Studio Of Dreams, Part 2 free porn video

Studio of Dreams Part II by josie Synopsis: Wilhelmina Mann, aka Willie, has fallen victim to her exaggerated bravado and calamitous arrogance. It is a near fatal flaw in her character that leads to her complete undoing. Now, her life in ruin, Wilhelmina begins looking for a way to resurrect her life from the smoldering ashes of the old. In so doing she opens up to the possibility that fate may yet have a hand to play in her redemption. --------- Chapter V Rebirth Wilhelmina thought the old ballet mistress looked rather tired and worn by all the years of teaching. She walked with a cane and wore a sweeping, floor-length, Empress- style gown of black velvet. Her silver-gray hair was piled high in a bun, and she wore layers of foundation shades to light and rouge far too bright to cover the signs of her age. There was also a defensive air about her as she approached, Whilhelmina thought her a bit ill-tempered in the way she asked what she was doing there. "I've come to see Madam Leonora about the job opening." Wilhelmina said. Not wishing to bother with whomever was beneath the pompadour and black leathers, the old ballet mistress dismissed her with a sweeping gesture of her hand. "You're speaking to her! And that Help Wanted sign is for a qualified Ballet Instructor, not a janitor!" Wilhelmina's first instinct was to lash out at her, not unlike what she did to Lacy Richardson just hours before. She felt her fists clench and her jaw tighten, like a cat prepared to pounce - but she didn't. Instead she stifled the surge of anger that had again welled up from within and regained control of herself. Once free from the tyranny of her rage it suddenly became clear how she had come to lash out at poor, defenseless Lacy. Still she didn't understand the anger, nor why it was becoming increasingly difficult to control. She felt powerless, not knowing what was happening to her, and worse, fearful she might never figure it out. All she had to stave off a foreboding sense of helplessness was her slim hope that fate had brought her to this moment for a reason. She had nothing more to go on, so she decided to throw herself into the foreordained in hopes of finding her answers. Perhaps in this tattered old studio she'd find some way to expel the demonic rage, to find the redemption she sought. Besides, there remained Simon; dressed in leotard and pink ribboned blocks, doing his exercises at the barre. What was she to think of that boy ballerina who appeared at her moment of need, he alone responsible for leading her here? What part was he to play in all this, and why was it that while the lady and she spoke Wilhelmina could not take her eyes from him? So Wilhelmina smiled warmly at the old ballet mistress instead of lashing out. With all the civility she could muster, she politely told Madam Leonora about herself, her mother and all that both had accomplished in ballet. The lady knew the last name, of course. She had seen Katherine Mann dance at the Metropolitan, and had even read a newspaper article or two about Wilhelmina. There was also a nationally televised broadcast of The Nutcracker she remembered seeing some years back that featured a much heralded, thirteen year old Wilhelmina as the lead. Yes, she was well aware of Wilhelmina's illustrious past and was pleased to be in her company, dressed as a boy or not! "Why, I'm so dreadfully sorry! I did not recognize you in your costume, dear." "We've met?" she asked. "No dear, but I had the pleasure of watching a performance of yours some years back. You've grown some, certainly, but I've a mind for such things. I am to assume you're currently dressed in preparation for some . . . performance?" "Ahhhh, yes! Yes I am," Wilhelmina hesitantly responded. "It's small repertory group's take on West Side Story - a playhouse off Broadway. I'll be dancing the role of Tony," she added, uncomfortable about the lie she had just told. Wilhelmina looked away to avoid the lady's gaze, praying she wouldn't have to delve deeper into her lies and deceit. "I see. You live in the area then?" "Yes, ma'am! I live at the new Regency Towers on 89th and 3rd Ave - my mother and I, that is. I was hoping to find a small studio, where I can be of help. Perhaps as a service, I can give back to the kids in the community. Have you something available along those lines?" Wilhelmina didn't want to lie. She did have her pride and thought it the lowest order of things to have to resort to lying. Then too, she believed she had no choice in the matter. Surely if she told the truth about Lacy Richardson, the lady would have branded her a danger to her students and tossed her out without entertaining a second thought. If she wanted to stay, she knew she would have to fabricate a story and preserve it at all costs - even with her lies. Of course, Leonora was skeptical of what Wilhelmina had said. She knew Wilhelmina's claim to fame was genuine enough but, regarding her present circumstance, there were too many clues in her nervous posture and strain in her voice to not believe the story made up on the spot. Besides, what was she to think of the pompadour, callow mustache and the red eyes still damp from tears? For Leonora, the conclusion was inescapable. Wilhelmina was a girl scarcely in control of herself. Exactly what she was trying to keep hidden she didn't know. The only thing certain was the truth about her celebrated past and the certainty of a very snarled present. It was an interesting, if not intriguing, brew that piqued her interest to play along - so she did. She smiled warmly in an offer of full acceptance of all she heard. "Heavens, yes! In truth, after 40 years in the business I would have no choice but to end classes altogether at the end of the month if I don't find somebody. You see I've a very serious problem with my hip that requires an operation and may require months of recuperation." "I'm sorry to hear that. Your illness would force you into retirement then?" "From the dance studio, yes! But I'll not be retiring from my script editing business that pays the bills. Honestly, demands for my 'Danceline Agency' are such that I could never completely retire from the industry. Though it saddens me to think about closing down this old place. It would be a great loss to the community and a disappointment to the girls. As you can see, I am very much in need of someone's help." "I've heard of 'DanceLine', Madam. Your agency is highly regarded." "Indeed! Given enough time, everyone garners some respect, warranted or not! Even so, I've only student fees to cover the cost of keeping the studio doors open. Naturally, the studio couldn't afford the cost of your talent. . . I've a small list of clientele, you understand!" "Madam, I'd be honored to do it just as a service if you'd allow me!" Leonora didn't believe for a moment the claim of her "Good Samaritan" purposes, and the fact that she needed to lie as cover for something unseemly troubled her. The unanswered questions weighed as heavily upon her as the intrigue of Wilhelmina's untold story. Leonora didn't know what was going on, but she knew she couldn't allow her questions to go unanswered no matter how troubling they might turn out to be. Besides, she simply felt too amused by the possibilities to not follow along. "Oh my, yes! How could I refuse? It's not everyday so prominent a dancer as yourself offers to donate her time. Certainly, I would be delighted. . . and please dear, call me Leonora!" "Thank you, Leonora. I'm grateful for your trust in me." Wilhelmina's delight was obvious. Just as apparent to Leonora was the fact that she couldn't stop staring off in the distance at Simon. The thought that this girl, dressed as a boy, wanted to help a boy dressed as