an eyebrow.

He let out a small laugh, “how about I ask the questions hmm?”

She sighed and reluctantly nodded her head.

“Have you seen my face?” he asked.

She frowned at his question but shook her head forgetting they were in complete darkness, she opened her mouth to say no but he spoke first.

“Good, then I don’t see why we can’t come to an arrangement.”

“And that is?”

“I let you leave here unharmed and you-“ his hands found themselves on the wall beside her, “-you tell no one about our little chat.”

“And if I don’t.”

“Then my little ballerina, you may just find yourself in quite a lot of trouble.”

“Is-Is that a threat,” she stuttered.

“Yes, yes it is, now do we have a deal?”

She paused to think it through, she swallowed the ball of saliva that had built up in her mouth. Closing her eyes she nodded her head once again forgetting that he couldn’t see her in the dark room.

“Good, now keep your eyes closed and count to twenty, when you open them I shall be gone and you can go back to try out for that role you want,” his feet shuffle across the room towards the door, “and sorry my ballerina but you sadly won’t get that role. Start counting,” he commanded.

She bit back her anger at his words but followed his command, “1… 2… 3… 4…”

Her ears picked up on the sound of the wooden door being opened, she continued her counting out loud, he had paused at the door, her mind told her it was to get one last look at her before walking out and closing the door behind him.

“9… 10… 11…” she slowly stopped her counting.

Her hands felt along the wall heading towards the door looking for the light switch, light flooded the room revealing the mess her struggle had caused. She sighed and her eyes fell onto her tutu, it had been ripped and bent in ways that she had never thought possible, it was ruined. Her hair that had once been tied in a neat bun was most likely a mess now with strands of it falling down onto her face. A few tears dripped down her face as she set about fixing the mess she had caused, the strangers words stuck with her, it had crushed her to hear such words and sadly some small part of her believed them, no, she couldn’t think like that, her ripped outfit could easily be fixed with one trip to her small dressing room.

Marinette picked up the last mop and lent it against the wall. She opened the door and peaked out onto the corridor to find it completely empty so she stepped out into it. She quickly slipped her pointed shoes off and ran down the hall towards her dressing room.

She pressed her back against her closed wooden dressing room door, it was if she had just locked out all the noise and self-doubt. Her mind was free to process what had just happened to her, she pulled her spare skirt out of the wardrobe and replaced the ripped one she was wearing for it. She wondered if she should tell her dance teacher about the strange man, the turn woman was someone that wouldn’t believe her but it was worth a shot. Marinette fixed her hair tucking the loose strands back into the tight bun, she reapplied the small amount of makeup she had originally put on and ran back to the stage. She hoped no one had noticed that she had been gone for the five to ten minutes it had taken her to return, she re-chalked her pointed shoes. Something within her told her to look back up to the spot she had originally seen the stranger, he was back up there watching her, she ignored him to wait only for her name not to be called.

The judges congratulated everyone then disappeared out of the seated audience to discuss their choices on who would play the lead role.

Marinette never felt so angry before, she had never missed an audition before and the one time she did it was because she let her stupid curiosity get the better of her. She kept her composure all the way up until she closed the door of her dressing room, angrily she pulled off her pointe shoes and tossed them into her gym bag along with everything else she didn’t need. She ripped her jacket out of her bag and pulled it over her arms, it was going to be a cold walk back to her small two bedroom apartment but she reckoned her anger would keep her warm enough for her to reach home.

She avoided the other auditioners gazes as she exited the opera house, she kept her head buried in her phone. Alya, her best friend, had spammed her phone with text messages trying to find out if she had gotten the role, Marinette spared the girl all of the details and just told her that she didn’t get it, she swore that sometimes Alya was more upset at her not getting roles than she was at times.

Marinette put on her best smile to try and distract herself from the crushing disappear within, her anger had mostly subsided, she was still most definitely pissed at the stranger but she more pissed at herself. Her ex, Luka, had described her as a roller coaster of emotions, it had its highs and lows, its twists and turns and at times was unpredictable and went off the rails at times. Her mind wandered back to the guitarist, if she had the strength she would kick and scream at herself for even think of him after what had happened but right now she didn’t have the mental fortitude to argue with herself. She allowed herself to get wrapped up in the warm rose coloured glasses of the past, memories of time spent on his families houseboat and her own parents bakery, she smiled as the many times he snuck into her old dance studio with flowers flooded back to her, she couldn’t deny how much she missed him.

Slipping the key into the lock she opened the door to her apartment, she flicked the light on and stared at the dreary apartment she called home, she sighed in disgust and slammed the door shut behind her. Throwing her gym bag onto her sofa she made her way to her small kitchenette, the cheap bottle of wine she had bought the night before sat on the counter, she had originally bought in to celebrate whether she won or not but right now she felt like downing the entire bottle. She peeled the cheap plastic seal off and twisted it open, she didn’t bother with letting it breathe or with a glass. Marinette never liked the taste of cheap wine but it was all she could afford, she downed a quarter of the bottle in one go not caring about alcohol poisoning.

She sat down in front of her small blank tv, she hated how her life had turned out, she had expected to be a lot further along in her dancing career and not where she was right now. She had believed every little lie her dance instructors had told her, companies would do anything to hire her, the usual lies they told a twelve-year-old girl so that her parents would continue to pay for the lessons, how could she be so gullible.

She downed another mouth full of wine, she didn’t drink often so she already felt the buzz, reluctantly she put the lid on the bottle. Although heartbroken she still was a struggling dance student and needed to be on time for an 8 am class. She placed the half drunk bottle of wine back on the kitchen countertop as she passed by it to her bedroom. She tossed the clothes she was wearing aside before slipping into her cold lonely double bed. The springs creaked as she settled onto the uncomfortable mattress, she looked at the time on her phone one last time before tossing it across the room onto a stray pile of clothing.

Made for @marichatmay

Drabble Master List Next—>

#marichat may #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #SwanSongWrites #I keep drabbling on #Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir

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another-chorus-girl · 6 years

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“Love Always Knows” Chapter 2

Well it seems a few people are interested in this story, so I’ll keep the ball rolling for now.

The remainder of the service was just as sombre as mourners left the service.

"That was beautiful Christine," Meg praised. "I know mother heard it."

"Thank you Meg, it was my pleasure." Christine said as they walked out of the cemetery and into the city's bustling street. "It's very beautiful here, Angelique couldn't stop watching all of the boats as we passed. Is that why you and Madame came here?"

"It is very pretty here but not exactly why we came here. After the Opera Populaire shut its doors we needed work elsewhere." Meg seemed to be calculating her word choice. "There was an opera house on the verge of closing up here as well. But they had gotten new management and needed a dance instructor, maman was hired immediately!"

"That's wonderful news Meg!"

"Yes, he even let me perform with the other ballet girls, and now I'm getting to do my own acts!"

"The new owner you mean?"

Meg paused, "Yes, you um...Well that is to say you wouldn't know him, almost no one knows who he is."

"How odd," Christine said confused, "Not even his name?"

"He goes by Mister Y, no one knows much else. At any rate I hate to seem rude but I should be getting home, I have rehearsals tomorrow morning that I need to prepare for."

"Of course, I'm sorry to keep you." Christine paused, "Meg, would you mind terribly if we came by tomorrow? I miss the opera so, and it would be so nice to catch up more on the lost time."

Meg was hesitant, "You're sure?"

"Yes! You're my best friend and I feel terrible that it's been so long. And I know it would be a treat for Angelique to see before our voyage home. "

"Well...alright then. We'll be rehearsing at eight thirty tomorrow, the Sandalphon opera house."

"Sounds wonderful!" Christine smiled absolutely delighted.

Parting ways, Christine hailed a driver to take her to the inn the trio would be staying at. Raoul having already gone ahead with Angelique after the service, Christine entered the carriage alone.

Arriving at the inn, she opened the door to their room, seeing Raoul seated in the sitting area.

"Hello dear," Christine smiled at her husband.

Raoul returned the smile, "Christine,"

"Where's Angelique?"

"She was dozing off so I put her to bed early."

Christine nodded, "It was an awfully long journey here wasn't it?"

"Yes,"

"Well I do have some news Raoul."

His hazel eyes glanced up at her, "Yes?"

"Meg told me she's performing for the Sandalphon opera house here in Mersaile and said we could come see their rehearsal tomorrow. Won't that be fun darling?" Christine beamed.

"That's sounds splendid Christine." Raoul nodded

"And I'm sure Angelique will love it as well, perhaps we can go to their performance if we're still here. It's been so long since I've been to the opera." The brunette said longingly.

"I know, I'm sorry for that."

Christine frowned, sitting beside her husband.

"Raoul, what's wrong?"

He heaved a heavy sigh, "I've denied you so much since we've been married

Christine. I just feel like I've been a terrible husband to you."

Christine grasped his hands in hers, "Raoul stop talking like that. I love you and have never regretted our marriage. Dear, where is all of this coming from?"

"I don't know, I suppose seeing Meg and the thought of setting foot in another opera house just brings back some unpleasant memories."

She frowned, "That was a long time ago Raoul. It's all over now."

Christine loved her husband to no end. But sometimes he would get into these moods. These episodes of depression weren't constant, but when they resurfaced it broke her heart to hear him sound so low.

"If this bothers you so much we don't have to go tomorrow."

Raoul shook his head, "No. Please Christine. I'm sorry, I'd be selfish to refuse you. I know how much you miss the opera. I need to stop dwelling in the past."

Placing her hand along his face, Christine leaned in to kiss him.

"I love you," She mumbled against his lips.

"And I love you Christine," Raoul said truthfully.

The De Chagny's walked through the doors of the opera house, once inside it could only be described as a feeling of wonder. The foyer was absolutely stunning, from the pristine spiral staircase to the finely painted murals that graced the walls.

Angelique's mouth was agape, "Maman! It's so beautiful!"

