Page 57 of Healing Eleanor

Nik’s attention returns to the room. “You all know what I expect. Focus. Precision. Discipline. But also humility. This is not the place for ego, so leave it at the door. We train hard, we show up, and we treat one another with respect. Understood?”

A few nods ripple around the room.

Nik steps back from the podium and clasps his hands behind his back. “As always, before we begin, I’d like to pray.”

I blink. Did he say pray?

Nik closes his eyes, and the others around me follow. “Lord, thank You for another day of allowing us to move the bodies You’ve given us. Keep us safe, keep us focused, and help us grow—not just as dancers, but as people. Let today be fruitful. Amen.”

“Amen,” several voices echo.

I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do with my hands, or my face for that matter. No one else seems surprised by it. Some dancers have their heads bowed, some just stand quietly like it’s routine.

Is this normal? I’ve never seen anyone pray before class. Or pray at all, really. My mom has always said that religion is just a scam to get people to give their money away. I don’t know what to think about it, but something about it isn’t off-putting. If anything, it feels… calm.

Nik lifts his gaze and claps again. “Let’s begin. Center floor. First combination.”

Nothing at Forma could’ve prepared me for today. Not Adrian’s grueling tower classes, not a routine pilates session, not even the worst days back home. Because today kicked my butt.

The first half of class starts off strong. After warm-ups, we move through pliés, tendus, dégagés, rond de jambes, développés—you name it. I’m holding my own. Completely focused.

But after the break, everything falls apart.

My footwork during combinations isn’t quick enough. Every grand allegro feels like I’m jumping through molasses. And don’t even get me started on my pirouettes. Apparently, they’re ‘too structured,’ whatever that means. I’ve never heard that criticism before.

From that point on, I couldn’t catch a break with Nik. One second I’m ‘too stiff,’ the next, ‘too perfect’ as if that’s some kind of flaw. His corrections aren’t cruel, but they’re relentless. Nothing I do is good enough. I may as well be a ratée.

By the end of class, my legs are jelly, my confidence bruised, and my brain is swimming through muddy water. I don’t know what he wants from me, and even worse, I’m not sure that I can live up to it.

“Great work today, everyone,” Nik says, addressing the class. “We’ll start again tomorrow. Eight as usual.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I’m not sure my already fragile ego can take many more hits today.

An arm wraps around my shoulders. “You did great today!” Lily says, bubbling with enthusiasm. How she still has that much energy, I’ll never know.

I glance up at her. “No, I didn’t. But… thanks for saying that anyway.” I make my way toward the dressing room, already thinking about collapsing in bed. Though realistically, I should tackle the mountain of boxes still crowding my floor.

Lily plops down on the bench beside me, peeling off her pointe shoes with a groan. “What? Don’t say that.” She nudges me. “First days are always rough, take it from me.”

I stifle a laugh. “You’ve got me there.” After a pause, I add, “It just felt like everything I did was wrong. I didn’t even get criticism like this at the Metropolitan.”

She lowers her head, understanding. “When it comes to dance, Nik is very precise about what he wants. He means well—he’s just…”

“Persistent?” I offer.

“Exactly,” she says, grinning. “It can come off as intense, but he genuinely cares about how we perform.”

I give a thoughtful nod. “Guess I better practice.”

Lily giggles. “What? No! You need rest. There’s still time before casting for the winter showcase.”

I slip on my leg warmers and sneakers, then wrap my cardigan around me like a shield. “I wish I had time to rest. I’ve got a mountain of boxes at home practically screaming my name.”

As she zips up her bag, she turns to me. “Do you want help unpacking? I’m serious. I’d love to help. I’m always free for a friend in need.”

That draws a real chuckle from me. “Are you always this animated?”

“Absolutely,” she beams. “So? What do you say? I could come by after practice tomorrow?”