a girl gave her reason to pause. After some moments reflection on the peculiar complexities of it all, Leonora returned Wilhelmina's smile. Then taking hold of hers arm, she walked with her toward her little corps de ballet. "Then I must welcome you to my Studio of Dreams, Wilhelmina Mann!. Come! I think you might find this a pleasant new beginning for you, my dear!" --- "Filles! . . . et jeune monsieur! Attention! Attention! This is Miss Wilhelmina Mann. For those who do not know the name, I will tell you she is one of the young stars in the world of dance. I am very proud to announce that classes will continue, and she will be providing your instruction during the short time I am away." Madam Leonora had scarcely gotten the words out of her mouth when Simon first looked up to see who was standing before him. Immediately his heart raced and he became consumed by panic. He became so distraught that by the time Leonora had finished the introduction he had erupted into tears, dashed from the studio and ran out onto the street. Behind him, Wilhelmina was off in pursuit. Had it all not been so dreadfully serious you might have thought the scene laughable. Many stopped to watch the peculiar event unfolding before them, though no one seemed sure how to react to the chase, the struggle, and the shouting match that followed. Nor did anyone know just how to react to the sight of the two strange players in the little drama. One would certainly have to wonder who was who. To wonder whether it was really a boy they saw in ballet leotards, pink-ribboned blocks and clean shaven leg - and if it was really a girl they saw with a grease-slick pompadour, black leather pants and biker boots. One had to wonder what where the danger lay. "Hold on! Hold on!" Wilhelmina yelled as she finally grabbed hold of his arm. "You can't go running off dressed like this. I know you're angry but I'm not going to hurt you!" Simon was filled with contempt as he struggled to break free from her grasp. All he could think about was getting as far away from "Wicked Willie" as possible. The memories of her cruelty toward him were still too fresh in his mind to listen to her. "Look, I'm sorry for picking on you at Tae Kwon Do! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It was mean and cruel of me!" It was at this point that a stock boy from a nearby store tried to intervene, but Wilhelmina's snarling "Back off, Jack!" kept the boy from stepping in. It also made Simon shamefully aware of his condition, and the focus of too much unwanted attention. His sudden embarrassment helped to calm him just long enough to hear Wilhelmina's apologies. "Why do you want to be nice to me now?" he asked apprehensively after summoning enough courage. "Because . . . just because! That's why!" Hearing the change in tenor of the dispute, the crowd slowly dissipated, leaving Wilhelmina in charge of her catch. With an air of command, she released her grasp of his arm and looked down into his eyes, searching for a way to convey her sincerity. "You're really a famous dancer?" Simon braved, between sniffles. "Yes!" He lowered his eyes and dried his tears in offer of his resignation. Wilhelmina, the cunning predator, knew the signs of submission well and thought to bring matters to a close as quickly as possible. "I'll tell you all about me when I walk you home after class. Now, come along!" she said to her subdued student. "Class has been disrupted for far too long already!" Taking hold of his hand, Willie led and Simon followed as they returned to the studio. --- Good to her word, she did accompany Simon and his friend Rosaline home as she had promised. She carried Simon's bag and held his hand firmly in hers. Then because she had asked, Simon began explaining all the reasons he wore his "dress and bandanna disguise". He explained to her as best he could about his fear of being found out, and what that would mean for his future in ballet. "Actually, the dress and bandanna disguise was Rosaline's idea," Simon explained. "She was the one who introduced me to madam Leonora and figured out how I could go to the class without anyone knowing!" He went on to explain how he'd walk from his house to Rosaline's, change into his disguise, then the two of them would go to class together. "You see, Rosaline's mother doesn't get off work until six and doesn't know a thing about it. And Madam Leonora promised to never say a word, so . . ." "That's very clever of you, Rosaline," Wilhelmina commented. "But how did you come up with the dress as a disguise?" "Well, Simon didn't want to. He didn't like the idea, not one little bit," Rosaline thoughtfully reflected. "I still don't!" Simon added. "You don't?" queried Wilhelmina. "No! I'm not a sissy. I just want to dance ballet." "That's true! He's not a sissy. He's very brave," Rosaline chipped in. "He's just like my dad. My dad loves ballet too, and he's not a sissy. My dad is a firefighter, and is always telling me how he wishes he were young again to follow his heart and learn to dance. He says that when I dance I should remember that I have all his fondest hopes and aspirations. He tells me I am dancing for us both." "You have a very loving father, Rosaline" Wilhelmina said. "He is, and Simon is just like my dad. So I told my dad about this boy I know who loved ballet but was frightened of what would happen if anyone discovered his secret. I asked him what my friend should do and he told me 'everyone should follow their heart'. He also said, 'we shouldn't let what others think separate us from our dreams'." I told Simon what my dad told me and he decided that he owed it to himself to try. He is very brave. Now, would a sissy do that?" "I suppose not." Wilhelmina offered. "But why dress like a girl?" "We tried my dad's overcoat and dark glasses first, but the first day Mrs. Weatherspoon next door recognized him right off. She knows Simon's mom and said that she didn't know what was going on but would speak with Mrs. Gray if she saw anything else like that again. I had to think of something less obvious. He didn't want to, but it worked. He uses my old leotards to wear under an old dress, and a bandanna to disguise his head. Dressed as a girl no one bothers looking twice, not even Mrs. Weatherspoon, and after Madam Leonora promised to help keep his secret it's worked ever since." "I still don't like it!" Injected Simon. "You have to admit though, you do make a very pretty girl," Rosaline giggled. "Jiminy-cricket! Will you stop it, Rosaline!" "It's true! Even Madam Leonora compliments him on how natural he looks in a dress. She also says that his arabesque and sissonnes come more naturally to Simon than most girls." "You certainly must love ballet to go through all this, Simon" "Oh, I do! I've always loved ballet. It's like Madam says, it's the form and the movement that expresses life's beauty like nothing else can. And it's true. I feel a part of that beauty when I dance." "But this studio is for young women. You must get teased a lot." "Sure he does," Rosaline interjected. "We all tease him, but we don't call him names or poke fun of him. Like Madam says, it's okay to tease about the things that make us different if it's meant to show affection, and share camaraderie. Sometimes it's good to have friends who can make us laugh at ourselves like that, and can laugh right along with us." "That means you're all very close friends?" "Ah-hu! We're a team, and teams stick together like glue." "Odd! Usually in groups like this everyone is always snipping at one another." "Madam calls us odd too. She says we're her little oddballs, and when we dance together in our troupe we celebrate what makes us different from the kids in the street. It's a creative journey we all take part in. She also says