“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.”
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Emilia at a glanceNames: Emilia Paris van Loon Archives
April 2017
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