Page 5

Serenity

CHAPTER FIVE

NEW ORLEANS

I undo the bun that JeAnne insisted on combing my hair into when I left the house to come to my ballet practice and create another one, pulling it tighter.

She still treats me like a child sometimes. I have few good memories from my childhood, but the ones I have are with her around me, always vigilant and careful.

Every time I came back to the US during vacation from German school, she would be waiting for me with my favorite foods. Boarding school was scary for me. I was taken away from home when I was very young and forced to live with strangers. Suddenly, I lost the home I knew, my entire family, and was sent away from my beloved nanny.

I shake my head sadly, thinking about how unhappy I feel that my memory belongs to moments with JeAnne and not my parents. I don't allow myself to be melancholy for too long, though. At the start of practice, I need to be fully focused.

I look in the bathroom mirror at the dance school and notice that my hair is now exactly how I like it—so straight that it makes my eyes stand out at the corners, even though they’re usually big compared to the rest of my face.

Perfection is my goal in life, in any area. I am demanding of myself, and I like order. I don't feel happy with surprises or uncertainty, and that's why these last few weeks I've felt like the ground has disappeared from beneath my feet.

I’ve dreamed about this moment my whole life! While growing up in boarding school, I imagined when I would finally turn eighteen and be able to take care of myself, investing in my career as a dancer.

The first disappointment came with my guardian’s visit as soon as I returned to the United States. That was when I learned that my parents had left very clear stipulations in their will. There would only be two ways in which I could access my inheritance: at age twenty-one, provided I was married, or at age twenty-five if I remained single. Practically, this prevents me from growing up and being independent.

I am an adult, however, an adult who is believed to need supervision.

I was devastated. Thank God I have JeAnne by my side, since Mr. Van Lith, despite never letting me lack for anything, has never been more than a stranger to me, an employee of my parents who only kept in touch with me out of duty.

I'm not the malleable type, not one who adapts easily. I am rigid like a marble surface and tense like a stretched guitar string.

Discipline is my true north.

I had a hard time getting used to the news, but I tried to adapt to the reality that I couldn't be free. With my nanny and only friend by my side, I took a deep breath and was sure I could do this.

It was then that Mr. Van Lith dropped the bomb: the certainty, no longer the possibility, that I will have a new guardian. I’d still had hope that he would go back on his decision to transfer my guardianship to someone else.

Only yesterday, when I went to his office for the second time in a few days, responding to a call, did I discover the reason.

Apparently, my father owned a one percent share in a bank in which the man who will be my new guardian, Mr. Ares Kostanidis, is interested. Mr. Van Lith didn't say it outright, but from my point of view, he is blackmailing Mr. Kostanidis, saying that he will only sell this one percent if the man, whom I discovered is a Greek businessman, takes over my guardianship.

I was so shaken by the news about the changes that would soon happen in my life that I ended up forgetting to ask for permission to set up a private dance studio at home.

Now, if the Greek businessman really becomes my guardian, I will have to talk to him about it.

Dealing with a stranger, whose personality I have no idea of, and more than that, asking him for a favor, leaves me terrified.

And to make matters worse, Mr. Van Lith said that, for now, the news about my change of guardianship is confidential. Not even JeAnne can know. It has to do with the sale of the shares. It was a demand from Mr. Ares.

I don't like lying to JeAnne. Of course, I don't tell her every thought I have. All people keep secrets, even those who live a dull existence like mine. However, in this case, it is different. She knows and respects Mr. Van Lith. As for Mr. Kostanidis, we have no idea who he is. I have no doubt that when she finds out about the change, she will be worried.

I enter the dance studio, which is still empty at this hour, and look at myself reflected in all the mirrors simultaneously. It's the only thing I don't like about this school. I feel overwhelmed by so many reflections of myself.

I spent thirteen years in boarding school, and when I see my image, I feel as if I have suddenly grown up. One day I was a little girl, the next, an adult.

In high school in Germany, every hour was like the next. I couldn't sense the passage of time. My entertainment consisted of dancing and reading.

And the dreams, a voice reminds me.

I had a lot of dreams about life here in New Orleans before I moved to boarding school. They were strange, confusing dreams, full of people with unclear faces.

I don't remember any special moments with my parents. I don't remember anything, to be honest. I am a hollow, a shell filled with the present. That's why I compulsively dedicate myself to dancing. Dancing brings me comfort and purpose. It's lucky that I'm good at the profession I chose.