it's okay to be different because that's where genius lingers waiting to be discovered. So it doesn't matter if we tease him when Madam powders his cheeks or puts a pretty ribbon in his hair. The only thing that matters is he's one of us - just another oddball with the same genius as me." "I see. Simon is very lucky to have such understanding friends." "What about your mother, Simon? What does she think of this?" Wilhelmina prodded. For all his candor, Wilhelmina could tell from his sudden pause that the matter of his mother was a problem for him. She had thought not to press the matter when he just as suddenly told her the importance of keeping his secret from her. He went on to explain how he had actually led her to believe he was attending Tae Kwon Do three days a week, not just one. He said that his mother didn't know about Madam Leonora's nor what he was doing to attend her classes. Simon added that his mother had certain beliefs about how a boy is supposed to behave. "She says I should always act proper, and not disgrace myself, or her!" "Oh?" Wilhelmina queried. "That means you would be a disgrace if she knew. . . I mean . . . thought, you were a sissy?" "Yes! That's why I could never tell her about ballet!" Wilhelmina felt surprised by what she had heard. In truth, she had already formulated an opinion regarding Simon's circumstance, and the image of a brave boy doing what he must just to dance didn't fit her preconceived notion. It was clearly in his sensitive nature to embrace the world through a feminine mind set, and he did little to hide his effeminacy. However, there was also another part of Simon which he expressed in his fear of being found out, the shame of being called a sissy and knowing what that would mean to his mother. That said, it didn't matter to her whether he was a sissy- boy or not. His honesty and his motives seemed so unpretentious and clear. She heard in his voice a boy who loved ballet, and saw in his deeds a boy who wanted to dance. Wilhelmina couldn't help but admire what she saw in him. Like herself, he was trying to forge his own way with only a vague sense as to which way he should go. Was this reason enough for fate to have drawn her into this studio - to help Simon? There was an irony in the notion that in helping Simon find his way she'd be helping herself just as well. She wasn't sure how all that was supposed to come out, but she knew it was somehow meant for her to help. That much she could tell just by watching him fidget with a wayward lank of hair, curling it around a forefinger just under his chin. Looking so utterly vulnerable in his dress and bandanna disguise, she put her arms around his shoulders to shelter him, then promised that in the future things would be different. "Will I still have to wear a dress?" "Unfortunately, yes!" Wilhelmina affirmed. "I understand how you feel about it. I really do! No one dislikes it any more than I do, but you can never be too careful if you want to keep this secret from your mother. One day when you've the respect of a great dancer you can go to ballet dressed as you please. That much I can promise you!" She then went on to tell him about herself, her famous mother and about both their many accomplishments in the world of ballet. She also told him about how much she thought of his dancing. She could see his joy written on his smile when she spoke of his potential, and how he had danced so very well. "Of course there are many tricks to the trade and nuances you must learn, but if you're willing to make the commitment and listen closely to what I have to tell you, you'll find success." Wilhelmina was delighted to see him so flushed with excitement, but it was his voice and his words of candor that made her laugh for the first time in years - giving her reason to live once again. "Can you teach me to be as good at Tae Kwon Do?" She had to tell him no, of course. She pointed out that he really wasn't cut out to make a good Martial Arts student. They all had a good laugh over her honesty. As the three approached Rosaline's tenement stairs, Wilhelmina gave thought to the new sense of comfort she had found. No one questioned her style of dress, nor her manner. Gone was the anger and the frustration. Now, she felt the joy from the laughter and a renewed pride in whom and what she was. As for Simon, she couldn't really explain the feelings she had toward him other than it just felt right to want to help. She also knew that standing beside him she felt a new purpose. Wilhelmina really didn't understand it all yet, but intuitively knew that if ever she was to find the meaning of it all, Simon would somehow play a part. Chapter VI The Preparations Wilhelmina watched over her young troupe going through their paces at barre. She carefully scrutinized the pli?, developp? and battement reps with the eye of an artisan and the determination of a drill instructor. "Your hands, people . . . the movement is about the hands! Remember, palms inward, arc the elbow and the wrists in a crescent. The sweep upward should be like a slow breeze filling a ship's sail." "Loosen your wrists, Rachel! Like so, oui?" "Remember your hands are expressing something. Let them speak for you. Watch and listen to what they are saying!" No one had reason to question Wilhelmina's command of the dancing arts nor her commitment to her troupe. Whether she spoke sharply or in praise it was never disputed in whose interest she labored. That was just as true before as after she revised the program to include her new rehearsal protocols and routines, all of which Leonora and her students happily embraced. The changes made sense to everyone. It stood to reason that one "should be judged on proper mien as one is judged on performance". Moreover, everyone would now train with performance objects in mind, always "en costume" to add purpose and refinement to one's efforts. The change meant that everyone would now have to wear their new matching blue Danseskin leotards and white tights for every session. She had Katherine's charitable donation to thank for the more gender-neutral costumes, replete with a warm-up jacket with a "Junior Ballet Assn." crest on the sleeve. The donation came at no small expense and soon became the nexus around which their new sense of group pride and identity emerged. Everyone was pleased, especially Simon, who would no longer have to wear the more feminine pink leotard and white stretch-knit stockings he had borrowed from Rosaline. Wilhelmina couldn't have been more grateful for everything her mother now saw fit to do for her, nor could Katherine had been more happy to help. After all, Katherine had a lot to be thankful about these days. She saw her contribution to her daughter's troupe as but a small token of her appreciation, happily given after the renewal of their mother-daughter relationship. --- Much had changed in Wilhelmina and Katherine's relationship since the day of the Lacy Richardson affair. After her chance encounter with Leonora and Simon, she went home to talk with her mother. It was Wilhelmina who had taken the initiative to set things right and the smile she wore was the first Katherine had seen on her daughter's face in years. That night Wilhelmina told her mother about wanting to "right" her life, about Leonora's studio and how it all seemed to point to her lack of direction. She spoke about the students who respected her for her talents and how unassuming and nonjudgmental they were about her choice of dress. She also said that while this was a great opportunity, it was something she could only do on her own terms. That meant Katherine would have to accept her for whom she was. She would gladly give up all identity associated with her wretched past, but in her manner and dress could