"Indeed it is darling!" Christine was just as memorised. It was as if they had just entered a palace, and music was the ruler of this kingdom. Even while Raoul was not as musically inclined as his wife, the Vicomte was also bedazzled by the fine architecture.

Aside from the odd worker passing through, the trio were the only ones in the main hall, the opera empty save for those warming up for the next night's performance.

The opera house was like a maze, incredibly spacious as though the rooms kept multiplying. Eventually the faint sounds of voices and music could be heard down a winding hallway. The double doors revealed an enormous concert hall, hundreds of seats lined in red velvet lined the aisles. There were several private boxes in the wings of the hall, the exteriors hand carved with luscious designs depicting the Greek god Apollo.

On stage, the dancers twirled and gracefully danced. Unexpectedly one of the ballerinas lost her footing, toppling over taking two of the other girls with her.

"Girls! Girls please!" A surprisingly stern toned Meg called, coming on stage. Christine was stunned, aside from the youthful pulled up blonde hair, it was as if she were looking down at Madame Giry.

"Now try again, and this time Josephine please be more careful and less clumsy!" The blonde commanded, the younger meek girls complying reforming their previous dance step.

"Meg!" Christine called, coming down the aisle, her voice echoing throughout the empty hall.

The blonde turned her attention to see the family standing by the double doors.

"Christine! So nice that you came!" She said

"Thank you for inviting us, I didn't know you would be instructing the ballet."

"I use to dance when mother and I first came here. But there was an accident, the opera house has been remodelled but a lot of the original foundation is old and a part of the stage buckled when we were performing one night. I can still walk but my leg suffered too much damage for me to dance again." Meg explained with a frown.

"Oh Meg I'm so sorry."

"But I can still sing, Mister Y has even given me leading arias to perform. I have one tomorrow night actually."

Christine smiled, "That's so nice. Honestly, seeing the ballerinas take me back to when we were them years ago."

To both women they were fond warm memories, the two rehearsing with the other girls of the corps du ballet, the giggling gossip they would get into together, the nights the two best friends would sneak sweets whilst Madame Giry was unaware.

"What aria are you performing tomorrow?" Christine asked.

As the girls chattered away, Raoul and Angelique sat in one of the many empty aisles as the ballet rehearsal continued.

"They look so amazing papa, don't they?" The girl asked, her mismatch eyes beaming at every leap and twirl.

"Yes they do," Raoul nodded, "I remember when your mother use to dance." Angelique smiled wide, "Papa did she really?"

The Vicomte felt a warm feeling come over him remembering the night he saw Christine first perform, "Oh yes, she also sang beautifully. We met when we were just a little older than you are now, but years later when we met again it was during an opera and she was the leading lady."

"Wow..." Angelique breathed, many nights she had heard her mother sing either to help her sleep or to no one in particular. But not once did the child think she had once sung for hundreds on stage.

"I want to be just like her one day."

Raoul glanced down at her. She was still so young but Angelique was already showing signs of musical talent. When Christine would sing to her to sleep, often through the ajar door Raoul could hear them singing together, the sound absolutely breathtaking. When she had gotten her tiny hands on the sheet music by their piano, questioning what the music notes meant. Raoul agreed to hire for her a private tutor, but the rate that the child was learning was remarkable, even her tutor was taken back after just a few weeks into their lessons.

She was a budding prodigy. It was something any parent would be proud of, but for Raoul it filled him with a feeling of familiar dread. He wanted to be a proud father, but part of him felt terrified and uncertain.

So caught up and distracted in his troubled mind, the Vicomte failed to notice the child at his side slink down the aisle.

The twirling ballerinas were beautiful to watch, but Angelique wanted to see more, explore this place further.

Her tiny feet clattered on the marble floor. Angelique hummed aloud, spinning around as she'd seen the dancers do. The day felt like a dream, Christine had shown her daughter the beauty of music growing up, and Angelique happily embraced it. She had recounted with her a story that Angelique's grandfather told Christine when she was a little girl too. It was about an angel that would descend from the heavens to guide and show others the way through the angel's gift of music.

The child's humming echoed through the spacious halls. The sound rousing a curious listener.

#phantom #love never dies #au #erik #christine daae #raoul de chagny

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lou-bonfightme · 7 years

Text

un phare || [Snooty French Squad]

In which Daisy and Toulouse meet up in France during their summer holidays...

@delightfully-daisy

[tw -- none really? maybe some mutual self-loathing lol]

DAISY: Paris, it was said, was the city of light. That was what they told to tourists, at least, and most of the time, Daisy said that the phrase was best left to foreigners, outsiders, those that did not know the real Paris. She loved her city, yes she did, but she was prone to shaking off cliches.

But tonight, the city shimmered and glistened and as Daisy exited the car, she glanced up at Palais Garnier, lit up in all its splendor, and she decided that tonight she was accept that cliche--her city of light.

Daisy had been doing better. She was laughing more, her slips into a thoughtful, sad silence, less and less. Home had that effect. Even Andre seemed less obnoxious these days. He still teased when he could, but his jabs were meant to annoy, not hurt.

Tonight would be a good night, she had decided. She loved the opera house, loved walking the stairs, looking up at the painted ceiling, at the glimmering lights. Her mama had complimented her dress. Andre was apparently meeting a girl, which Nic was teasing him about, but it made Andre a little less willing to tease Nic back because he wanted to make a good impression.

“Do you think she’s going to be pretty?” asked Nic, as they walked into the venue.

“I don’t think Andre goes for anything besides looks,” whispered Daisy, and the two of them giggled and Andre shot them a look over his shoulder. He was walking a bit in front of them, head held up, looking for his mystery girl or whatever.

“The real question,” said Nic, as he gave his usual polite nods to people as they passed, “is if Mama approves.”

“Well, if she is here, then I would say it is very likely.”

The two were quiet on the subject for a moment, neither of them wanting to get into what happened when Mama did not approve. Daisy had sort of, kind of, mostly reconciled it in her mind. She did not know about Nic, however.

That brief moment of reflection was interrupted, however, as Monsieur and Madame Laurent came over to talk to them, eager to see how Nic and Daisy were doing, for they had two children of their own, you see, around the same age and Nic and Daisy had often played with them when they were younger.

They continued their rounds and then Nic tapped Daisy on the shoulder, eyebrows raising.

“I think I’ve just spotted Andre and his lady,” he said. “I’m going to scout--you stay here, he’ll run if he notices.”

“I’m just going to be around,” said Daisy, with a little roll of her eyes, though her lips tugged up into a smile. She craned her neck a little to see if she could spot this mystery lady, but caught a glimpse of someone else instead.

It was Lou, which should have been of no surprise to her, but even so it made her--oh, she didn’t know? Excited? Happy? Glad that she wasn’t alone after Nic had left? (Not that she minded mingling at these things, she loved it in fact, but it was so much more fun when someone was with you and you could mutter little things as you walked around).

She did not know if he had seen her, made eye contact, but she slipped to the crowd, closer to him, smiling as she approached.

“Good evening, Monsieur Bonfamille,” she said, making her voice as purposefully haughty as possible and keeping her chin up. “Lovely to see you here.”

TOULOUSE Paris, not only the city of light, but the city of love.

It might be surprising, but Lou had always enjoyed such an expression, because Paris was love. Stepping onto its busy streets was like being wrapped in a familiar embrace, its scents something that never left, like a lover’s perfume upon a pillow. The flowers bloomed brightest in the gardens of Paris, if you asked Toulouse. Everything was rich and saturated with color.

In Paris, Lou was at his most comfortable, the language flowed like a happy, bubbling stream. Listening to the familiar lilt of accents soothed him. And, at parties--parties like this one. Parties with glittering jewels and people with fine titles. It was where he felt most at home, even if he also felt alone.

Or, well, those two things always had gone hand in hand for Toulouse. There was a kind of--peaceful emptiness to being in a place like this. The script was all laid out in front of you, easy to follow, impossible to deviate from. Lou knew where he fit into this world, what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do. To some, those confines would be damning. They’d want nothing more than to break away from them. But, Lou ran towards them, especially when he was feeling as out of sorts as he was now.

He’d seen Daisy come in, no doubt, having arrived just half an hour earlier with his mother. Lou had not approached her, because she was--something outside of the cardboard cutouts that served as the rest of the people here. She was more, she was an unintended variable, she was an unpredictable element.

(In plain English, which Toulouse was not very fond of, he had not sorted out his feelings for her, which left him feeling exposed, vulnerable--a feeling which Toulouse Henri Bonfamille did not like. He did not like it at all.)

When she finally made her way towards him, Lou was certain she had not noticed his avoidance of her, since the room was, after all, quite crowded and both of them were expected to mingle. It was inevitable, however, that their paths would cross. At least he was on his third flute of champagne, which meant he could smile easily at her as she sidled up next to him.

“Mademoiselle Canard, the pleasure is all mine,” he said with all the charm he’d been taught to possess throughout his life. “Have you come to fulfill your promise?” His heart gave an unpleasant spasm in his chest, so he swallowed more of his champagne and smiled at her, eyebrows raised playfully. It was just a tease, anyways, a reference to the conversation they’d had over a month ago in a little cafe that did not sell wine and beer, that seemed so far away and insignificant compared to the grandiose of la Palais Garnier.

DAISY: Daisy loved to dance. She liked that you had to follow the steps--1, 2, 3, lift, 1, 2, 3, turn, 1, 2, 3, head to the side, smile, lift your arm. She’d danced ballet in her youth, and of course, danced these ballroom dances all through her adolescence.

She liked to dance because even though you followed the steps, the script, there was still something raw about it. People let down their guards when they danced together, no matter who you were. Your hand in anothers, your body against theirs, your faces close enough to read all the little things that they were not saying. She liked that. It scared her, sometimes, for if she could see it on other people, surely they could see it on her. She hid things less well than she probably ought to.