No, it isn’t luck, I correct myself. It’s much more.

My teacher is one of the most talented dancers of all time: Debra Villatoro. Although her career was interrupted early, she is the owner of one of the most prestigious dance schools in the country. Every year, Madam Villatoro chooses a student to whom she dedicates herself exclusively, seven days a week, after regular classes. I had only been here for fifteen days when I was asked to audition.

I knew right away what that meant: she was considering me as a candidate for her undivided attention.

I'm insecure about a lot of things in life, but not about my dancing.

I was euphoric and could barely sleep the night before the final test.

I went to the theater where she had scheduled the next audition and found her with four other men, all teachers, too.

Before I started, JeAnne, who had gone with me to provide support, hugged me and said that regardless of the result, whether or not I was chosen to be trained by Madam Villatoro, it wouldn't make me a worse or better dancer. I thanked her but said I didn't want to hear those words.

For me, winning and being the best is non-negotiable.

I have no other goal in life other than ballet. I dedicate myself one hundred percent to it and accept nothing less than being excellent at what I do.

It was the second time I performed for them. The first, two days before, took place at the dance school, where they asked me to perform the classic movements: barre, center, diagonal, and on pointe.

The second performance, at the theater, was a solo, a short excerpt from the classic “The Nutcracker”. I only had to look at Madam Villatoro's face at the end to know that I had succeeded.

I smile, remembering when I had confirmation that I was her chosen one .

I am taking steps towards realizing my dreams.

I will no longer simply exist. I'm going to live. Travel and be acclaimed by the public. Transform myself into who I was made to be.

"Daydreaming, my sweet Serenity?" Madam Villatoro asks on one of the rare occasions when she seems relaxed.

I was so distracted that I didn't realize she had entered the room.

" Aiming awake," I joke. "Dreams can come true or not, but for me, there is only one option."

One month later

"It's done, Miss Blanchet."

"What?" I ask Mr. Van Lith on the phone, even though I already know the answer.

"I am no longer your guardian. Sometime next week, Ares Kostanidis will come to visit."

"So soon? I thought it would take longer for the judge to authorize the transfer of guardianship."

He sighs on the other end of the line. "We’ve been negotiating for months. Due to the fact that you are of legal age and both Mr. Kostanidis and I have an unblemished reputation, the transfer was a mere formality."

Which means he lied to me. The transfer of guardianship has always been a certainty.

"You said he's coming to New Orleans. What for?"

"You need to get to know each other, but it's important that you remember what I said: no one can know about the change in your guardianship. He demanded secrecy."

"Okay about the secrecy," I say, annoyed. When he uses the word “guardianship,” I feel like a baby. "Although, I can't understand why there's so much secrecy."

It sounds like he’s part of a secret society. Who on earth is this man?

I make a mental note to research him online later. I haven't yet, perhaps because, deep down, I hoped he would give up on becoming my guardian.

I feel my face heat up as I remember my appointment with a lawyer last week. I hid it from everyone. Not even JeAnne or Mr. Van Lith knew. I wanted to find out if there was any way to change my parents' will, if a judge could intervene. I left frustrated when I received a negative response.

"Is there a specific date he will come?"

"I don't know. As I told you before, sometime next week."

"I have my first solo performance in front of a paying audience next week. I mean, it’s for charity, but still, very different from what I’ve done until now."

"Congratulations," he says, making it clear from his tone that he’s not really interested. "It is likely that Mr. Kostanidis will not show up on that day."

"Does he even have my phone number?"

"Yes, he does."

"But I won't have his?"

"Not for the time being. I believe he will provide it to you when you meet."

I notice that he looks out of breath, tired, and I feel remorseful. Mr. Van Lith is very old and should no longer bear the duty for which he was chosen.

After a quick and impersonal goodbye, which doesn’t sound at all like an interchange between people who’ve had a relationship for more than ten years, albeit as guardian and ward, he hangs up and leaves my life.

It's stupid to be sad. He never showed me anything other than concern about doing a good job as a guardian, but even so, I feel abandoned.

One way or another, everyone I live with ends up leaving me.

The other day in my kitchen, I accidentally found some leaflets on properties for sale in Florida. I think JeAnne is thinking about retiring.

Maybe I was born to be alo