Sign 6 Something Beautiful
1374 Words
Heart was dressing up that evening. She pressed her mascara brush on her eyelashes and made her eyebrows bolder. She outlined her lips and slapped some powder on her face. She hummed a song as she decorated herself into an Australian fashionista with a long, lacy skirt and a black off-shoulder top. She wore a pair of black heels and make a side part. She kept her brushed aside and looked into the mirror.
She picked up her purse and walked down the stairs.
“Oh, you’re going on a date?” Her mom asked.
“Oh, how I wish I were! But no. Bye mom,” She walked out of the house and took a train to the café. She walked down the pavement, into the café and the little chime over the door rung its bells.
“Welcome,” A waitress approached her. She looked around, he wasn’t there. The waitress showed her to the table. She sat at the table, under the soft sunlight, over the colourful stone road. She looked at the ocean far away and the bridge.
“So, she has heterochromia,” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at the green algae growing on the rocks beside the ocean, “What a beautiful disease”
She heard the voices of waves and people whispering among each other. She smiled and shook her head, ‘I’m so weird,’ Suddenly, she felt the sunlight block and she looked up. She was there. Her face looked dark as she stood before the sun but her eyes were shining blue and green. Heart blushed as she looked at her.
Cyril stared at her and blushed. He recognised her. It was the same girl he met at the festival! He was there for someone else, but he wanted to talk to her.
“Hello,” He said. He sounded softer than he did back then at the academy when he returned her the shoes.
“Hey,” She smiled, “Why don’t you take a seat?”
“Oh, sure. But, I’m here for someone else,”
“Erm, what? I thought you came to meet me?”
“I don’t even know you,” He laughed nervously.
“…It’s me, Heart, the girl whose shoes you returned at the academy?”
“Wait—It’s you? You look nothing like her,”
‘Oh, it must be my makeup,’ She thought.
“Well, yeah, but, erm, she was my cousin, you know. That was not me,” She lied.
“I see,” He sat down on the seat, “So, you are the real owner of those shoes?”
“Yes, it’s me,” She smiled nervously.
“Maybe, that’s why they didn’t fit her.” He laughed. He ordered some coffee.
“She was ugly, right?” Heart asked.
“We are no one judge that,” Cyril said.
“I am though,” She curled her hair and snickered.
He took a sip of his coffee with a red face, “You don’t look that special though,”
‘She hates me already!’ Heart thought.
“But you look stunning though,” Heart said.
“Not really,” Cyril blushed harder. He cleared his throat, knowing it wasn’t manly enough of him to be like that, “So,” He got serious, “What’s the deal with those shoes?”
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“Are you some witch? Or are those shoes magical?”
“They are my mom’s old shoes,”
“Your mom is a ballet dancer too?”
“She was,”
“She doesn’t dance anymore?”
“She…is no more,” She smiled, “I live with my dad and my stepmother,”
“Oh, I’m sorry,”
They sat quietly, “So, how did she pass away?”
“She died in a car accident. Those shoes are everything she left me with.”
“Then, they must be very important to you,”
“Yes, they are,”
“So, why would you give them to a complete stranger?”
She looked at him and smiled, “I don’t know. You don’t feel like a stranger. You feel like family,”
“You trust me so easily?” Cyril asked.
She tilted her head, “I mean…I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong,”
He blushed and looked away, “I guess,”
“You are right. Maybe those shoes do have magic in them after all,”
He looked at her, “Really?”
“Mom once told me that dancing…” She looked at the setting sun and her hair glowed orange, “Is the closest thing to magic,”
Cyril walked back home with his head held down. It was dark and the street lights slowly began glowing, highlighting his red cheeks. The bridge lit up with lights and the traffic on the road increased. He stopped at the footpath and looked at the ocean. It was a full moon, he could see the waves under the moonlight. The ocean reminded him of her ocean blue eyes. He pressed his arms on the cold railings, “So, she's a ballerina,"
“Dancing is the closest thing to magic,”
He closed his eyes,
"I wanna learn ballet too," Cyril sat at the cafe table.
Edgar dropped his coffee cup, "What?"
Next day, he stood before the receptionist with Edgar beside him the next day. Edgar looked nearly dead,
“Where did you get the money to enrol?” He asked.
“Oh, I used my prize money,” Cyril smiled. They called him in and Edgar did the paperwork, pretending to be his big brother.
Cyril stood alone in an empty practice room in a sweatshirt and gym shorts with his blue ballet shoes. Suddenly, he heard heels and looked ahead. It was an old woman with grey hair and a wrinkled face. She wore a pencil skirt and a frilly shirt. She stood right before him, “I am Madam Fritzman Laurent, I will tutor you to transform from an ugly duckling to a swan,”
He looked into her brown eyes, “Now then, why do you want to learn the ballet?”
“I—think it’s fun?”
She nodded with a sarcastic smile, “That kind of mindset isn’t going to lead you anywhere,”
“Heart, you heard of the new girl who just joined?” Elijah said while wearing her shoes.
“No?” Heart looked at her.
“Someone in our group saw her. Said that she has heterochromia,”
‘What?’
“Where is she now?!”
“In madam Fritzman’s office,”
Heart ran out of the practice room.
‘No way, no way!’
“A ballet class usually begins at the ballet barre. You’ll start with exercises that include fundamental movements and gradually progress to activities that are faster, bigger or more challenging.” Madam Fritzman told Cyril.
‘Hetrochromic eyes that look like green algae on seawater,’
“From here, your class will move away from the barre for centre work. Some of the barre movements will be revisited and a variety of other steps, turns, and jumps will be introduced during this portion of ballet class.”
‘A beauty mark under her lips,’
“Class usually ends with reverence, a customary series of bows, which offer thanks and appreciation to the teacher and accompanist,”
‘Sandy black hair and…and’ She opened the door and Cyril turned back. He looked at Heart as if expecting there and then smiled gently. Heart blushed, ‘My heart just melted,’
She looked down. Cyril was wearing her shoes. So now, two of her favourite things were together.
“Ms Willington, nice timing. I hand her over to you, teach her the basic stretches so that she doesn’t twist anything during her practice,”
Heart was busy staring at Cyril. He bit his lips and smiled at her.
“Girls,” Madam Fritzman rolled her eyes and left her office.
“Hey,” Heart smiled. Her voice was soft and breathy.
“Hello,” Cyril said.
Heart laughed. Cyril looked at her, “Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s like a dream…To see you in ballet shoes,”
“Yeah, I’m more of a surfer,” He said and then quickly covered his mouth, “I mean—”
“Cyra, you’re a surfer girl?!”
“…Yeah,”
“Oh my God! I love surfer girls! That’s why you got such a good tan?”
“I usually forget my sunscreen so yeah, haha,”
Heart stopped at the door and looked at Cyril,
“You want to tell me something?”
“You are very pretty,”
“Oh, I know right?” Cyril laughed and looked away.
She taught him a few stretches,
"You are flexible," Cyril said.
“I’ll make sure you can do the splits in a week, and then we can move on to deeper stretches,”
“Alright,”
“You want to eat something?” Heart opened a box.
“Oh, you made it?”
“Yes, I’m still not as good as my stepmother but I always try,”
He tasted a bit of it.
‘The first time I ate my first love’s cooking
And the first thing I could think was that
I didn’t want her to cook for anyone else ever again.’
-To be continued
- Writer