Another reason she liked to dance: you were not allowed to point that out. It was in the script, after all. Don’t point it out. Smile, compliment your partner, do your best not to step on their toes. Talk of galas, of pleasantries, of operas and ballets, of ambitions, perhaps, of your family and friends. Read their face all you want as it spills out in front of you, like an open book. But do not speak on that, never speak on that, unless they should speak first (which they never did).

That is how it worked here, however. She thought briefly of that first night she’d danced with Tito--off-script, everything about it, and she felt a red hot flash of guilt. She wondered if the people here could read it all over her face, her body, from the way she walked.

No, she told herself. Remember what mama said. It was not a bad thing. It just happened.

But she smiled at Lou now.

“Of course,” she said, tilting her head to the side. She swept her skirt into a little curtsy, and a little blush bloomed on her cheeks, the same colour as her dress. She did not know why she blushed (it was just a dance, after all), but it made her smile tug out a little more and she held out a gloved hand. “You know I do not go back on my promises.”

TOULOUSE She blushed as she curtsied. She had been blushing a lot, lately. At first, Lou had just brushed it off as her being uncomfortable about the whole Harry Potter fiasco. Or uncomfortable because he had caught her crying against the printers in the art building. But now, he wondered if that little blush, that pink the color of carnations, was for him. He wished it was, he wanted to snatch the pigment from her cheeks and put it on a canvas.

Maybe, one day, she might let him. Maybe, one day, he’d be a sentimental enough fool to ask.

“I was hoping that was the case,” he teased (though, it wasn’t a tease at all, but very much the truth), taking her hand gently and kissing the back of it, before tucking it into the crook of his arm in one fluid motion as he headed towards the dance floor.

His heart was pounding louder than the soft music playing, but, he ignored it—which Lou was very good at, as they took up their place on the dance floor, her hand on his shoulder, his on her soft, small waist. Taking a breath, he took a step closer, until he could count all of her eyelashes and the freckles around her lips, and see the subtle flecks of yellow in her iris that served to make the blue that much brighter.

He waited a beat, two, before he picked up step in the dance, taking Daisy with him, though she followed easily. She had always been a wonderful dance partner.

“That dress suits you,” he told her. “It looks like Rosa, a Spanish pink, the colour of their wildflowers.” He smiled a little. “It matches your blush.” And that, that was a tease.

DAISY Lou was very close to her now. She had to dip her head back a little to look him in the eye. This was familiar to her, they had danced together many times before, she knew just how his hand felt on her waist--long, slender painter’s fingers that always curved just so. It was familiar, and yet she still felt a little tingle up her spine. It happened every time she danced with someone. Sometimes she tried to rationalize it--she associated dancing with romance, therefore the touch of a man’s hand curved around her waist, be it a stranger or a comforting face, made her think of lights and passion and soft kisses and hard kisses and--

She was getting carried away, yes.

She had to focus on what was going on around her, the party, the chattering people, the dresses, Lou in front of her complimenting her dress and--

Daisy opened her mouth about to say something about where she had found the dress, but, of course, there came the quip and she pressed her lips together, blushing a bit more, before answering.

“You know I like to keep everything colour-coordinated,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Blush included. Might as well make it an asset.”

(It sounded like something her mother would say: turn your weaknesses into strengths).

She lifted her chin up some, casting her eyes towards the side.

“Of course,” she added, flicking her eyes back towards Lou, “there are some here who are...brave, and chose not to abide by common colour sense.” A smile tugged on her lips and she darted her eyes to Alexandre Laurent’s date, who was wearing a bright purple dress that was paired with a rather clashing shawl--not even clashing in an avant-garde, haute couture way, but a wannabe fashion stylist way which was just not working out.

Daisy turned her eyes back to Lou, pursing her lips slightly.

“Very daring, is it not?”

TOULOUSE Lou chuckled at her reaction, that little blush blossoming like a rose across her cheeks, visible even under the makeup expertly applied. But, he had a keen eye for such things, of course he would notice it, not to mention, he’d crafted the compliment to do just that. Which made his chest warm, proud of himself.

Her response made him chuckle again, shaking his head at her. “I do appreciate your commitment to the aesthetic.”

His eyes followed hers towards the bright amethyst coloured dress. Eyebrows went up, corner of his lips turned down. It really was quite garish, stung his eyes a little bit--was actually insulting to him, personally. You know, sometimes he was glad his brother wore mostly neutral tones because he was terrified he’d start dressing like his boyfriend soon (who was a wreck when it came to properly matching any of his outfits to the point where it also physically pained Toulouse.)

With a smirk, Lou slipped both of his hands onto Daisy’s waist and lifted her slightly, turning her so his back was to the offending outfit. He did it all in step with the music, too, because of course he did. He was still smirking as he set her back down.

“Too bold, if you ask me,” he said, “I think she took the ‘jewel tones’ theme a step too far--that blue is more--indigo than sapphire, though, I believe she was actually going for turqouise.”

DAISY Daisy clicked her tongue dismissively, giving a little shake of her head. She landed lightly on her feet, twirling as she did so, her skirt fanning out beneath her. Glancing back from the unfortunately dressed girl to Lou, a smile tugging on her lips.

There was part of her that felt a twinge of pity for the girl--but, really, anyone invited to this gala should know better and besides, there was a certain satisfaction to being two of the best-dressed young people in the room. Their colours complimented quite well, really, Daisy’s soft pink and the dark blue of Lou’s jacket. She might not be an artist, but she had an eye for colour and for fashion, and after a quick sweep of the room, she could conclude as such.

It made her feel a little better and she held her chin up high.

“Her makeup is quite unfortunate as well,” she said, with a little sigh, and clicked her tongue again. “Such a heavy look with bold colours rarely works out, no, no, no.”

She could have said more at the point, but she sighed softly, shifting a little closer as the song swelled, turning her gaze slightly away, looking at the bright lights and the rest of the people, before turning back to Lou, her smile softer now, less proud and hard.

“Did you go to the museum?” she asked, and for some reason she felt a little nervous as she asked this, for what if he had not, what if he had simply passed the passes to--oh, she didn’t know, someone else maybe. Daisy was not very good at hiding her emotions on her face and her smile wavered a bit but she kept it on still. “I read that they replaced the diplodocus skeleton with a blue whale one--I imagine you must be outraged,” she teased.

TOULOUSE Lou chuckled a little and maybe, if he was with anyone else, he would chide them for speaking such things in the presence of so many, you never knew who was listening in, looking for the next juicy tidbit to slip into a gossip column. But, Daisy knew these parties as well as Lou did, he did not have to warn her to keep her voice down. She spoke softly, smiling all the while—so that if there were pictures, everything would look light and fun and teasing, and well, that wasn’t quite a lie, was it? She and Lou certainly were having fun. If that meant judging everyone else’s outfits, then so be it.

He was thinking this, eyes skirting around the room, a little smirk on his face, when Daisy stepped closer to him.

His head turned to her, then, tilting slightly so he could catch her soft words underneath the current of the music. The smirk on his face evened out into something warmer, something more kind. He could hear that nervousness in her voice, like his ears were fine tuned to it. He had a very good ear, you know. He didn’t realize how fondly he was looking at her until she asked about the diplodocus and his features twisted in annoyance at once.

“Oui,” he told her, answering both her questions at once. “We saw our beloved, departed Dippy before he was replaced by that godawful abomination. You know, I don’t have anything against whales, but honestly, I may hold a grudge against blue whales from now on.” He wrinkled his nose slightly. “At least he will be cast in bronze, better than that horrific white bone of the whale, it just blends right into the ceiling if you ask me. The carbon-copied skeleton suited the space much better.” He huffed and then, his smile turned sweeter.

“Merci beaucoup, by the way, Berlioz and I had a wonderful time. We don’t get to do things like that together very often. I’m not nearly as entertaining as his copain, apparently.”

DAISY And now, a real smile tugged onto Daisy’s face, a full one--not just a little half smile with her lips pressed closely together--her teeth showing, a little dimple appearing in the corner of her cheek. She had suspected that Lou would be very passionate about the departed diplodocus, but she forgot just how earnestly he handled matters such as dinosaurs and museums (had not forgotten, really, only just let it slip from her consciousness).

“I am glad to hear that,” said Daisy, with a polite dip of her head, her grin fading into a more polite little smile once more, lips pressed together. She declined to comment on the mention of Ber’s boyfriend; though she was always a bit nosy and intrigued about the lives of her friends, she knew it was not her place to comment and that what Lou said was something only he could say. Instead she hummed a little.

The song faded away, the last notes sounded in the air, before a little chatter of applause from those nearby watching the musicians. Daisy took a little step away, glancing over her shoulder briefly, scanning the room for her mother or her father or her brothers, but then looked back at Lou.

She did not want to leave just yet; she could still feel the song in her ears, swaying a little bit.

“Would you like to grab some champagne?” she asked. “I think I would like some before I start making rounds and chatting.” She meant the last part as a joke, of course, though certainly some champagne would not hurt.

TOULOUSE The change of topic didn’t bother Lou, nor would the change of scenery if he was honest with himself. He loved dancing, of course, but he didn’t mind the quiet moments of parties either. He was adaptable that way. Mingling was a specialty of his, he could do it with or without the alcohol, though, as Daisy was probably well aware, it did make him friendlier.

“Oui,” he told her with a pleasant smile as he looked around. “I will grab us flutes if you’ll find us a spot on the East wing balcony?”

The song came to an end then and Lou stepped back, bending a little at the waist in a polite bow before sweeping off to find the waiters with their trays of champagne.

It did not take him long to do so, and took him even less time to find Daisy, her skin glowing, highlighted by the city lights twinkling in the backdrop behind her. She really did look lovely, Lou paused for the briefest of moments in the doorway before she caught sight of him and he moved onto the balcony.

