Bailarín Novels & Stories

"Get me another shirt… the gray one." With practiced ease, he stripped off the white shirt he had just put on and raised his hand toward me, waiting, as he always did, for me to hand him the freshly pressed one. The phone screen still glowed. I caught sight of Janine’s message: "Mr. Quinn, tonight’s event requires a gray suit." The professional tone was undercut by a playful cat emoji that followed right after. "What are you staring at? Where’s the shirt?" When I didn’t respond, irritation hardened his features.

After a while, seeing that I didn’t lower my gaze like the rest of the candidates had, he smiled and moved on to look at the others. When he finished looking at us, he introduced himself as Eduardo. Just that—no last name, no nickname. He added that he was the owner of a chain of cabarets and casinos. He said he only needed five new dancers, so not all of us would get to perform that night. He would start by watching five of us, and if he was satisfied, the rest would be considered for a future opportunity.

Tougher. You may know Lincoln Walsh as the principal dancer of an elite ballet company in New York City. His tattoos and extracurricular activities often create a buzz in the tabloids, but they also draw audiences to his shows. They call him the ‘bad boy of ballet’, and he doesn't bother disproving that label.

Elena, Charlotte, and Tiffany engaged in a mesmerizing dance of strikes and counterattacks, their movements a captivating testament to their agility and skill. Elena's swift kicks and punches flowed like poetry in motion, a clear demonstration of her martial arts mastery honed through countless hours of training and discipline. Charlotte, on the other hand, showcased her remarkable acrobatic abilities, seamlessly transitioning from a defensive stance into a formidable offense, her agile form a blur of motion.

"What's a foutté, again?" "It's a ballet move that involves whipping the raised leg around to propel the dancer, and it's often performed in combination with a pirouette," she replied, catching herself when she realised she was getting a little technical. "Anyway, it takes years to perfect, and I just messed it up completely that day and placed third overall." "Third place isn't bad."

“Apparently, her original dance was plagiarised by a popular ballerina who has been making waves with it without acknowledging her.” “Who is the ballerina?” “It’s someone closer to your family.” She paused. “Charlotte Davenport.” “Aurelia!” Zoey barged into the office. A large bouquet of flowers in her hands. “You have a delivery.”

In this move, a dancer has to support their entire bodyweight on their feet, which are fully extended. Grand battement (large beating) - is a move in which the leg is lifted to hip level or higher and held straight. Prima ballerina (Italian) - literally translates to ‘first principal dancer’. These female dancers are the best in their companies and perform the lead roles in ballets, along with their male counterparts.

He is feeling bad that she is enduring discomfort. "You look more pained than me" Thea teased him. Darius chuckled sheepishly. "You ok? I think we should cancel our bachelor party" he murmured. Thea looked at him with wide horrified eyes. "No" she refused immediately. Darius looked puzzled. "Why?" he asked with confusion. "Why do you want to cancel the party?" Thea inquired. "Because you are unwell" he replied as a matter of fact. "I am not unwell. It's called morning sickness. I will be fine after a couple of minutes. We don't need to cancel the party" Thea replied sternly.