10
Quincey
I loved Nova from the first photograph I saw of her.
It’d been that quick.
I never thought about children growing up. Never considered if I wanted them or if I didn’t. Since I was little, my life had been all about dancing. I needed to move.
I loved the spontaneous, free movement.
Of course, that was not what ballet was.
Structure. Foundation. The body was regimented, pounded, trained, forced into a certain look, a certain motion. All to convey the opposite of what we were. We were fierce, but we needed to look slender. We were motivated, yet we were supposed to blend. Always blend until the moment we got to stand out. To bring gasps from those watching us. To make our bodies move in a way that books could make people feel, how a song could make someone cry. We did that b