They’d been out on this balcony before, much younger--the both of them. And much brighter too, if you asked Lou. Though, Daisy always dazzled.

“I have a gift for you, from the museum, a thank you, if you will,” he told her as he handed her the champagne flute and leaned his forearms against the stone balcony. It was quieter out here, the air cool against his face. The music and sound of voices still trickled out from behind them. “It is not with me. I wasn’t sure if you were going to be here or not…”

He turned to glance at her, eyes searching her face. “Forgive me bringing it up, I’m sure you don’t want any reminders but I--admit you worried me…” He pursed his lips a little. “Are you alright?”

DAISY As much as she loved balls and parties and dancing and mingling amongst fine people, these brief moments of respite somehow were the things that made everything else fit together.

The city unfolded in front of her, all glimmering lights beneath the dark, velvet sky. She almost wanted to hold her breath for how beautiful it was. There was not a place in the world she could ever love in the same way as her Paris, and for some reason, that made her heart pang slightly. So she was grateful, then, when she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Lou holding two flutes of champagne.

She smiled, acknowledged her gratitude, took one of them, and pressed it to her lips as he spoke. Her cheeks coloured a little then, too early to be the effects of the champagne.

“Oh, you did not have to,” she said, softly, quickly, though the fact that he had thought to get something for her made her hear it give a little squeeze. “But thank you.”

Before she could press on more, perhaps try to tease what the mysterious gift was from him, however, he shifted the conversation to perhaps the only thing (that was wrong to say--perhaps the biggest thing, perhaps the most obvious thing, perhaps the easiest thing) that she did not want to talk about tonight.

If it had been anyone else, she would smile and nod and titter on away. But Lou knew that there was more, that she would be lying if she did so.

Truth be told, Daisy did not know the answer to that question. Sometimes she felt alright, more than alright, in fact--liberated, almost, in a way that possibly should've made her guilty, but instead just made her sigh softly. But sometimes, she got the urge to reach for a hand, to turn and tilt her head up with a smile, and was reminded that there was no one to turn to and that it had been her fault--all of it, her fault.

Daisy shook her head gently.

“I don't know,” she said. “If I'm being honest. Sometimes I am happy--” She turned to face Lou, head tilted back, eyes searching. “Does that make me a terrible person, Lou? Happy, after all of this, because I broke someone's heart?”

She always liked his eyes because she could never quite pin down what colour they were--blue or green or any of the million shades in between.

“But then sometimes I'm sad,” she said, now turning away, lifting her chin to the city in front of them. “I don't think I want to elaborate on that feeling, forgive me.” Her voice was soft. “Sometimes I like it better though because then I don't feel as guilty.”

TOULOUSE Toulouse straightened up as Daisy turned towards him. It was easier to be looking down at her, it felt less--vulnerable.

He knew he had ulterior motives to asking her how she was, to how she was taking things. They were selfish inquiries, really. He wanted to know for himself. Though, he did care, he did not like to see Daisy upset. But, he knew as he asked, that while he may not know what he wanted her response to be, he knew it was of the utmost important to him. Which made him feel vulnerable because Lou did not care about what others though, how they were feeling. The more people you cared about the more exposed you were--the more likely to get hurt.

Her answer was not one he was expecting and it did something to him that he also was not expecting.

It made him angry.

She was happy that she had broken someone’s heart?

Lou had expected sad and he had expected guilty. Expected, maybe, anger or regret. But happy?

At first he was bewildered at the feeling. He had no stakes in Daisy’s relationship, why should he care? Shouldn’t he be happy that she was happy? That was good, wasn’t it?

But then, he realized: he had been Tito, not so very long ago. He had a woman who had left him without a proper explanation. Who, he had a suspicion, had left him for someone else, because he was not good enough. Was not--enough. She had taken his heart and thrown it back at his feet with hardly a care at all.

And suddenly, Lou remembered why he’d never fallen in love before Anita and why he hadn’t wanted to ever fall in love again.

His features grew hard, though this did not matter, because Daisy was not look at him. He took all the warm feelings he had for her--the way her hair looked like beams of moonlight backlit against the Parisian night sky, or her rosy cheeks--the way it was so easy for him to make her blush, or how small and fragile she felt in his arms. How she smiled at him sometimes, like she was so grateful he was there.

He took it all and he folded it easily and coldly into a box. Daisy treated hearts like jewelry. She wore it when it suited her and threw it away when it was out of fashion, when something new and better and shinier came along. It didn’t matter if this time, Lou was possibly the new and better and shinier thing.

Toulouse did not know what to say, standing there, watching her.

To think I may have loved you, he wanted to say.

He sipped at his champagne, there was the sound of cars along the alleys below and music rising and falling behind them, laughter and voices too.

“Well,” he finally started, “it sounds like breaking hearts is a tricky business.”

DAISY Daisy had not paid attention to what Lou had said the first time it echoed in her head or perhaps she would've picked up on his tone and how it shifted and how it lacked the previous warmth.

She was trying to steady her breathing because she was thinking of Swynlake and her motorcycle and dancing, but not this kind of dancing, the kind with loud music and a dark room and a stranger holding you closer than you intended. She was thinking about another time her heart raced, but in a good way, but how towards the end, it had usually been in a bad way--She'd been skittish and nervous and afraid of the future.

It took her a bit longer to process what Lou had said and by the time she did so (she played the words over again and the way his voice had shifted) and lifted her head towards him, she had stopped trying to hide the tears.

They brimmed at the edges of her eyes but she did not let them spill.

“You're saying it like it is a game,” she said slowly. “I didn't want to. I hated doing it. I hate myself now.” More than usual. Her voice was shaking but she looked right at him, trying to keep her words steady but she felt something well up in her throat and took a deep breath.

“I didn’t enjoy it. I feel happy now because--well, it was not right. There wasn't a future. We are not so lucky to be born into a world where we can pick and chose our partners with such ease--I’m not happy. I'm lying. That is not the right word. Perhaps--relieved...yes. I'm relieved because it was now or let it drag on and in my heart--” She pressed a hand to her heart now, feeling it thrum so strong beneath the silk of her glove. “--I knew it was wrong.” Her words flew fast, but they were steady now. “I loved him. I think I did. But in the way that feels like--oh God, I don't know--fireworks, sure. Fireworks because they are brilliant and beautiful but they burn and they explode. And it's the type of love everyone thinks they should have but you realize--I realized--that it is love that does not last it burns and it takes and takes and--” She gestured in the air. “I could feel it suffocating me. The both of us. It was either burn now or explode later.”

Daisy thought of what her mother had told her earlier this month: lighthouse, not fireworks. Calm, not storm. She felt like a storm a lot, fire and wind and there was not eye, no center of calm and it was all around her and she had to pretend it was not there.

But she smiled now. It was all hard, a mask, her eyes still teary, her heart still pounding faster and faster, her breathing quick.

“So, yes, mon cher,” she said, dipping her head as if to concede the argument. “Tricky business, especially when yours is shattering as well and you must go to fancy parties and hold your head up high.”

She blinked, trying to get the tears to vanish so that her makeup would not be ruined, and tipped her head back some, turning away slightly, because she felt heated and stormy and she wanted it all to go away.

TOULOUSE: Lou had not expected such a reaction, honestly. First, because he was not used to being around people who would pick up on the subtle tone change of his voice—slightly scathing, partially teasing. He did a very good job of keeping his voice neutral even when he said things like what he just had, so it left people squinting at him, not sure if he’d insulted them or not. Daisy was not no one, though. She knew him.

He should’ve hid it better. But why? Why did he care? He felt like lashing out at her—because—because—

In that moment, she had reminded him of Anita. Any time that scar opened itself up in his chest, Lou felt his anger and his hurt pour out of it. He hated that feeling, it made him feel weak. It made him feel like crying. And how dare anyone make Toulouse Bonfamille cry.

But, Lou wasn’t crying. He’d struck out and sewed up his own heart with the same thread he’d used to unravel Daisy’s. He hadn’t meant to do that, but, then again, Lou hardly meant to hurt the people close to him. Always did, though.

He didn’t want to look at her tears. They made him feel guilty. But, he also couldn’t drop his eyes away, because she was staring right at him, blue eyes sparkling in the dull light like a pool at the mouth of a cave. Lou didn’t want to be the one to look away first. So, he set his jaw and he watched those tears threaten to fall as Daisy talked about love.

Lou didn’t know if he’d ever been in love. What Daisy was describing was not how he felt around Anita. Around Anita, Lou had felt—light. As if the sun had filled him up and cleared out all the fear and all the anger and all the hurt that he had let sit inside him and rot.

It was not how he felt with Daisy. With Daisy he felt—calm. Like the surface of a lake in the winter, frozen over; beautiful and still. This was a nice feeling for Lou, since he always felt like he was burning up all on his own.

His anger faded away as quickly as it had come as he listened to her. What she described wasn’t what he wanted anyway. That was the kind of love that Berlioz had and Lou had watched it hurt him over and over again. Lou was filled with enough fire himself. He needed something else. No, he didn’t need anything, anyone else.

But he wanted. He blamed Anita for that too, for having such sweet smelling skin and little smiles just for Lou. She had made him feel wanted and that was all Lou ever wanted to feel.

Daisy made him feel like that too.

Taking a little breath, without breaking eye contact, Lou stepped closer, his head tilting to one side as he pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

“What kind of love is it that you want, then, Daisy? If you do not want fireworks. If you do not want to feel like you are burning.”

Is ice enough for you?

DAISY Part of her wanted to be difficult, to turn around with her chin up high and refuse the handkerchief, to snap back at him for being so cold in the first place, when she had confided in him what she had in no one else. But she looked at him now, and her heart gave a squeeze and she did not want to be angry.

She took the handkerchief without answering just yet, taking a moment to dab under her eyes and using that as an opportunity to calm herself down.

Daisy lowered her hand from her eyes, her fingers curling around the handkerchief still.

