Page 4 of Hooked on a Demon
Colson lifts his left leg and rests his ankle on his right knee as he lays his notepad on his thigh. His pen scratches across the paper, the sound of which is like nails on a chalkboard to her as he makes notes. Looking up from his pad, his gaze catches hers, and he suggests, “Why don’t we start with what’s frustrating you.”
She resists the urge to grumble at him like a petulant teenager. Instead, she casts her eyes down to her hands, where she picks at the skin along her nail, trying to find the words. After what feels like ages with Colson waiting, for he never rushes her, she says, “I feel like I’m not me.” Colson shifts, and she knows he’s going to ask why, so she raises her hand to stop him before he can. “I know. We’ve talked about this before, and I’ve accepted my career path has changed, but it doesn’t mean I don’t still miss it. Long for it even. I miss the stage and the joy of dancing every night for a new group of people.”
“How do you feel when you’re with your pupils?”
Eliana smiles, thinking of her little group of toddlers who are pure joy in her class. “I love them. They are fun and adorable and embody the joy of dance.”
“So, is it possible you could find joy with them, and your other students? They may not be a new group of people every night, but is it possible your joy still exists, but has taken on a new shape?”
She runs his question through her mind. Does joy for her still exist, but it wears a different mask? Instead of a new crowd, she gets to watch her littles grow and prosper in this art form. “Yeah, that’s possible.”
“If you have joy and dance, what leaves you feeling stuck?”
Eliana pauses before answering, almost afraid to admit what she’s about to say out loud. “I left Leeside with the intent to never come home. I had big dreams. Aspirations. I was going to be the next principal dancer for the Harmony Dance Company—one of the largest and most prestigious organizations. As you know, my dream was cut short thanks to a ruptured Achilles, and after a lengthy time healing post-surgery and being on my own, unable to do what I loved, I moved back here. The problem is that I find myself still wantingmore.I love teaching little ones now, but it doesn’t quite fulfill me in the same way dancing professionally did. I live on my own. I basically go to work and go home. I have the odd brunch date with my best friend from childhood… but it’s not enough.”
“It sounds like you feel more lost than stuck, which is normal. You lost a big part of your life. Something you had been working toward for presumably the majority of your life. And now you’re back in a place that you left behind. Does that sound right?”
“Yeah.”
“You are allowed to grieve what once was.”
She wipes away a single tear from the corner of her eye. She’s been feeling this way since she returned home but had been worried that others would think it was her being dramatic. That her feelings weren’t right. It’s not uncommon for dancers who face career-ending injuries like hers to never set foot in a studio again. The pain—both physical and mental—is too much. She knows she’s lucky that she’s still able to have dance in her life, but that doesn’t mean she feels any less out of sorts with her current situation.
“I know,” she says softly, more to herself as an attempt to validate her own feelings.
Colson leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, pen and pad clasped in his left hand as it hangs between his knees. “Then the question remains: what do you think you need to help you find your footing again? To feel more grounded rather than like a bag in the wind searching for a place to land.”
“I don’t know.”
He looks at the clock. “Well, I think for your homework, you need to think about that. Consider what you need. What do you think will help you feel less lost? We can talk about that next time.”
“Okay,” Eliana replies, gathering her coat from the arm of the couch as she stands. “Thanks, Colson.”
* * *
Eliana pulls open the door to Strike a Pose dance studio and steps into the naturally lit lobby. “Good morning, Bellamy.”
Eliana grew up coming to Strike a Pose for lessons. She loved her jazz classes but always felt more drawn to ballet. When she was old enough, Eliana started working here and helping out with some of the younger classes before eventually taking on her own as she went through the dance program at Leeside University. It was only natural to come back when she found herself living in Leeside again.
“Morning, Ellie. How are you this morning?” she chimes. Bellamy is probably the happiest person Eliana knows. Or at least that’s the vibe she gives off. She’s always so cheery and has a warm and welcoming smile. She’s like the company mom, only she’s twenty-three. She is truly an old soul, and it’s impossible not to love her.
“I’m doing okay,” Eliana answers. “Little car trouble this morning, but I managed to get here.”
“Oh no. Do you think you’ll need to take it to get fixed?”
Eliana raises a hand and crosses her fingers in front of her. “I hope not. I don’t really have the funds for any major repairs right now.”
“That’s always the way, isn’t it?” Bellamy replies, turning back to her computer.
“It appears that way,” Eliana says more to herself than to Bellamy. Eliana waves half-heartedly at her before walking to the staff room at the back of the studio. She puts her duffle bag into her locker, removes her outdoor shoes, and slides on her dance slippers. She’s got a class of toddlers this morning for their ballet lesson, followed by a couple of teen contemporary groups, and finishing up with a tween school jazz class. It’s her busiest day of the week, and as much as she never saw herself as a child dance instructor, she loves coming in and seeing all their faces and the pride as they finally land their spin or jump for the first time.
Eliana would prefer to spend her days on the big stage, dancing her heart out, drenched in sweat and out of breath. However, thanks to an injury last year preventing her from her dream of dancing full-time, she now shares her love of the art form by teaching the next little stars. The same injury alongside an unsupportive boyfriend also meant she had to move back home to Leeside. No longer able to keep her apartment in the big city without the principal dancer’s earnings and feeling alone in her relationship, Eliana moved back home a couple of months ago. It’s not exactly where she saw her life heading when she moved to the big city, but she’s still happy to be able to share her passion on a smaller scale if it means keeping dance in her life.
Growing up as a human in Leeside was interesting, to say the least. While she’s heard the council has made great strides over the past few years to create stronger bonds between human and supernatural beings, it wasn’t always that way. Some previous council members were quite combative and didn’t think humans had a place in town. Thankfully, those members are no longer in power, and the community has been moving forward with greater inclusivity. From what her family has said, the annual community bonding event, Mixing Our Spirits, has been a great help. The council has strived to include human perspectives and considered them as they develop new initiatives to better the town. The way the human city council and the supernatural council have come together has been inspiring.
She loved living in Hollybrook and all the opportunities it gave her to pursue her dreams. However, even with Leeside’s challenges and growing pains, if she can’t be in Hollybrook, Eliana wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. The community is so tight-knit. Everyone knows everyone and, with it, all of their business. As annoying as it can be, it’s also comforting on some level.
Eliana checks the clock on the wall, noting she has a few extra minutes before her toddlers arrive. She opens the door to studio two, turns on the lights, and makes her way to the beam in front of one of the mirrors. Eliana starts by placing her hand on the bar, turning out her feet, and pushing down into a plié. She runs through a familiar series of movements, warming up her muscles, though they won’t be used enough with this little group of children to warrant it. When she’s done, feeling loose and ready, she brings herself to the corner of the studio and dances her way to the opposite corner, performing a series of jumps, turns, and extensions. While she was given the all clear for movement before she moved back home, the fear of going through that agony again keeps her from pushing herself too hard.