no longer be expected to be Katherine's, "pretty little princess". Katherine wasn't overcome with joy over her daughter's well chosen words, but she accepted them. She believed it was a good start on the eventual return to normal life for Wilhelmina and held her tongue. In doing so, mother and daughter reached out to one another and Katherine embraced her daughter for the first time in years. Their joyful reconciliation brought a promise to respect Wilhelmina's wishes and, after a phone call to her attorney, Katherine expressed confidence that the juvenile court judge could be convinced to do the same. Surely the court would insist upon restrictions in her associations, a repayment of medical costs and probation. In the end, however, she felt confident she could convince the court to grant Wilhelmina her freedom as well. Both mother and daughter held to their word. Wilhelmina was smiling again and the open exchange broke down the barriers that had added to their pain. In compliance of the court order, she gladly ceased all association with Tae Kwon Do, the gym, the Warlords and Banshees. To end the unnecessary antagonism, Katherine ceased her criticisms of Wilhelmina's dress and Wilhelmina stopped the exaggerated fashion statement that no longer suited her. Her new fashion of choice was a white denim, Versace suit and matching Toulouse fedora. Wilhelmina acquired the men's apparel and all the associated accents the next day, dragging a hesitant Katherine along with her. They shopped at the Men's Emporium, of course. Above all else, Wilhelmina would stand firm on the cut of the coat, the trousers and the style of the red tie and brown Wingtips. As well, the signature of her apparel would remain the long, black comb kept in her back pocket to primp her slicked back pompadour. Wilhelmina left the store pleased with her new image. As for Katherine? While she had hoped that her daughter would also abandon the jockey shorts and sideburns, she was pleased those detestable black leathers and Warlord jacket were gone forever. --- The dawn of Wilhelmina's new life began in Leonora's dance studio with the first blossoms of spring. Given full creative and artistic control, she set off to resurrect the spirit of the program and rekindle a glory now as faded as the sun worn drapery. From the elements that made up the whole of Madam Leonora's little studio she created a new world of her own making. She alone ordained the genesis, evolution, and the order of all things ballet - all with Leonora's smiling approval. After all, she had no reason to doubt the proven skills of her new dance mistress who dressed in a white denim Versace suit. Neither did the little corps de ballet, who happily paid homage with the adoration in their hearts. At Madam Leonora's, no one questioned Wilhelmina's masculine appearance - nor her past. Day after day, she gratefully committed her all to her devoted congregation, free to renounce the past she wanted to keep secret. That is, until the day an unexpected and unwelcome memory came slithering through the front door. It was just her 2nd week at the studio and she recognized him immediately, as he did her. The sight of Bubba "Snake" Johnson, in his black leather Warlord jacket, with that dimwitted smirk on his face brought all life in the studio instantly to a halt. She felt certain that his acknowledging gesture toward her was going to lead to her ruin, but a quick acting Leonora intervened, escorting him into her office instead. Everything seemed cordial enough, and before Leonora closed the door behind them Wilhelmina could hear him asking about a janitor job that was available. Of course, the fact that he had come stumbling into the studio looking for a job did little to ease her anxiety. Nor did the fact that they spoke behind the closed door for so agonizingly long. Pensive and prepared for the worst, she waited for the moment Leonora would angrily storm out of the office having learned all about her deplorable past. She would know about "Willie the Warlord" who had assaulted an innocent girl; about the lies she perpetrated to conceal the truth and the deceit behind her "good Samaritan" offer so she could stay. In anger, Leonora would kick her out of the studio, no explanations asked; Simon and her hopes for redemption lost forever. But when they emerged neither Buddy nor Leonora looked Wilhelmina's way, nor spoke to anyone as Leonora escorted him out the door. That was the last she was to see of him and Leonora never gave any hint that he had revealed any truth about her. Whether Leonora knew more than she would tell about Wilhelmina's unsightly past or chose to keep what she knew secret, it did little to bolster her shaken confidence. Exactly what motive Leonora could have in keeping what happened in the office a secret Wilhelmina didn't know. She even wondered whether she had wrongly placed her trust in Leonora. Nevertheless, as the room filled with activity and her students cried out for her attention, she gave up worrying and threw herself into her work. Without a clue to go on, there was nothing else for her to do. How could she know that Leonora secretly rejoiced over all she had learned from Bubba or that, while she began working with her students again, Leonora sat in her office planning all that was yet to come. "Demi-plie' and stretch! Demi-plie' and stretch! . . .Extension, Rachel! Torso over hips is critical, my dear!" --- Even after the operation had confined Leonora to a wheelchair Wilhelmina still counted on her for help with the class. Not surprisingly, Leonora was only too pleased to help, choosing to oversee the costume and grooming of all in the little troupe. It made the best of sense because she had already been crusading to see that everyone followed Wilhelmina's "en costume" and "proper mien" edicts to a tee. "It will not do to have unsightly nails, or skin of a rhinoceros," Leonora would declare. "We shall be judged on our person as we are judged on our performance." Of course, it helped that everyone had the utmost respect for Leonora. At 65, she could be a bit too resolute in her thinking and at times unyielding; although she was also very fair minded, with a sense of equality that underscored her desire to do what was best for all. Given her comforting smile and motherly affections, her students found her endearing and impossible to disagree with. Now, bound to a wheelchair as she was, they would jump through a ring of fire to accommodate her. Leonora's posture toward her students was a given. She expected the same from them all, holding all to the same standards. In fact, her desire to hold everyone to the same standards was the gospel of equity Leonora taught. She was just as apt to fuss over Simon's attire as that of the girls. The same held when she advised him on the care of his nails or how to maintain the smoothness of his legs. She did so with everyone and it had been this way long before Wilhelmina had arrived on the scene. --- Simon was a high school sophomore when Leonora had first met him. He had come with a student of hers, Rosaline Maxwell. Rosaline spoke on his behalf because it had been she who had convinced Simon to forego his fears, and his masculine identity, beneath the dress and bandanna disguise. It was the best she could do for her friend who wanted to dance ballet but feared having his secret known. Whenever Leonora recalled her first meeting with Simon she always wore the most sublime grin. How could she not? As Leonora told the story, "It wasn't every day that a boy wearing a dress and bandanna disguise came through the door asking 'to dance ballet just like Rosaline'." She was also quick to tell how his unusual request had startled her, but after regaining her composure she saw in him a