“A lighthouse,” she said, simply, pulling her own words from the conversation she had had with her mother a few weeks ago. She tilted her head up a little, chin held up high, for she was sure of her words, sure of how her heart was beating now. “That is what you want in a storm, is it not? I do think, ideally, both should be that for each other. Even if they feel like storms themselves. Especially, then.” She sighed a little softly, a little wistfully, glancing out onto the city at the lights that unfolded beneath them.

Daisy had steadied her breathing back down by now, but her heart still felt like it was pitter-pattering, like there was something fluttering little wings right above her stomach and catching slightly in her throat. She turned her head back towards him now, holding out the handkerchief in the space between them.

(She could have touched the side of his face if she extended her arm just a bit more. She did not.)

“Thank you,” she said. “I apologize for my outburst, it was not proper.”

There went her heartbeat again, fluttering, mad creature. She swallowed, trying to squelch it down, and, despite herself, a bit of a blush crept onto her cheeks once more.

TOULOUSE: A lighthouse.

Lou’s eyes squinted, just the faintest amount in confusion. He hadn’t expected that for an answer. A lighthouse was not how people described love. In all the books he’d read, in all of Marie’s silly romantic movies she made him watch. But, that was fiction, not reality. Love that burned was a love that fizzled out. It was a love, that, eventually, used up all of your oxygen and suffocated you.

Lighthouses were steady.

Lou could be steady. He always felt steadier with people leaning on him, knew he had to stand strong as a tower--as strong as a lighthouse. When people were depending on him, Lou knew he could look ahead and make the right decisions. Someone depending on him always made him feel more sure of himself. More real. Because without those people, Lou didn’t feel like he belonged to his body, he felt too big for it--like he was constantly expanding, air without a container, light without something to shine upon.

Why was he even thinking about this?

Lou could not--did not want to--love. Even love like a lighthouse. The bulb could go out, there could be no more ships at sea. And what then?

But, he wanted to be something for Daisy, to Daisy. Lou wanted to mean something more than he did, because he didn’t know about those titles anymore. Big brother. With two little siblings practically grown, who no longer needed to hold his hand to cross the street, who no longer hid in his shadow, or looked to him when things went wrong. Artist. Lou had graduated. He supposed he would work on commissions now, knew that he should probably go back into the party and discuss his paintings with members of Parliament or the high class designers, so that they would want to buy them for their studios and penthouses--as gifts for their wives and husbands. But, the thought of doing so felt exhausting.

He was lost, not that he’d admit it to anyone but himself.

Maybe he could use a lighthouse, though.

Toulouse was silent as he watched Daisy dry her tears, taking the handkerchief back with a soft smile and tucking it into his trouser pocket. He lifted his hand up with a small smile to rub a bit of mascara off the top of her cheekbone with his thumb.

“I don’t mind,” he told her softly. “And you still look beautiful. No one will even know.” The complement rolled off his tongue easily, because Lou had been trained in the art of compliments alongside the art of his paintbrushes.

“Would you like to go back inside? We can dance some more, if you would like. At least there is no one to both you on the dance floor.”

DAISY He gently touched the top of her cheekbone and Daisy smiled, a little bit of laughter spurting from her lips, soft laughter, just a breath really.

Daisy had kissed Lou here, before, once, when they were teenagers and Daisy wanted to know what it was like to be kissed, but properly, not by the boys at school who either were too scared to use their tongues or seemed to only use their tongues. She’d curled her hand on the collar of his shirt and stood on her tiptoes and kissed him and it had made her feel all fluttery inside, but when she pulled away she nodded, satisfied, and all the flutter went away and they went back inside.

Now, she felt all fluttery without the kissing. She wanted to pull away and get it to stop because that was the last thing she needed right now.

Her hand curled softly around his.

“I would like that, yes,” said Daisy, with a little nod.

She paused for a heartbeat, then leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, which was not out of the norm, nothing unusual, just a thank-you. The fluttery feeling did not stop when she did it, did not stop when she pulled away, did not stop when she dropped her hand and turned towards the party.

“Let’s go, yes?” she said, beckoning a hand towards him.

#bdrpdaisy #snooty french squade #un phare #i love this bc it's #so complicated #and so little was said #bUT SO MUCH WAS SAID #ugh #//clenches fist

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gramilano · 4 years

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The Royal Ballet’s Argentinian principal dancer, Marianela Nuñez, is in lockdown in Buenos Aires. She went there to be near her family and partner, because now home, for Nela, is London, which also happens to be home to her beloved company at The Royal Opera House.

We caught up via Skype in June: I was in my office in Milan, and Nela was 11,000 km away, sitting against an orange wall which steadily turned maroon then almost black as the day drew in.

Daily 500-metre walk

Nela’s dad during lockdown

Lockdown

Lockdown in Argentina! How’s that working out?

It’s very strict here. We started lockdown at the same time as England, pretty much – I know you in Italy started earlier. There were only a few cases, but obviously here there are more difficulties compared to Europe, and they were worried that the health system would collapse.

Here, the problem is that we are now getting into winter, which is difficult, and a lot of neighbourhoods are very poor. People don’t have running water and they’re living literally on top of each other. This is in Buenos Aires because actually the rest of the country is running more or less normally.

We’re only allowed out once a day to walk 500 metres, so we just go around our place, then everything else is at home. It’s unbelievable how suddenly your home becomes a studio by moving the furniture around. It’s been hilarious, and it’s incredible how creative people are.

So, why Buenos Aires and not London?

Alejandro [Parente, her boyfriend and former principal dancer at Teatro Colón] is the reason I came here because my idea was to stay home, and for me home is London. I didn’t want to leave London and my little flat, because I knew that as soon as things became easier I would be closer to my other home, The Royal Opera House.

I just wanted to feel safe, and the last thing you want to be doing at this time is travel. I travelled on the 22nd of March! At the airport, it literally felt like I was in a movie. It was scary and sad, so empty, and we were running not to miss the plane – it was way too stressful. But it was a complicated situation: Ale had only just arrived in Argentina from Italy where he was dropping off his daughter Luna who had spent the holidays with him in Europe. Then he was meant to be coming back to teach in Milan.

Obviously, that didn’t happen because everything was closing. Also because my mom and dad are also here, and they’re over 60, and my brothers too, it seemed like the best place to be. Otherwise, I would have been alone in my flat in London without knowing for how long. It was the worst moment to realise just how divided your life is. I’m just waiting now for the airport to open here then obviously, I need to go back home. [Since we spoke, lockdown has been extended in Argentina, and now she’s hoping to get a plane back to London at the end of July]

Believe your inner Nela

Alejandro making a barre

Barre made

With the homemade barre

What are you doing to keep in shape?

I have to do Pilates because otherwise my body won’t function and just hurts, so yeah, Pilates is a must. I just finished a session before you called. I do it with online with a studio opened by Luciana Ravizzi, an Argentinian teacher who’s a friend of mine from The Royal Ballet School, though I was already in the company when she joined. When she graduated, she went to Scottish Ballet, but we stayed friends. Then she opened her Pilates studio in Argentina. I’m doing three times a week.

The rest of the time I do my own thing together with ballet lessons that the company’s been providing us with. A friend of mine, Erico Montes, from Brazil, is a dancer with the company and he’s starting to teach, so he’s giving me lessons too. Sometimes Alejandro teaches me. I don’t often catch the live version of the class that the company does, but they record it, so I’m able to access it later. The choices are unbelievable. Olga Evreinoff, who often comes to The Royal Ballet to teach and take rehearsals, teaches us online. She’s a wonderful, wonderful teacher. I wonder if she ever imagined teaching a company via Zoom! She’s always giving corrections, ‘Stretch your knee!’ Fantastic. Amazing.

It’s also a way to see your colleagues.

The first time I will never forget because to do a class live with them online I need to wake up at 5.30 am – I’m four hours behind and class starts at 10.30. I did it twice! The first time I did it, it was wonderful –Zoom went on and suddenly you see all these people popping up on the screen. I was in tears. Even when I do the recorded version and I see everyone again I just… [tears well up]. Well, I’m missing them so much. I can’t wait to see them.

Self-portrait with orange wall and cat

Yoda

Nela with Yoda

Do you do class with Alejandro?

Alejandro does his own thing and he’s also teaching a lot, so basically he does his own little bar, but he’s quiet and I hardly even see him do it. He’s been giving classes to Rome Opera Ballet online and on Thursdays a class with Joburg Ballet in South Africa. Before lockdown, I was meant to guest there. I was going to do Don Q [Don Quixote], and as it didn’t happen, they were disappointed because it was going to be a highlight for them, and for us as well. So their CEO Esther Nasser asked if we could do an interview online, talking to the dancers and all of that. We did, and it was such a lovely meeting that now Ale is teaching them class, and I do it with them every Thursday.

That sounds encouraging. What are some of the positive things you’ve got from this period?

You know, funnily enough, there are a lot of positive things because online I see this big dance community that is all together, not just little groups. All over the world, we are trying to inspire and support each other. Every time I see a video of dancers doing class at home, trying to stay fit, trying to be creative, I find it amazing and I feel so proud. I feel touched to see how dancers are saying, OK, this is tough, but we’re going to do something with it.

I feel honoured to be part of an institution like our company. Our management calls us, you know, and they’re constantly in contact with us, sending us emails and making sure we are OK and providing us with classes online and ballet and yoga and all sorts of fitness. To feel that you have your company behind you is amazing. We’ve literally stayed together throughout all this.

I actually get very emotional because it’s powerful to see all these people trying to produce art from home and helping each other. One of the biggest positive things is that our creativity, and wanting to stay together, and keeping in shape to be ready for coming back, has come through.

The emotional element is palpable. Another Royal Ballet dancer told me that the company was offering some of their online teaching to smaller companies who don’t have that possibility. That’s a beautiful thing to do.

