“I made it in!!” Emi ran throughout the apartment, shouting her good news. “Mum, dad! I made it. I got accepted into Juilliard!” She nearly jumped into each of her parents’ arms as she found them in the kitchen. She did a celebratory dance around the kitchen island and was soon joined by Eliana.
Emi twirled her sister around, making her giggle, and then after a while, Eliana said, “Why are we dancing?” Laughing, Emi replied. “I got into that school that I’d applied for. The big, famous one in New York.” “Oh yay!! Wait… boo…” Eliana’s smile quickly turned into a frown. Emi’s heart broke a little when she realised the same thing that Elia had. “You’re leaving us… again.” She frowned and plopped down into the chair near the kitchen table. Emi glanced towards her parents, all celebration gone. As if getting her cue, Amanda approached Elia and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey… she’ll visit often. Right?” She looked at Emi, and Emi knew she had no choice but to say yes. Emi got down onto her knees beside Elia’s chair and playfully nudged her younger sister’s chin. “Maybe YOU can even visit. I know how much you love New York. You can come see me do big performances… visit aunt Ceci and Uncle Rico… We’ll talk on the phone all the time and I’ll send you lots of pictures and stuff. It’s going to be fun. You’ll see.” Elia listened for a while and then nodded reluctantly. “Okay,” she said. She glanced at her parents now. “So can we celebrate with cake and stuff?” Emi chuckled. “I second that question. We definitely need cake.” And Emi needed to call her Aunt Ceci and tell her the big news.
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It was refreshing being back in New York. Emi loved Europe, but New York had been ‘home’ for so many years. It was strange going to her family house all by herself though. It seemed like as soon as her parents had gotten this place, they gave it up to for London. A lot was happening in London at the time. Now, however, Emi felt the urge to stay away from London. After Aubrey's accident, her Uncle and Aunt's death… it seemed London was quite unlucky.
Emi left her suitcases at the front door and headed upstairs to her bedroom. It was still rather childish, but even now, she loved her pink paradise. She dropped her body onto the bed, finally relaxing for the first time in days. She didn’t have much time to relax though. She’d come just in time for her audition, which would take place in just 4 hours. Then on Christmas Eve night, she was heading to Unlucky London to surprise her family. She hadn’t told them her decision yet. She didn’t want them to talk her out of it or sway her ideas in any way. Her stomach was a knot of nerves for her audition, so eating was difficult, but somehow she forced herself to do it. Somehow, she mustered up enough energy to get dressed, stretch and head out for her dream audition. One of many dreams, that is. In the cab, she admired the concrete jungle that was New York City. Could she live here, on her own, as an adult? She didn’t know. If she made it to Juilliard, she’d have no choice, but it not, she still considered moving there. She was lost in her thoughts when the cab driver yanked her out of her daydreaming mode. “Miss? We’re here.” “Oh!” Emi jumped, startled, and began fumbling in her purse for cash. She handed the money to the driver and hopped out. For a moment, she just stared at the renowned performing arts school. She couldn’t believe she was actually here. Taking a deep breath, she gave herself a quick pep talk. “Okay, Emilia. You can do this. I know you can.” “But whyyyy are you leaving?” Anne-Laure whined as they stretched in the empty ballet room. It was between classes so no other students were there at the moment. “You’re one of the best dancers here,” Anne-Laure continued. “It’s a good programme. You could get into the Opéra national de Paris, or--”
“--or I could get into the New York City Ballet,” Emi interrupted. She shrugged. Looking at Anne-Laure’s confused expression, she said, “I applied to Juilliard. Some of the best dancers in the world were trained there. Maybe I could get into the New York City Ballet, the American Ballet theater… Bolshoi Ballet.” “Wait a minute… New York? Russia? I thought you were going to London? What happened to the Royal Ballet?” Anne-Laure began tying the ribbons of her pointe shoes around her ankle. “I don’t think I necessarily want to go to Russia; I was just aiming high,” Emi said with a shrug. “I want to be either in London or New York where I can be close to family. And besides, my parents have a house in New York too, so that would save me on housing.” For a while, ,there was nothing but silence in the room, and then after a while, Anne-Laure said, “Will you keep in touch with me?” Emi glanced over and smiled at her friend. The girl was incredibly annoying, but she made such an effort to be a great friend. Emi couldn’t bear to be mean to her. “Of course I will,” said Emi. “You have my number. And I love Paris. I promise I’ll visit.” |
Emilia at a glanceNames: Emilia Paris van Loon Archives
April 2017
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