sincerity more far reaching than the naivet? of his words. "At first, I thought it was a prank, a Halloween trick come February. Then I saw the way he was - eyes lowered, his hands fidgeting with a cord-belt tied about the waist of what was Roseline's borrowed dress - and I knew." She was honest with him, telling him that though this was not the kind of thing a boy usually wanted, she understood his desire, and agreed. For the sake of propriety she agreed to do her part to keep his secret as well. Naturally, questions abounded right from the start. How was she to justify the presence of a boy in this exclusive feminine and, untill now, exclusionary world of her making? This was supposed to be a girls only world, a place where girls can be girls apart from the pervasively male dominant world outside. Clearly changes would be in order if this was to work, and she told him so. First, Leonora promised that she would always be candid with him. She told him that ballet demanded complete commitment and, since she expected the same commitment from everyone, it wouldn't do to treat him differently or give him special favors. On this point she was adamant. It was to be a rule that both would have to honor and always abide if this was going to work. Then too, it would take more than group conformity if the troupe were to function as a unit. This was an all girl troupe after all, and Simon was a boy; a different sort of boy, but a boy nonetheless. To Leonora, all boys suffered from the same unruliness and inattention as your average bull in a china shop. Obviously such boyishness wouldn't do, so she made a point of this too, telling him he'd have to leave the boyish snips and snails behind in the street; that inside this studio, only sugar and spice would do. "It won't be easy, Simon. I can be very intolerant, especially when it comes to inattention, recalcitrance and sloppiness, but if you are willing to try . . ." In turn, she promised that she would do her best to subdue his boyish penchant and to keep his attention from wandering. If he agreed, this too would become a rule upon which both would abide. For his part, Simon was all too happy to agree. He said he didn't want special treatment, he only wanted to dance. He promised he'd do whatever it took not to be a problem and do whatever Leonora asked of him. Indeed, it was a teary eyed Simon who begged to be given the chance, promising to mind her every word. Whether he fully understood the implications of her sugar and spice refrain made little difference to Leonora. She'd expect nothing less from him regardless, then set out to teach Simon how to become the dancer he wanted to be. It didn't take long for Leonora to see his natural gifts and his potential. He was a quick learner, exceedingly handsome with the natural lean and delicate appearance one would expect of a dancer. In addition, he possessed an infectious exuberance in everything he did. Always bright and cheerful, everyone in the troupe had nothing but the warmest affections toward him. All this came naturally to Simon, as did the accommodations he made. Having been raised without paternal influence had already made him thoroughly respectful of everything feminine. In fact, he had such respect for things feminine that neither the girlish attire, incessant teasing, nor the things Leonora asked him to do deterred him. Arguably, there is a lot more to learn about becoming a ballet dancer than learning the movements and putting on the exercise leotard. Simon understood this and, because he asked and was anxious to learn, Leonora took it upon herself to show him what a dancer must do to appear properly groomed. "As the language of the body is the key to success in dance, proper grooming holds boys and girls in equally good stead." As she did all her students, Leonora advised him how to manage the collar length hair that hindered his vision. Of course her solution was the most obvious and natural. She showed him how to gather up his hair and bind it in a ponytail with a pink tie to keep it neat and out of his way. Along with that, she also advised him on the importance of shaving his legs and underarms as she told him "all ballet dancers must do." She taught him how to avoid unsightly acne with a daily facial scrub regime, then provided a small cosmetic case containing all the items he would need. It was a case he could conceal on his person, kept hidden from his mother, and containing nothing too flowery so as not arouse suspicion. She assured him that she would replenish the shaving gel, disposable razors and skin cleansers when needed, and expected him to follow the regime every day. Simon followed Leonora's grooming program and, to ease any suspicions his mother might have had, he told her that his new rosy aspect was just part of the Eastern religious tenets of Tae Kwon Do mastery. He explained that it's the nature of Eastern thought for something so potentially violent to also be poised, refined and splendid: ". . . like the Lion before he strikes." It was a good enough explanation, though Eunice never asked him to explain himself. All the mattered was that Tae Kwon Do was a manly art, and the male attachments he found there would surely help cultivate the independent young man she wanted him to become. Was she supposed to think there was more to his manicured nails, clean shaven legs, and flowery scent other than he claimed? She knew enough about her son, and not enough about this mysterious Eastern art form, to question his word. Besides, she had to admire the fact that he so loved Tae Kwon Do that he even endure having a fellow warrior pierce his ears for the little Lotus Flower pendants - vaulted symbols of Eastern thought - so he'd look poised and splendid before his enemy. In turn, Simon was free to accommodate the girlish world of ribbons and lace about him. His hair, skin and nails enjoyed the daily application of specialty soaps, creams, shampoos, and oils carried home in his hidden cosmetic case. They softened, soothed and moisturized every part of him; any remaining blemishes were covered with foundation. Surely Leonora could not expect less from Simon than what she expected from everyone else. In fact, she insisted that for girls and boys alike; special attention to proper hygiene and grooming was essential All of this he accepted, and none of it he refused because it wouldn't do for him to be given special favors, nor to be treated differently. "Filles! . . . et jeune monsieur! It's time we untie your blocks so I can see how well we've tended to the rest of our nails!" Now, after almost two years of such treatment, Simon featured the most rosy complexion, the most delicious nails and legs as smooth and soft as any girl in class. As he said of himself to his mother, "I'm a fearless warrior, poised and splendid ready to strike" - though not very likely to strike fear in the heart of his enemy. That is, of course, unless his enemy happened to suffer an allergic response to his richly fragrant perfume. To say that Leonora looked upon her creation fondly would be an understatement. Like a mother cat tending to her kitten, she scrutinized his appearance at every turn and seldom neglected an affectionate pat on his bottom, telling him how pretty he looked. "I declare! If you are not the prettiest lass in Manhattan", Leonora would purr. Naturally, Simon would blush from the compliment, rather than the innuendo in her words. Then he would sigh and kiss Leonora gratefully on the cheek before stepping out onto the dance floor without a second thought. --- Obviously there was much to Leonora and Simon's relationship that Wilhelmina had yet to understand. In truth, she often found herself scratching her head in wonder over the bond forged between them. It