Kevin [O’Hare – director of The Royal Ballet] decided to just open it up because not every company has the facilities that we do. It’s an amazing gesture. It’s kind of scary right now, and a gesture like this brings the community together. It’s just phenomenal. I was so touched.

Beginnings

So you’re back in Argentina where it all began… why did your mother send you to ballet school? Why not gymnastics or something else?

I had three brothers, so everything was very boyish at home. Football, football, football. My mom had had enough, and finally a girl finally arrived she was like, ‘OK, thank God, I’m not alone in the house anymore!’ She dressed me in pink. She loved dancing herself, and although my granddad was amazing – my number one fan, now looking down at me from up there [she indicates the heavens] – he didn’t want her to dance. She just did a little bit of Argentinian folk dancing and that was it. So as my mom loves dancing, she took me to a little ballet studio, three blocks away from our house.

What she didn’t expect is that little Nela would love it too. The teacher’s studio was her garage. She would take the car out and there were some barres and a concrete floor. My kindergarten friends were also there but it wasn’t serious enough for me… it was more like playing. Why I wanted something else I can’t explain because I had never seen ballet, but that little girl said that she wanted to dance seriously. I think you’re born with your calling and there is no other way.

I read this wonderful book that you have to read. I had it in my dressing room and Alex Ferri saw it and she said, ‘Oh my God, I’ve read it, it’s wonderful.’ It’s called The Soul’s Code by James Hillman. It’s about how you are born with this, and no matter what you think, if it’s definitely your calling, somehow you’ll get there.

It may have been your calling, but for you to fulfil that it must have meant a big change for your family.

For the family it was a revolution, especially when I really took it seriously because from that studio, I went to another studio, still in the neighbourhood, but where they only did ballet. But it still wasn’t the Teatro Colón, you know? But the teacher was wonderful and actually she’s a figure that is still in my life, helping with the shows that I do at home every year for charity. She had trained at the Colón school and she said, as soon as she saw me, ‘She’s got a lot of talent, she’s determined, and she’s disciplined, and I think she should definitely go to the centre of the city to study.’ She and another teacher got me ready and I was accepted.

When that finally happened, my mom had to travel around with me a lot as we lived far away from the Teatro Colón school. I basically stole away my mom for me, and my brothers had to adapt to that; so it was a big shift for the family. My grandma would stay and cook for them. But they all did it, and I’m so grateful because obviously I was doing what I loved but the whole family had to support that. Even though they were not interested in ballet, they were definitely interested in what I was doing and my achievements.

And do they come and see you dance now?

They do. They watch everything online and if our relays are shown in Argentina they will go. They read everything that’s printed about me and are super proud.

Nela backstage with her parents

Nela with her parents

Nela in her parents’ house

How old were you when you entered the Teatro Colón School?

At the Colón school you start at eight years old and you finish at 18, so it’s ten years. But I only did half of that because Maximiliano Guerra wanted me to dance with him when I was about 13. He was doing the same as I do now when during the summer break in Europe, he would come to Argentina and do his performances here. There was a tour that he was doing around Argentina with La Scala principal Anita Magyari.

So we toured around Argentina. They were doing the third act pas de deux from Don Q and I was one of the two friends. At the end of that tour, Anita had to return to Europe and as there were some performances in Uruguay coming up, he said, ‘OK, I’ll dance with you.’ We did Don Q and the Diana and Acteon pas de deux. I mean, unbelievable! I was always super star-struck with him, and he had this wonderful presence, but when you’re young and naïve you just kind of do it, like you don’t really see what’s happening.

We were at the beautiful Teatro Solís in Uruguay and I remember when we finished the Don Q I was thinking, thank God I made it. But the audience went wild and wanted us to repeat the coda. We did. That meant doing the 32 fouettés again.

I had a temperature afterwards from all the pressure and I was shaking when we were having dinner, but it was wonderful. At that performance was Raquel Rossetti who was the director of the Teatro Colón and had been a principal ballerina. She said, listen, I want you in the company. So I joined the company of Teatro Colón right after that. I was 14.

I did a lot of corps de ballet work, but the director really liked me, so whenever there was a gala somewhere, she would take me to do a pas de deux, and that’s when I danced with Alejandro for the first time – I was 14, he was 24! We did the Don Q, and Graham you have to see that online – I’ll send you the link. I stayed in the company that year, but I’d known since I was about 11 that I wanted a career outside Argentina, and I had it clear that The Royal Ballet was my dream company.

I had all the videos: La fille [mal gardée] with Leslie [Collier], Bayadère with Altynai [Asylmuratova], Darcey [Bussell] and Irek [Mukhamedov], Romeo and Juliet with Alessandra [Ferri] and Wayne Eagling, Manon with Sir Anthony Dowell… I had all of them. I had never seen ballets like that before. I saw Onegin at the Colón and although I was really young, I went, whoa, as I’d never seen anything like it. But all the other powerful ballets I saw were on video and with all my favourite dancers at The Royal Ballet.

Teachers explained how the company’s repertoire was amazing and how important repertoire is in a dancer’s life. Massimiliano said, ‘If you go to a company like that, not only will you have all that, but also, they will look after you properly; with someone like you who is super talented, it could easily happen that people will take advantage and you’ll get burnt out, but in a company like that you will be guided, and you will grow as an artist.’

So I decided to audition for my dream company. It was my 15th birthday. The fiesta de quince años for a girl here in South America, especially in Argentina, is big. You have a party, kind of like a wedding, and you wear a big dress. My parents said, ‘It’s either the party or we’ll pay for the ticket for you to go to LA.’ The company was in Los Angeles on tour, so I went to LA, auditioned, and I got my place.

The Royal Ballet

Did you know that you couldn’t immediately go into the company and work because you were too young?

Actually, I didn’t know. When I auditioned, that wasn’t taken into consideration. But then they said, ‘No way, you’re 15, you can’t, it’s not possible.’ So they said, ‘Listen, we’ll keep the contract for you, so go to The Royal Ballet School for one year and when you turn 16 you can join the company.’ So I said, ‘OK, fine, I’ll go back to school.’ Now, this is me looking back, being mature about it, but at the time it was a little bit hard for a 15-year-old to understand. I’d been dancing all these roles, but I had to go back to school. It was emotionally quite difficult because I was in a new country, far away from my family. But it was a blessing. I needed to finish school and I needed to learn the language. I also needed to learn what the company was about, what our style was about, what the history of the company was. I just needed to nurture myself. So that was definitely, definitely the right choice. That was back in 1997.

It was necessary.

It was totally necessary. From a very young age, my teachers here had given me a strong technique, a really good base, so that’s why I could do all that stuff. I probably was born with some of that, but I think my teachers played a big part in it. They gave me the confidence to be on the stage. When you see pictures of me in competitions, or the videos with Massimiliano or that video with Ale, you can’t believe it’s only a girl. Of course, you see it’s not refined, and my port de bras is not great, but there is a presence, and even though I’m standing with principal dancers, there is nothing childish about it. I guess my teachers gave me that. What I needed to learn in London was how to refine all that strength and confidence and really understand what this art form is about.

What opened my mind in London was the importance of stagecraft and the artistic side of things. I had seen that, obviously, in the videos that I had, but when I saw it live when I attended my first full call, I was amazed. I just had never seen ballet done like that before – they weren’t just dancers; they were actors.

It was Belinda Hately in Giselle. I loved her so much… beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. And it was her debut. I had never seen a ballerina like that. And then I kept looking around the stage and usually in the classics people will be standing all in the same way and moving their arm at the same time. This was the first time I saw each person in the corps de ballet with their own character and they were standing in different ways. They were not reacting in the same way at the same time. I had never seen such a beautiful thing in my life; it was so real. I thought, OK, definitely, I have so much to learn.

Your drive is strong, but not in a negative way. I imagine you don’t put broken glass in other ballerinas pointe shoes, but you just want to be the best you possibly can.

From a very young age, like five, I wanted to do this for real. When I started at the Colón school, I said, I definitely want to become a professional dancer. I knew I didn’t want to be in the corps de ballet. Not that there is anything wrong in being in the corps de ballet, but I personally wanted to be a prima ballerina. Having clear what you want from such a young age definitely helps you to focus in order to get what you want.

Tell the truth: you didn’t want to be in the corps de ballet because you can’t keep in line!

You’re laughing, but it’s true! Really! I got promoted to first soloist when I was a baby, because I joined the Royal Ballet aged 16 and usually people are about 18, so the girls in the corps looked after me really well. When they found out that I got promoted they were so happy and one of them, Julie Lack, who has a great sense of humour, wrote in lipstick on my dressing room mirror, ‘Congratulations. We are so lucky you’re finally out of the corps de ballet because you can’t keep in line.’

And I thought I was joking!

[laughing] It was brilliant: ‘Congratulations, we’re really happy that you’re out of here!’

Technique and preparation

I hear people say that you have an ‘easy technique’, yet everyone knows that technique is never easy. How much have you worked to make it seem easy?

My teachers gave me a good base, working hard on me to make it clean and strong, but they did it in a positive way… they never pulled a trigger on me, and they gave me a sense of freedom and ease. Now, I constantly work on my technique. I feel that to be completely free on stage and live the story and have fun and project that to the audience, you mustn’t think about the steps. The audience can tell when you lie, or if you’re insecure: ‘Oh my God, is she all right? Is she going to make it?’

I really work hard on that because, especially now, at this point in my career, I can use it to really let go. It doesn’t mean that I go crazy on stage and do whatever I want because I really like to keep my technique neat and in the style of the ballet. Just because I can do certain things doesn’t mean that I need to them in every ballet. I know what I want to do and what each ballet requires, and I think to do that you need to keep your technique in top form.

Genesia [Rosato, principal character artist with The Royal Ballet for over a decade] once told me that as the Queen in The Sleeping Beauty, sitting on the throne before Aurora’s entrance, she sees the ballerina in the wings. She said you were the only one who looked excited, as though you could wait to get on stage.

