The room was still. Five girls occupied it, but only one disturbed the temperate air. Graceful leaps and elegant releves swished and stayed her flowing chiffon wrap. Perfectly, she windmilled out of a back bend into the chorus of a famous ballad. These spellbound teenagers were held in the delicate balance of the dance, the beauty, as pointe shoes slipped and clacked along with the guitar's careful strumming. Absorbedly, the ballerina in the center smiled at a move and lay down in her final position. A huge breath wracked every person in the room, oxygen suddenly filling their lungs. "Perfect," the most experienced girl said. "The cut in the music was smooth, too," the small one asserted. Thanking them with a nod, the girl with the heart-shaped face rose from her folded position. "Now let's get some food!" she grinned, a different smile from the one she'd unwittingly flashed earlier. More...personable. However the small one in the corner thought she'd much rather befriend the reverent girl than the open, personable one. She seemed more real to her, at least. But who knew what was real or fake in this ever-changing world? At least the dance forever stayed the same: perfect.
February 4, 2013