hardly mattered though; she would never think to question the nature of that bond no matter how stringent Leonora's resolve, nor how great a shadow she cast over a lesser Simon. To Wilhelmina, theirs was a relationship years in the making, and the trust they had for one another made it quite apparent that theirs was a relationship that served them both well. Indeed, she had only the best of reasons to believe in Leonora just as Simon did. She was firm, yet evenhanded, mothering and protective of all in her brood. She was all this and more toward Simon, who always had her attention, and whose best interests were always first on her mind. "It serves no one's interest to single him out for special treatment. Pointing him out as an oddity will only make it harder on him, and unfair to the others." --- For the first few months, Leonora left the business of the day in Wilhelmina's capable hands. In truth, she kept herself invisibly tucked away in her office, busy with the editing work that many production companies had contracted her to perform. She had every confidence that Wilhelmina would manage the class admirably, and showed it by leaving her to her affairs as she saw fit. That is, until the last half-hour of each session. That's when Leonora would exercise her self-appointed duties managing the proper hygiene and grooming habits of all in her little troupe. That was also the time Wilhelmina thought best to keep her nose out from where it might not be welcome. Instead, she would sit behind Leonora's desk to help as best she could with the script- editing work that Leonora had yet to complete. There she would work with one eye on the correction's Leonora had made, and the other peering into the studio from a respectable distance. But respectable distance or not, a more peculiar spectacle one was not likely to see! From her seat in the office, Wilhelmina would shrug her shoulders, and shake her head over the things Leonora did in the name of Simon's best interest. It was a sight to watch her attend to everyone's nails, complexion and costume with such attention to detail. If that spectacle wasn't enough to cause her to shake her head in wonder, she need only consider how Simon was virtually indistinguishable in his dress and demeanor from the girls. Simon and girls alike, prim and proper, every be-ribboned ponytail brushed, every plump rosy cheek aglow. Then Leonora's, "Filles, et jeune monsieur, best face forward," would bring into focus the earnest faces - all prettily painted as they were. With all her pixies in a row, Leonora would closely inspect each beautifully sculpted, rose pink nail. Then she would have them stand en pointe, one elegantly pointed slipper postured before the other. With arms up in a crowning 5th position, glossed lips pursed and chins held high, she'd inspect the shaven smoothness of each leg, under arm and bikini line. Then when done, the rosy hue of blushing cheeks gave ample evidence to the health of their complexions, Simon's included! It was left for Wilhelmina to wonder if Leonora's discerning fingers left any personal modesty uncompromised. Here, she chose to ignore the details. Besides, noting the occasional sound of panty elastic snapping back in place or giggle or humorous refrain would be far too distracting to her work. "Prickly leafs on a flower so sweet / is never pleasing, pretty or neat / Silky smooth, not stubble nor debris / A pistil to attract the pollinating bee." Though she chose not to bother with Leonora's antics, Wilhelmina did muse over the absurdity of it all. It wasn't just her humorous propensity to refer to her students as "flowers" in the studio "garden", nor that Simon would want to keep himself, and his pistil (whatever that was), shaven smooth to attract pollinating bees. What she found amusing was Simon's unwavering resignation to Leonora's treatment of him. When Wilhelmina stopped to consider the sight of him amid the girlish array, she entertained the strangest thought. What if Leonora were to have him step out onto the floor in pretty lace panties and training bra, or worse yet, nothing at all? Would he still not complain? Of course, Wilhelmina found Simon's acceptance of all this rather peculiar, especially since he professed such love for his mother and lived in continual fear of shaming her. Wilhelmina would have thought that any boy worth the weight of his genetic code would have fought like hell to preserve his masculinity. Not Simon. His only utterance was his sigh; to Wilhelmina his silence said more about himself, and the nature of his relationship with Leonora, than words ever could. Wilhelmina said nothing about Leonora's strange antics. As she saw it, no complaint, no harm done. She had promised Simon she would help him become the ballet dancer of his dreams, and it mattered not whether he danced as a boy or a girl. Instead she remained quiet and kept herself busy with the work in the office. Then at the end of the day, when it was time to walk him home, she'd simply return his glance with a smile. Along with her smile, her unspoken acknowledgment gave Simon reason enough to resign himself to his circumstance even more. Yet we must remember that Wilhelmina did have her principles. Indeed, she even considered herself rather high minded about such things as fair play and equality. Sissy boy or not, she wasn't going to stand by and allow anyone to take advantage of him. To that end she continued to look on with a judicious eye, cautiously receptive of Leonora's strange theatrics. --- Throughout the Spring, Wilhelmina worked hard to engender a new sense of pride and accomplishment in her little troupe. She demanded a lot from them and their progress exceeded in ways what neither she nor Leonora could have envisioned. It was an extraordinary transformation from what had been just a few short months before. One could not watch them dance without seeing as promising a troupe as could be found anywhere. This was especially true about Simon, who had quickly become the best dancer in their troupe. Wilhelmina was due the credit for using the best of all she had learned to make her students success possible. Experience taught her to expect practical outcomes, then teach goal directed activities. To accomplish this she entered her troupe in a competition to test their fledgling skills and to help her "teach up" to the level everyone aspired. The competition she chose was the annual Youth Ballet Competition, sponsored by the Center for the Performing Arts. Wilhelmina knew that the annual pageant at the Center always brought out the best. The instant recognition and the $500.00 first prize for the Most Outstanding School, not to mention the Individual Best in Performance, assured that. She knew that annual competition would be tough; perhaps a bit too tough for their first competition. Had it not been for Katherine and Leonora's prodding to register her troupe for the competition she certainly wouldn't have even thought to do so on her own. Perhaps it was Katherine's puzzling wink-and-a-nod, followed by her comment about the chief judge being an old friend, that brought Wilhelmina around to their way of thinking. Perhaps it was a need to pull for the underdog, to help gain some recognition for the otherwise invisible little studio. Whatever her reasons for entering the competition, Wilhelmina worked hard to bring out the best in her dancers, giving them every opportunity to succeed. Now, after three months to ready themselves and only one month remaining before the competition, the importance of it all was only now coming to bear. Thus far, both Leonora and Wilhelmina were very pleased with how their arrangement of Act II, "The Rose Garden" from Sleeping Beauty was turning out. It was the selection assigned