Well, I do get really nervous and the older I get, the earlier the nerves start… probably three or four days before a performance. I get more nervous now, but at the same time, seriously, I really want to go on that stage and do it. It’s so weird, and I can’t explain it, but there are other nerves that say, oh my God, let me get out there. But if you put The Sleeping Beauty music on now, I’ll really feel like I want to be there. It’s unbelievable. So, I do get nervous, but at the same time, my body wants to do it. I get most nervous before Swan Lake. With Swan Lake, it’s the whole four weeks of rehearsal that I’m nervous thinking, oh my God I have the performance, I have the performance! But then you hear the music [she sings], and you see the Prince, and I feel as though my heart is going to break. It’s the best feeling in the world.

You positively use that emotion and don’t let it destroy your performance. Others could crumble under the stress of that responsibility.

Yeah, It could definitely go the other way! But I was born loving pressure and pressure makes me kind of push more and get in the zone. It just drives me. I’m not going to lie: now that I’m older, there are moments where I have to tell myself, come on Nela, you’ve worked hard, you’ve done this before, you’ve rehearsed. So yes, the nerves are very strong but so is the passion and that counterbalance is fantastic.

Your career has been relatively injury-free.

Well, in 22 years I’ve never missed a season. I did have a couple of minor things. I pulled the TFL muscle, which stabilises the hip, so it’s kind of an important muscle and its super painful. The first time I did it, I didn’t stop. Like all dancers, I never want to miss anything and we were doing amazing ballets like Ballo della Regina, which I’d never danced before, and we were getting ready for The Prince of the Pagodas. I thought that there was no way I was going to miss that, and I carried on. Then six months later, I did it again.

The second time, I had only three weeks until my debut in Onegin. I had waited all my life to dance in that ballet and I was like, OK I’ll do it with one leg, I don’t care. But I seriously couldn’t walk because the pain was so strong and so I was crawling. It was before Christmas, so I said, OK, I can rest over the Christmas break and then come back, I don’t care what it costs, I’ll do it. I did, and so I didn’t miss that debut. Phew! I also had something in my foot early on, and I needed to have a little injection. It’s probably the only injection that I have had in my whole career. I’ve had nothing major for a long time, so I’m lucky.

And your feet? Those pointe shoes can be cruel.

Look at them [she holds up her feet to the camera]

Ballet feet!

They are taped because I was doing pointe work just now – but you know, I never had a problem in my metatarsal, and I do a lot of jumping… a lot! I don’t have bunions either, which is unbelievable for the amount of work I do. My toes are the only thing that probably are not great because they have a shape from being so much on pointe. So my feet are all right – they’re not pretty, but they’re all right.

They’re healthy.

They’re healthy. They’re not pretty but they’re healthy.

When you’re not in lockdown, what other things do you do to keep your body healthy?

We are super lucky at the Opera House because we have an amazing team of physiotherapists and it’s like a clinic on the fourth floor. We’re constantly looked after, so I make sure I have treatment all the time. I get massages during the weekends. I look after my body at all times, and the first thing when I go guesting is to find a masseur – I’m very conscious about that. Exercises and recovery treatment are essential.

When do you do a massage – immediately after a show?

It’s changed over the years. When I was younger, I would have a massage before the show. People were like, are you mad? [laughs] I’ve got such a strong body that I sometimes feel better when I feel more relaxed. I don’t like soft massages but really strong ones. Now, I will probably do it the day following a performance, just to recover.

You’ve said in other interviews that you are very neat and ordered in your house and your dressing room. Is there any connection between that need and feeling secure with your technique? Everything always is in order.

The control freak in me. Definitely. Yeah. There has to be a connection for sure. I don’t function without order. I say to Alejandro, look I need things neat around me because otherwise, seriously, I freeze, I can’t cope.

If you see my ballet bag, it is freaky. It’s like perfection. Otherwise, I feel sloppy. And it’s the same with my dressing room and the same with my wardrobe at home. It’s the same with my little bag that I take on to the stage. I’ve told this story before, but when we were doing Dances at a Gathering, not this time but around 2009, I took my leg warmers off and folded them neatly, as I always do, to put in my bag. Most dancers will chuck them into their bags, but I always take my time. We were about to do the pas deux and Fede [Federico Bonelli] shouts, ‘Nela!’ and I turn around and see him scrunching up my leg warmers. I gasped and really wanted to go and refold them, but I’d have missed my entrance. Oh my God, what do I do? It was like Sophie’s Choice. Of course, I went on stage, but I think there’s definitely some connection there.

Thomas Whitehead and Marianela Nunez in The Sleeping Beauty photo by Andrej Uspenski ROH

Show time

On a performance day, how do you gear your body up to go onstage? I imagine that you do a company class before the performance, but what about The Sleeping Beauty or a gala when you are offstage for a long while, and then you have to come on and fire off some technical pyrotechnics?

In our company we don’t do a company class before the show because usually we’re working until 5.30pm, so everybody does their own warmup. But if I’m doing Aurora in the evening, I won’t be rehearsing during the day.

What I do is that I come to the theatre in the morning and do my Pilates class and then ballet class with the company, but I take the rest of the day off, when I usually sew my shoes and so on. I start getting ready in the theatre about three and a half hours before the show – I take my time. Then I calculate for the role. For Aurora, I would probably be warming up just a little before curtain up, and then during the whole prologue. Then I like to put my tutu on for the interval and go on stage. I try things out with the cavaliers, I feel the stage, and then I go into the wings. I don’t exhaust myself. I keep warm, and I need to feel calm. Some dancers make themselves almost late so they don’t have to think about going on, but I’m the opposite. I need to just kind of drop, you know, just to be calm. If it’s a gala or something – and when I dance I’m often on last because its Don Q or Swan Lake or something – and maybe it’s cold in the theatre, then you have to be clever with layers and leg warmers and so on.

Of course, when guesting abroad, you might find yourself on a stage with a rake – I remember your performances with the Rome Opera Ballet where the rake is steep.

I used to freak out with rakes. In fact, the first few times I went to La Scala, I felt like I couldn’t dance. I think it was back in 2006 and then again in 2009. I couldn’t find my balance, no way, but it’s amazing what experience brings. I still worry about rakes because I’m not used to them, but now I get nervous, but I can do it.

What does guesting give you – apart from some extra income?

Many things. Obviously, you see different people doing ballet in different ways, with different styles, so it kind of opens your mind and enriches you.

I love waiting and watching. Especially dancing with Vadim [Muntagirov] we’re usually at the end with the classical pas de deux, and sometimes those galas can be long. So I like to watch all these dancers up close, dancers that I don’t get to see often, or only online, so it is super inspiring. Usually, the audience for galas are so excited and you can see the bubbles, like champagne, it’s fantastic… fantastic.

And the pressure dancing alongside other top dancers and having to show your worth?

Galas are like parties where you see all these dancers together and it’s amazing to see, but of course you do feel the pressure because, as you say, you have the best of the best around you. You just have to show your game, though after doing it for so many years you kind of know-how to beat that pressure.

Galas are actually really difficult thing to do because usually you arrive either the day of the performance or the evening before. You’ve probably done a full-length ballet the night before, you need to adjust to a new theatre because the floors can be hard or the lighting can be strange, so it’s certainly a challenge, but it actually makes you grow as an artist because you are out of your comfort zone and you have to make it work.

Roles, casting and interpretation

Do you ever feel taken over by a character and so immersed in the story that you are able to get lost in the moment, even while following the choreography?

I think lately I’ve gotten to a stage where I can do that quite often. Of course, there are performances where it’s more but always in the second act of Giselle you can totally forget about the world. Like suddenly you’re there. Definitely in Onegin.

In the last performances I did of Swan Lake before lockdown, well wow, I wish those performances had been recorded. It was unbelievable. And not just because of how I felt or how Vadim felt but also the company and the audience. I never thought it would be possible to experience that with a ballet like Swan Lake, which I love very much, but I get so nervous about. Seriously, I could close my eyes and almost forget about myself. It was like when we did the recording of Bayadère when we worked with Natalia [Makarova] and suddenly I felt as though I’d left Nela behind and I was on another planet. I think the older I get, the more I have those experiences, and they are super strong.

I think the audience senses when that’s happening.

In those performances of Swan Lake before lockdown, I could feel that the audience was in the same bubble as we were… there was something in the air. You’re right – the audience can sense that for sure.

Have you ever had roles given to you that you felt that you’d rather wait for, and also the opposite, that you were desperate to do a part and it wasn’t offered to you?

The opposite! All the time! Now, the mature me can say that it was right to wait for certain roles, but most of the time I’ve had to wait. I did my first Onegin when I was over 30, and also Manon. For Giselle, I was 27 or 28. So I have had to wait, but I’m now so grateful for that because I think you can do them when you’re young, but the understanding you have when you’re more mature is something else. It’s another game.

I recently did Marguerite and Armand and A Month in the Country for the first time, but it was the perfect way to do it because when you get the chance, you’re so hungry that you want to do your absolute best… ah, finally! Also, you understand things in a different way and you can prepare in a different way, and absorb the information you are given in a different way. I think that that waiting for roles, and for a lot of things in my career, as I said at the beginning of our conversation, comes from the fact that I was looked after properly as an artist. It’s a journey. I think I’ve matured in the right way and, after 23 years of career, I hope I’ll still have chances to learn and to improve. And I want to do it. I don’t think, OK, I’m done. No, I’m still like, oh my God, I have so much to improve on, so much to learn.

You revisited the role of Myrtha after many years. That seemed such a wonderful thing for you to do as it’s such a difficult role physically, but also so difficult to judge emotionally: she’s got to be strong, but she can’t be spiteful. She’s not the wicked stepmother, and I’ve seen dancers get it totally wrong.

