Send me “Some Other You” for an AU version of my character
1960s dance academy student on scholarship in Britain.
Katerina was grateful for the fire; it made the ice cubes melt faster onto her skin. She’d made them with aspirin to rub on her sore legs after particularly brutal rehearsals, a trick she picked up god knows when. Maybe her mother had even taught it to her.
Her back rested on the side of an ottoman in front of the fireplace, and she tried not to think about the leading role in their upcoming annual performance. She’d have to fight tooth and nail for a chance at it, as if there wasn’t bias in the system already.
She was too tired to really worry, though. The other girls were either sleeping or studying, the latter something she should do but imagining anything besides crawling into bed was incomprehensible. Katerina waited for the fire to dry her shins of most of the water before heading up to her room.