to her troupe by the contest committee, but from the start she was puzzled as to how the committee had come to make this choice considering the presence of a boy in her troupe. Clearly a mistake had been made, and as there were no boy fairies in the Rose Garden scene, she believed she had every right to appeal the selection for the choice of another. However, from the onset Leonora had favored it. While she swore that the error made by the contest committee was not her doing, she believed the choice uniquely suited for both genders equally. "Wilhelmina. It's not at all unusual to see a male dancer add his masculine panache to a traditional lady's routine. In fact, I find it rather fanciful, don't you?" Wilhelmina found it a reach to argue that it was simply a matter of Simon's costume, or his learning a few feminine movements. She also couldn't shake the feeling that Leonora was tactfully and skillfully maneuvering her into agreeing to something against her better judgment. In the end, however, it was Leonora's powers of persuasion that convinced her, and everyone else, that the choice was fitting. While unsettled by Leonora's argument, she thought it wise not to question her counsel and let the selection stand. As for Simon? Whether it was because of his naivet?, or because it was in his nature not to protest, he was the first to agree. The following month of preparation did not bring a single word of complaint from him. He learned the distinctively feminine movements with ease. As well, he expressed great devotion to the artistry of his work, always aspiring to be the best. That is, until the fairy costumes the troupe would wear for the performance arrived at the studio. Much like all other pageants, the contest committee mandated what contestants would wear to eliminate costuming as a factor in judging. In truth, the committee mandated that the same camisole design leotards of cotton chiffon be worn year after year. There were rose colored costumes for the Rose fairies, aqua for the Woodland fairies, black for Carabosse and a soft white chiffon for Princess Aurora. If you excluded the French cut panty, the sheer fabric and embroidered lace and sequined lattice wings, the spaghetti strap camisole design was rather modest by most standards. Though modest as the costume might have been, Simon was quite peeved when he first saw it. "Wilhelmina! I can't wear this on stage!" Though Wilhelmina knew that no male would want to be caught dead wearing a costume so obviously feminine, she found it difficult to feel sorry for him. She knew all about his fear of shaming his mother and all else that the term "sissy" implied. However, in her way of thinking, he should have seen this coming. Hadn't he agreed with Leonora that the "Rose Garden" selection was suitable for the troupe to perform? As well, he won the lead role of Princess Aurora not only because he was the best dancer, but because he wanted it. What was he expecting? Was he so naive as to believe Leonora or the contest committee would allow him to dance a girl's part in a boy's costume? Still it played heavily upon her sense of fair play to try to convince Simon to do something he didn't want to do and, knowing how he felt, it troubled her to have to use her influence over him in this way. Making matters worse was the fact that none of this was her doing. Leonora had set this up, if a setup it could be called, and Wilhelmina didn't like it one little bit. Even so, Wilhelmina knew that preparations had already come too far to change things now. The truth was that without him, the troupe would have to withdraw from the competition. Under the circumstance she had no choice, and she told him so. "Look, Simon! My hands are tied and there's nothing I can do. You know that the contest committee governs what contestants will wear, not me. Now, it's yours to decide if the best dancer in the troupe is to dance the lead role you have earned. Just remember that everything this troupe has been working so hard to achieve depends upon what you decide." "Yes, but. . . " "'Yes but' nothing, Simon! You must have known this was coming; and if not, you should have." "Wilhelmina! Everyone's going to call me a sissy!" "No one is going to know, unless you tell them," she rebuked, no longer bothering to hide her agitation. "Think of it like the dress and bandanna disguise you wear to class. Just another masquerade to hide your little secret!" "But I'll be on stage. . . in front of judges! How can anyone not know?" "Well now! Have a look at yourself, Simon. You're wearing pink leotards and ballet blocks. You have your ponytail tied with a ribbon; you've smoothly shaven legs and cheeks so rosy that it's impossible not to mistake you for an enchanted fairy. Do you think a dainty camisole leotard with wings is going to make a difference?" "Please don't be angry with me, Wilhelmina. It's just that I know it will never work and then my mother will find out. It'll be the end of her, I know!" "Simon! This was your idea, not mine! You agreed with Leonora. Now deal with it!" "Oh! Wilhelmina, Please! What should I do?" "The choice is yours, not mine. Either you chose not to dance and we withdraw from the competition, or you stop acting like a wimp, put on that damn costume, and stop the bitchin'." Although leery, he reluctantly agreed that the sheer abstraction he would have to wear as Princess Aurora wasn't reason enough for him to give up the lead role he had earned. As well, it was far easier for him to agree than to disappoint someone whom he cared very much about. So to appease Wilhelmina he agreed, and she thanked him in recognition of his sacrifice. To not further upset him she thought it wise to keep secret the crinoline ruffle tutu, flower tiara and nylon hosiery that would be added to his costume later. It was the gaff harness with its accompanying silk panty that truly drew his ire. The matched pieces were designed to conceal his masculine bulge back up between his legs, and the meager rose colored piece of silk was nothing he wished to trifle with. As the gaff and panty were Madam Leonora's personal addenda to the costume it was now her time to intervene. She told Simon he should not feel ashamed. She said that it was not the costume that made one a great dancer - it was his performance that mattered. Not wanting to knock the petals off her young bloom, she then did what was her custom whenever she wished to remind Simon of something important. She'd take his hands in hers; gaze intently into his eyes; and carefully measure the cadence and sound of her voice. "Rule one: Simon, I expect nothing more of you than I expect from everyone else. Rule two: I told you this was not a place for boyish snips and snails. Now tell me, Simon, will another choice of costume make you a better dancer? Will wearing the panty make you any less a man or command any more, or less, respect for your performance?" After explaining that the girls would wear the gaff, panty and a wrap to flatten the chest, he grudgingly agreed that in fairness to all that he too would conform. After all, wasn't in the nature of their relationship for him to acquiesce to Leonora's wishes? Besides, as Leonora was quick to point out, ". . . without it, everyone was going to see every last detail of that lil'pinkie of yours sticking out through the sheer." She didn't need to continue on with her agrument, but as it was commonplace for her to carry her satirical antics to the extreme, she did so anyway. She drew up close to him and dangled the diaphanous little garment before his startled eyes for him to take hold of. "Come now, Simon. They'll not bite you. Look! It has the all the same dainty ribbon-bows and pretty lace trim the girls must also wear." Leonora's bold pronouncement