The Danseur
A single light shone from above. A thick and focused beam of white that cut its way through the darkness. The velvet-red curtains were drawn to the side with ropes that were silky and the color of gold. At the center of it all stood a boy, engulfed in the light and surrounded by the darkness. A danseur. All his life, he had been mocked for trying to learn ballet. Teased that it was only meant for girls. Jeered at because ballet 'wasn't meant for men'. At first he gave in to the mockery; allowing himself to be overcome by societal judgement. But his inner voice, the passion, and the longing nagged at him each time and as time passed by, he could no longer stand it. He followed his heart and therefore his dreams. Here he was, on stage, performing for one of the largest crowds in the world; most people either there to witness the spectacle of a male ballet dancer, and the others to simply jeer or be amused. He had just ended his performance and he waited with bated breath. The seconds seemed to tick by forever as the audience remained silent. And then there it was; an applause so thunderous that the Earth seemed to shake. He then looked towards his teacher who smiled and turned to leave. His teacher too was a danseur and was the only one who believed in the boy when everyone else was trying to take him down. The boy broke into tears and said a silent prayer to the Lord. He had made his mark.
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