Rooftop Ballet

TW: Suicidal Thoughts

A bottle of stolen champagne sat dangerously close to the ledge. One wrong move from the ballerina would send the bottle and her over the edge into the concrete twelve stories down. That night had been the final run of The Nutcracker, her last night as leading lady. Below, the afterparty raged strong as the clock drifted toward midnight, a new year.

What people didn’t know about ballerinas is that they were vicious creatures. They all danced on stress fractures and ingrown toenails, with a select few not opposed to pulling a Tanya Harding for the role of an Odette or Clara.

Serena had to admit that she was one of those select few, but she hadn’t been the one to push the competition down a flight of stairs. That had been a different girl, one stupid enough to get caught. Serena guessed that the company wished she had gotten away with it, because, in the end, their third choice, Serena, had to become the shining star.

All the years of training and camps and expensive lessons had led her here, to the rooftop of someone else’s apartment, where she sat as close to the edge as possible, wondering where her life had gone wrong. Wondering if she would even see the new year.

The event played over in her mind trying to figure out where the evening went wrong. She took her last bow. The curtain fell. She hugged and chatted with the others, and then she checked her phone.

Dan(Bae): I’m sorry

That had been the first text, and over the next few minutes she scrolled through the three paragraphs that let her know that it was him not her, and he hadn’t been feeling it for a long time, and he couldn’t do it anymore.

One thing led to another and here she sat in the cold New York air. She was so numb, she doubted she would feel anything at all.

“Are you going to jump?” A man asked.

She turned to him. “So what if I am?” Her reaction time was a little slower than usual thanks to the champagne and shots she had taken downstairs. She recognized him from the ballet. He was in tech, or something like that. Backstage.

His dark eyes looked up at her, then down at the street. “It would probably hurt.” Down below a few couples strolled and two boys were longboarding. They were far enough from The New Year's celebration that the noise didn’t reach them, but the lights were a loud beacon that thousands were gathered to watch the ball drop. It reminded her of a theater in the moments before the curtain rose and all unnecessary lights were dimmed. Anticipation rose, the audience quieted, the show was about to begin.

She picked up the champagne. “So what. I’m done. No more.” The bottle slipped through her fingers and plunged to the ground. It shattered into a glittering pile of a thousand diamonds. “Whoops.”

The stranger raised his eyebrows at the glass pieces. There was no one on their side of the street that could’ve been hurt, but the boys across the street curiously looked up.

“What?” She yelled at them while raising her arms.

“Okay, you’re done.” He reached around and dragged her off the ledge.

She kicked against him. “Let me go!”

He ignored her and lowered her to the ground after realizing she wasn’t going to be able to stand by herself. She glared as he sat cross legged in front of her. “I don’t like you.”

“You’re drunk.” He pulled a bottle of water from his jacket. She took a long drink from it and handed it back.

“That was kind of the point.” She rubbed her arms and looked around for her jacket, only to remember that she had left it in the apartment. He sighed and pulled his jean jacket off. It swung around her shoulders.

“What are you doing up here? Tonight was the best performance of your life. You should be down there getting wasted with your friends, not up here yelling at teenagers.”

She pulled the jacket tighter. “Dan broke up with me.” It hurt to say. Another relationship she could add to the graveyard. Another reminder that she wasn’t good enough, and never had been.

“I always thought he was a jerk,” he murmured.

Tears blurred her vision. “Over text.” That was worse. How humiliating. She wasn’t even worth a phone call.

“I’m sorry.” He watched her. “Were you in love with him?”

She sighed and shook her head. “But it was nice, you know. I’m not going to be dancing forever and want to get married eventually.” She had gone through quite a few men since she had moved to New York. The others were beginning to point out how she couldn’t keep a man. Thirty was only a few years away and she had nothing of real value to show for it. She reached up and wiped her eyes. Her nose began to run from the combination of the cold air and her fragile state.

“Serena.” She met his eye. “I’m sorry about Dan, it sucks being dumped. But you deserve much better than him, and, what you’re looking for, you’ll find it. You’re already one break-up closer to it.”

“Thanks…” she searched her fuzzy mind for his name.”

“Nathan.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “Nathan.”

They sat on the roof listening to the music from the party below. In the distance, cars honked, and echoes of people cheering bounced off buildings. She didn’t know how long they soaked in their surroundings, but sooner than she liked, the count down for midnight began. Neither of them moved as everyone around them rang in the new year.

“Are you ready to go home?” Nathan asked when the noise died down. She nodded and he helped her up. “Happy New Year, Serena.”

“Happy New Year.”