caused a stir of giggles. He hesitated, then joined his friends in a self-effacing laugh at himself before reaching to take hold of what was his. "Or would you prefer I ask the girls to wear boxer shorts to accommodate your timidity?" Once again, using her shrewd persuasiveness, Leonora prevailed; convincing Simon that the intimate apparel was both fitting and fair to wear under the circumstances. After everything was said, there was no question as to the fit of the costume and - with no obvious visible disparity - how nice it looked upon him! The high hip cut made his naturally long and slender legs appear unending, and the bare shoulder camisole gave his spindly arms the sweeping largeness of wings. Excluding his flush caused by the teasing lavishly imposed upon him, it would have been hard to single him out among the others. He was a pleasure to look at and, either by the feminine habits he was quickly assimilating or by Leonora's prodding, Simon appeared the little ingenue as well. When in costume, he was never without his radiant smile, infectious laughter nor capricious playfulness. Standing with his arms wrapped around his midriff, or his hands held conspicuously high and away to keep from crimping the billowing flounce about his hips, he didn't seem a boy in duress. Neither did his mannerisms, mimicked after the girls about him. He was forever pulling up on his slackened camisole bodice as the girls did to insure the bust's modest d?colletage, and forever pulling down on the elasticized material that inched up between the crease in his plump bottom. As the "disguises" that Simon now counted upon to conceal his masculine identity continued to grow, so did his acceptance of his circumstance. Like the sacrifice made by a dedicated trouper, he courageously relinquished a bit more of himself for the good of the cause. But sacrifice or not, his pollyanna-ish view of the sacrifices he was making did not go unnoticed by his classmates. Especially Gerty, who caused a flurry of giggles by asking Simon if he was going to be wearing a white strapless bra to coordinate with the bodice, or a pink one to match his new, pretty panty? "Just ask to borrow one of her trainers." Rosaline laughed out in his defense. "It works for her." When all was said and done, the whole affair proved quite an eye opener for Wilhelmina. Suddenly, Leonora no longer looked like the tired and worn ballet mistress she had once appeared. Her character was evolving, no less than Simon's, and in equally unexpected directions. To be candid, her manipulation was as cunning a maneuver as any Wilhelmina had witnessed in the Banshee sisterhood. Likewise, her control of the situation, along with her dominion over Simon, showed the kind of skill that would make anyone a very worthy opponent. --- These were certainly busy times for Wilhelmina, considering all the work yet to be done before their upcoming performance of Sleeping Beauty. In all manner of ways she juggled what time there was, but there never seemed to be enough. It was all very demanding, but she always found the time for her work-out in the weight room at school, keeping herself fit and consuming those hormone laden cocktails in vast quantities. She even found the time to occasionally stop by Frank's Tattoo Parlor. She didn't know why she was drawn there. It was, after all, part of the past she was trying hard to forget. Frank's, like everything else about her past life was nothing she was proud of, going there only heightened her worry about the consequences should Leonora find out about any of this. For twenty bucks Frank would have gladly ratted on her - telling every agonizing detail about Alyssa, the Warlords and the Lacy Richardson incident. If she had thought it through she would have known that it wasn't worth it; the risk of being tossed from Leonora's studio for so little didn't make sense, but as old habits die hard. She went anyway. She cautiously found her way back to Frank's, and after seeing his titanic smile and hearing his infectious laughter she quickly found the old comfort she once knew there. She'd peruse the wares and listen to the gossip about everything, including all he had knew about Alyssa's most recent stint in juvenile hall for grand theft. She even found comfort in listening to Frank try yet again to talk her into that "Devil or Angel" tattoo she wanted so much to be hers. He'd try his best to coax her but, as they both knew she still wasn't ready, he'd finally resign himself to tell her, "One day . . . I'm a-go'in ta paint on Willie's arm da badest damn tat-toooo I've ever done - jus ta make ya proud." On that she turned to leave, then wistfully replied, "One day, Frank. One day when I'm ready." Like Wilhelmina, the weeks leading up to the performance were also busy ones for Simon. Now resolute in the task of bringing a certain masculine panache to a traditional woman's routine, he gave it his all - that is, he gave what little remained of his unique masculine self. Thanks to the feminine habits he was quickly assimilating there wasn't a lot left of manly style and flair left to exude. Of course Simon couldn't see that, he was naively unsuspecting as he labored to perfect every nuance; completely convinced he was adding that certain quality that Leonora said was his alone to give. "Honestly, darling. You have such a lovely touch of mystery about your princess. One can scarcely see the impersonation." It was around this time that matters about the studio also began to change. In offering to help Simon refine the subtle nuances of his role, Leonora began to impose more of herself in the daily affairs of the studio. This unwelcome intrusion into her affairs was a big problem for Wilhelmina because Leonora's increased presence also meant a more outspoken Leonora, bolder and more imposing than ever before. "Ahhh, that's my sugar! Let your audience share the mystery behind those fluttering lashes and pursed, red lips. Oh my! The spice, so nice!" Perhaps Wilhelmina should've asked Leonora if she hadn't enough to keep her busy in the office! All her eccentricities aside, her flamboyant, soap opera-like antics were an extreme aggravation, and it was difficult to understand why she would behave this way. She thought that Leonora would have wanted to serve as a model of stateliness and decorum to which her students could aspire with dignity and professionalism. Apparently, Leonora saw it otherwise. When she wheeled herself out onto the floor to work with her students she appeared to leave all good sense behind. She became a kind of eccentric Merry Andrew, sliding into an overly ripe, emotion laden dialogue so rich in flowery adjectives as to seem condescending. To Wilhelmina, it was unbecoming. It didn't make sense, nor did it appear to be sound teaching practice, though clearly no one else felt the same. In Leonora's presence, everyone was always so much more spirited and agreeable; even her condescending repartee brought nothing but blushes and giggles. No one thought wrong of her, not even Simon, even when her comments belied the fact that he was a boy and not a girl. It all seemed rather odd, yet she had come to expect as much from Simon. He never spoke in defense of himself, he simply lowered his eyes and sighed. She couldn't confess to understanding his responses any more than she understood why Leonora behaved as she did. However, there was something about his sigh that was reminiscently familiar to her. It was at night when she dreamt those recurring dreams, where she found herself trying to follow Alyssa into the dark of the alley. She'd walk endlessly toward her but the distance between them never diminished, no matter how hard she tried. Then she'd awaken and, like Simon, was left to her unrequited desire -