Previous teaser:

I raced down the crowded hallway, dodging dancers as they trotted down with their pointe shoes still on, legwarmers wrapped around their ankles. Amateurs. My black mangy haired crudely styled after my hero flailed behind me as I slid to a stop at the door way of the last dance room. Pushing my long bangs aside I poked my head out of the side of the door, quietly, discreetly I crept into the room, just one glimpse, one glimpse would be enough. I knew I didn’t belong here but she was so beautiful, so elegant and graceful. Her smile could melt your heart, her demeanor could sweep you away, and her dance could take your breath away, I swear by it. Her classical ballet skin tight outfit was hidden by a loose t-shirt with a plastered face of Merlin Monroe etched in punk pop-art style on it; her hair was lazily tied in a long pony tail that traced the line of her spine as she finished her last stretches before her session began. She traced the circled on the floor with her toe as she gained speed with her twirls, I could almost hear music in the background every time she danced, as if she could make anywhere a dance studio, a stage, a dream. I watched, unblinking, as her shirt swayed and wrapped around her defining her non-existent stomach, her perfect techniques as she spun across the glossy wooden floor, her hair wrapped around her collar each time she spotted her head, her smile growing brighter with each spin. Then she jumped. I couldn’t breathe as I watched her effortlessly fly across the room, as if time ceased to move, landing on her toes as if it was nothing. Then she caught sight of me, a dirty street kid and I shrunk away scrambling out the door way but not before I turned to stare at her reflection in mirror one last time and the last thing I saw was her smile, smiled just for me, as curtsied at my reflection in the mirror with a look in her eyes like nothing in the world could ever stop her and her art, her untamed spirit. I never saw her again. Her name was Kurai, and that was her last dance. 

If you havent surmised this yet, this tragedy is about Kurai, not the creeper hobo girl, shes a different story. What a twisted child she is too, ah well :)

I  allowed a warm breath escape my pink lips into the chilling air forming a small cloud of smoke that faded around my sharp face. Smiling I wrapped my thin arms around my stomach as I treaded through the deep snow my long eyelashes squeezed shut as I blinked against the wind. It wasn’t even clean snow, but mucky brown…guck stuff. Aish, New York, how you shame snow; the wind however, I’ll give you that one. After failing several times in keeping my faux fur hood on my head I submitted and became content with wrapping my silky black hair complicatedly around my head in a way that resembled a turban and ear muffs combined. I’m so clever~, delighted that I had finally found a use for my hair I skipped down the streets of down-town New York gingerly tracing the linings of low lying leaves of over-hanging trees with my extended finger tips.  I floated past a cursing English taxi man, a muttering hobo, and an annoying little girl who felt that it was absolutely essential to mock my ingenious hairdo before something caught my eye hindering me from reaching the dance studio on time. Again. This will be a hard one to explain to the instructor. =m=. I suppose it could go something like “There was a tennis match on the way to the studio and I couldn’t help but stop and stare at their absurd resistant to cold weather. I mean look at those skirts! You might as well just play in Victoria Secret lace bottoms!” To which he would reply, “But you dance! Don’t you understand child, you dance!” with that crazy accenting trick he does with his hands, making any comment relevant to an argument. In truth I have a weird for other people’s happiness, I guess you will always want what you don’t have, and to watch the couple play tennis almost my heart beat. Almost, not that it mattered, I wasn’t about to explain my es to my instructor. But the way they had both comically whiffed a ball that went shooting between them, and how they stood in shock as they found themselves a hairs width apart from each other, and the way he smiled and she smiled and you could practically feel the love radiating from their eyes forced me to stop. In movies this is where magical music would appear from the sky and break out into the most recent love song, instead I anticlimactically grinned, a slight trace of desire in my face. Tearing my eyes away, I continued on to the studio where my animated Italian dance instructor waited. Crazy man.

~`~

“Aish, child, how many times have I told you?! You are a dancer! You dance my dear, dance! Not prance around town with a pretty face, learn to read a clock child!”

I smiled, can’t help but to love him. “Of course, of course. I dance~” I grinned imitating his fancy accenting trick, “just give me a sec, I need to de-winterize.”

“Children these days, and their disrespect towards time…”

“I can hear you~” I sang out as I headed towards the lockers.

“I know you can~” he sang after me as I disappeared behind the push door.

I shuffled into the dark musky locker room past either dressing or undressing or redressing ballerinas in my muck covered boots leaving a trail of snow behind me, and to my delight some unfortunate soul stepped on a bit of it as I heard someone yelp in surprise. I’m twisted I know, tell me something I don’t know OU<. I shrugged off my freakishly heavy, heavy coat, forcibly tossing it into a cramped rusting locker along with my drenched skinny jeans and Ugg boots. I stretched out my back, finally free of excessive clothing. I loosened my leg warmers into a fashionable scrunch around my toned calves as I laced my pointes around my feet. Alright, on with the show. I smiled my fake smile, my mask as I shut the door to my locker with a bang, the poor metal contraption threatened to shake loose as my belongings rattled inside. I flexed my toes as I glided past the other dancers, I could feel their eyes following my every move waiting for a mistake, as I opened the door to a flood of light that enveloped my face. This was my life; this was my never-ending performance that I played behind a mask. A mask of smiles and tears, happiness and fears, one that never shook or was sent amuck, always a mask, a mask made of tears. My porcelain mask. My name is Kurai, welcome to my never ending performance.

Since this was reletaively short i have decided this is teaser chapter. Oh look at me, two teasers in a row. Oh what is to come~