When I did it for the first time, it was filmed – it’s the one with Alina [Cojucaru] as Giselle and I’m the queen, and I was probably only 22 at the time. I had the most amazing time with Monica [Mason] in the studio. She can coach that role like no one else. Someone should film her and put it in the archives because what you can learn from her is incredible.

We worked, and we worked, and we worked. She has such an amazing way of coaching that it stays with you. It really does. Obviously, I moved on to doing Giselle, and I did that for many years, but then the last time we were doing it, I said to Kevin, ‘Listen, I would love to go back to that.’ You know Graham, as you were saying, it’s such a demanding role, technically and artistically, but I felt that as I now have a little bit more knowledge and a little bit more experience, I wanted to go back and see what I could do.

It’s was a challenge because it’s probably harder than doing Giselle [she laughs]. Monica came to coach me again, and I remembered every correction that she had given me years before because it had made sense. It had such a big impact on me. You know, next time we do it, I definitely want to do it again because I think it keeps you intellectually alert and helps you artistically in many ways. As you said, it’s a very difficult role to get just right, and you’re the character that sets the scene: the first act has been very earthy and human with all this emotion going on, and then suddenly you go to a different world, and you see this person crossing the stage in a pas de bourrée. Monica said that crossing that stage you really have to set the mood, and you have to make the audience believe in the world we’ve gone into. It’s a huge responsibility.

Marianela Nuñez as Lise, Carlos Acosta as Colas and artists of The Royal Ballet in La Fille mal gardée, The Royal Ballet © ROH Tristram Kenton, 2012

Marianela Nuñez as Lise and artists of The Royal Ballet in La Fille mal gardée, The Royal Ballet © ROH Tristram Kenton, 2012

Marianela Nuñez as Lise, Carlos Acosta as Colas and artists of The Royal Ballet in La Fille mal gardée, The Royal Ballet © ROH Tristram Kenton, 2012

You danced with Alejandro for his farewell performance in Argentina in a role which I think is perfect for you: Ronald Hynd’s The Merry Widow. Those demi-caractère roles seem aligned with your offstage personality.

That is kind of where my career started. I always feel La fille’s Lise put me on the map. The soubrette roles, even Kitri, are very fiery, and they come naturally to me, so that’s why, at the beginning of my career, I was doing those kinds of roles. The Merry Widow was recent, but with Coppélia and Lise, I was worried that I was going to get stuck… get pigeonholed. I love them, but I knew I could do all the ballerina roles. I knew I had a dramatic side in me.

I don’t want to sound big-headed and arrogant, but one of the things that I really treasure and work hard on is having a full range. Not just for the sake of it, but because I really feel comfortable in all those different roles. I feel equally comfortable doing Lise as I do playing Tatiana, Swanhilda and Odette/Odile, Giselle then doing something abstract like Balanchine. I feel the same joy doing them all. I feel comfortable. I don’t feel fake going from one extreme to the other.

These two extremes come together in La Sylphide, yet you’ve never played her, or indeed danced in that other sylph-themed ballet, Les Sylphides.

I was never cast. It’s funny because a lot of people go, ‘Oh my God, with all the jumping and being so joyful, it’s so you.’ But no, I was never cast.

And you are good at acting naughty…

Oh yes, she’s so naughty – unbelievable! I would love to do that part but, like anything really, it would have to be properly rehearsed. I think there is so much of the style to get absolutely right. To learn how to do those movements correctly. And Les Sylphides? Definitely!

You know I love Makarova very much, and there’s a video of Les Sylphides with her and [Yuri] Soloviev [she sings and moves her arms]. Oh my God, I keep looking at it, and I go, how is it possible to dance like that? It looks effortless. It’s phenomenal what they can do, a piece of art in capital letters, and though it’s from many years ago, I don’t think anybody can come close. I keep rewinding and going forward. It looks like she’s not real. Incredible. To do a ballet like that, you need a lot of rehearsal… rehearse, rehearse, rehearse.

Like Giselle, they’re the ballets that are meaningless if there isn’t an understanding of the style.

You might get close to the style, but that’s not enough. You see Carla [Fracci] in Giselle, act two, and with some of the steps she does you think, are you human or what? It’s like she’s floating. And look at those eyes of hers and how they focus into another world. It’s faultless. You need to study these roles for hours and hours and hours.

Coaching at The Royal Ballet is treated very seriously, and it must be fantastic working with someone like Leslie Collier, the latest of a long chain of dancers who now creates new links of the chain by working with younger dancers.

It’s made me the ballerina that I am today. Thanks to The Royal Ballet, I’ve worked with the best of the best. You get to work with people who worked directly with Kenneth [MacMillan], with Ashton, with Balanchine and the roles were often created on them. It’s like drinking water from the fountain. It’s important not only for a debut but even for a ballet such as Sleeping Beauty that you’ve done many times to return to the coach. And it’s not just the steps, but they cover all the angles of a performance. It’s never, OK, just do this and do that, and then they leave. No, it’s about the meaning… why we do these steps. At The Royal Ballet, you are cared for from head to toe – how your makeup is, your wigs, the length of your costume, the lighting. You’re continually refining everything to the highest level, and so you feel safe because you’ve been looked after in such a complete way.

It’s the biggest advantage of being in a company, and something you don’t get when guesting.

I’ve built my career thanks to all these people teaching me, looking after me, dancing with me, and being able to see the others dance and share the stage with them. When I do Sleeping Beauty, the King and Queen are not just sitting there watching, but you feel like they are the King and the Queen. You do Swan Lake, and you have a Rothbart who acts the role which is it’s so inspiring. When I do Onegin, the letter for Tatiana is not just a piece of paper, but our wonderful prop department actually writes it. So I’m standing there, and I’m literally in tears already, and then I look at that letter and I’m in pieces. The audience won’t see that writing, but for the artists, it’s amazing. They’re doing their job at the highest level. It really is an unbelievable place.

Being Nela

After the performance, you’re very generous with giving autographs and chatting to people at the stage door, but there must be times when you’d rather just go and eat, or get home and put your feet up.

I genuinely love it, and I’m telling you the absolute truth. I’m dancing for them, you know, so it’s like give and take. I’m grateful for the fact that they have come to see a performance and given me their support. People go to the theatre also to forget about the world and their problems and to connect with art, which is so necessary for all of us. At the end, to have that interaction is unbelievable, not only for them but for me too. They’re sharing my passion and that’s why I genuinely love connecting with my audience.

That’s why I love social media too because I generally love to interact with ballet fans. Also to show them my gratitude for everything that they give me. I love to have that contact and if I’m tired it actually gives me energy back.

Do you know when it’s hard? It’s when I feel that I didn’t perform well, and I’m a little bit upset. It’s almost like I feel guilty. I kind of want to go, I’m so sorry, I feel bad, you paid for the ticket, and I didn’t deliver what I wanted to deliver for you. But generally, I love it and I’m so grateful to them.

Although you’re a dancer who adores everything about dance, what do you like doing when you’re not sewing shoes or doing Pilates?

As you know, I’m a city girl, and I love London, so when I’m not dancing, I make the most of that city and oh boy, there’s a lot to do in London. Even when I don’t have a specific thing to do, I enjoy sitting in cafes and walking around the city.

A lot of Sundays, which is my only day off, I go to Columbia Road Flower Market or the garden centre. I don’t have a garden myself, but I have window boxes, and I love buying plants and playing around with flowers. I love flowers a lot. I’m lucky that I get a lot of flowers after performances, but I just sometimes go to Colombia Market to see the different kinds of flowers and talk to people to learn about flowers. Hopefully, one day I will have my own garden so that I can really get into it properly.

For me, a lot about London is seeing performances and we also have The National Gallery just next to the theatre and that’s a place that I go to often. But for much of my spare time, I’m not going to lie, I often just want to stay home. I travel a lot, so when I’m home I enjoy having a hot bath, candles everywhere, cashmere socks, good pyjamas… just being at home, chilling out. Enjoying home is great. There will be time to do more things when I’m 80.

At 80, when you retire.

[laughing] Yes!

Everybody loves Nela. Is there a nasty Nela hidden away somewhere?

Oh, I can get in a bad mood. Probably my parents get to see that. Maybe not nasty, but I get frustrated, mostly with myself if things don’t go as I’d like or if things aren’t done as I want. I’m a perfectionist, like every dancer, but I’m good at keeping irritations to myself. The words can flow if a rehearsal is not going well, so my coach will see that, but it’s frustration mostly with myself. I wouldn’t be nasty.

You seem extremely happy having Alejandro in your life. What does he give you? He must be special as logistically it can’t be easy, living in different continents.

Ale is older than me, and we have totally different personalities. His feet are firmly on the ground. I think he has helped me mature as a woman, but also artistically. He often has a different view of things, and that has opened my mind to see things in a totally different way. He’s wise, and I’m not saying that because he’s my boyfriend. He’s a deeply grounded person and that has helped me a lot, I think people who know me have seen a change in the last five years.

But he’s also fun.

Crazy fun! Unbelievably fun. And very spontaneous. We laugh a lot. He lets me relax.

[Whispering] Is he tidy?

[Shrieking with laughter] No, he’s not!

I knew it!

I think he’s helped me with that because I’m so the opposite and we compliment each other. We balance each other, but he’s learning too: you know the Japanese lady on TV who teaches how to tidy up things? In lockdown, that’s what I’ve been doing in his flat!

Marianela Nunez by Rick Guest

In conversation with Marianela Nuñez The Royal Ballet’s Argentinian principal dancer, Marianela Nuñez, is in lockdown in Buenos Aires. She went there to be near her family and partner, because now home, for Nela, is London, which also happens to be home to her beloved company at The Royal Opera House.

#Anthony Dowell #Federico Bonelli #La Scala #Marianela Nuñez #Rick Guest #Rome Opera Ballet #Royal Ballet School #Vadim Muntagirov #Vladislav Lantratov #Wayne Eagling

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