Ballet Shoes Novels & Stories

Autumn gave her a fake smile as she puts the stilettos back into her feet. "I'm talking about your dark eye bags, Rosie. And you're welcome." Even if she already turned her back from Rosie, she knows that the girl was fuming. She won this round. She walked out from the hall like a winner. She was finally at the parking lot. She was almost limping because her shoes were killing her. As soon as she was inside her car,she removed her shoes again and threw it at the back. She heaved a sigh of relief as she steps into her comfy sandals.

“What do you mean, I have to wear this? I’ve worn nothing like this before. I don’t know if I can walk in these.” Tara held up a pair of high-heeled silver scrappy sandals. “It’s one thing to be a complete shoe or boot with a heel. But these are begging to break my ankle the first crack in the sidewalk I find. Or I’ll miss a stair and end up on my head at the bottom of the stairs.”

Alec instructed. Shola tried on pointed stilettos, red, black, nude, and gold. She picked a pair of strappy silver sandals that made her feel like a goddess. Alec added thigh-high suede boots in camel brown and jet black. He insisted she get a few pairs of luxury sneakers too…white Chanel trainers, pink Dior sneakers, and black Balenciaga slip-ons. She giggled as she tried on a pair of silver platform heels, wobbling slightly before Alec caught her in his arms.

I’m slowly losing my mind here, and it felt like I was growing claustrophobic in this massive penthouse. I pace the bedroom floor, so close to pulling out my hair, when my eyes fall on my pointe shoes hanging in my walk-in. Kai bought some after finding out about my love for ballet, and I hadn’t danced in nearly a week; I was starting to feel the agitation. I stop and look at them; hmm, perhaps dancing might ease my nerves a bit and calm my wolf. Grabbing the pointe shoes, I head downstairs barefoot to one of the powder rooms, which overlooks Central Park. I am sure that I saw a railing against the window there.

"Bring the shoe chest! Now!" A sudden rush of shoe boxes spilled across the mansion’s living room rug, their scent sharp with fresh leather, quiet hints of wealth lingering in the air. Out of nowhere, Smith had me slipping into shoe after shoe, some sharp beneath the sole, others tipping me forward like balance didn’t exist. Each pair worse than the last, each step a wobble waiting to happen. "Try this one! The Swarovski crystals will reflect the light as you walk down the aisle," Smith said as he put the shoe on my foot.

“Wait! Swan Lake isn’t just about the moves. If you don’t have the costume and the look, what’s the point of you dancing it in casual clothes?” She took out a set of clothes and a pair of shoes from the cabinet and placed them in front of me. “Change into these before you dance.” My stomach hurt terribly. Eager to get rid of Belle quickly, I barely hesitated. I took them and changed. But as I put on the shoes and stood up, sharp pain shot through the sole of my foot. A piece of broken glass had cut into my foot. I broke out in a cold sweat and let out a piercing scream.

The maids were called in at once. They brought a new tray of full champagne flutes and, under Leon’s mother’s direction, rearranged the practice path. Pieces of broken glass scattered over the polished floor, glittering under the window light like hundreds of sharp blades. Then they handed me a pair of high heels. The shoes were elegant, narrow, and far too high for training. When I put them on, I could feel at once how unstable they made me. My weight shifted wrong. My calves tensed. And the tray they set in my hands felt too light and too precarious at the same time.

He knows not to give me pink. "Can I open it?" "Yeah, go ahead." Inside are new ballet shoes. They are white and silky to the touch. The ribbons are white as well. I don't know when he got me these or how he knew my shoe size. "Thanks, Zander. I love them." "Well, if you're going to try to dance again. I want you to have proper footwear. And let's be honest...your parents might not let you. I know your ankle hurts. Even if all you can do is the basics, then stick to the basics. Don't push yourself."

They were over forty in number, and they weren't just any kind of shoes. They were high quality, expensive shoes of different kinds. The first row in the shelves was lined with just wedge shoes of multiple colors. The second row was more like a set of heels, it has the thinnest heels and tallest in height, the type strippers wear when they dance on the ring… It didn't just stop at that, there were multiple other types of shoes on the shelves, shoes I've never imagined myself wearing before. I loved what I was seeing. From thigh-high leather boots to multiple colors of glassy spike heels.

They revealed themselves in conversation, laughter, and the warmth of their camaraderie. As the night wore on, the group indulged in endless drinks, their steps faltering in the haze of intoxication. Karen Goodwill's vision grew hazy, mirroring her inebriated state. Having sipped some water earlier, she now found herself in dire need of the restroom. Karen Goodwill politely excused herself from the gathering, weaving her way towards the nearest facilities. Alex Byrne, observant of Karen Goodwill's departure, hastened to follow, fearing that her friend might lose her way amidst the sprawling resort grounds.