Helldancer

“I win. I always win. Someday I won’t, but until then I won’t worry about it.” How stupid can I be!

“I hope this partner will last. At least surviving for a while would be good. So few of them can keep up with me. I guess that’s to be expected.”

They’re calling our number. Show time, let’s put on the smile, put on the swagger, and give them what they came here to see. We take each others hand, and our hands go up in the air as we walk out to the dance floor. The smile goes on my face, but Michael, my partner has a very pained look with his smile. I know dancing with me is not the easiest decision he’s made. But when you dance with the devil’s daughter what do you expect?

And I am the devil’s daughter.

I made a deal with the devil, and now he owns me.

Silly me. All I wanted to do was dance, so I sold my soul to be the best. I know that’s what I got, but there are, well lets call them side effects I hadn’t considered or counted on. One is how many partners I would injure, hurt, wear out, or leave in my dust. But without a partner, I can’t  compete. So I need a partner. And poor Michael is my fourth partner in the past two years. And that’s not counting the ones that haven’t made it to the competition floor with me. And I don’t know how much longer poor Michael can last.

I can spin, I can dance, I can move. I’m quick, I’m fast, I know it, and I love what I do. That shows in every move I make and the smile on my face. I can’t help but love what I do. And even if I don’t love it, it doesn’t matter. I made a deal with the devil, my ability to dance for my soul. I have to dance. And I have to win. If I don’t, let’s just say the consequences are fatal.

We dance. First a rumba. Our moves are magical. You can feel the connection, the magic between us, its like sparks. That magic is there with all my partners, but it needs to be there. And all my previous partners seemed to feel that magic. I guess that makes me lucky. But they did want to dance with me, at least at first. But its tough to keep up dancing with the devil’s daughter. I can’t share my abilities with my partners. They have to do their best to keep up with me. So now they just dance with me, doing their best, but somehow it seems like they are waiting for something to happen. Something awful to happen.

Can’t say I blame them. I’d worry if I were them too.

And they’re right, something awful is likely to happen, and I’m the reason for it. Being the devil’s daughter has its drawbacks. But they do want to dance with me, I’m always getting someone asking to be my new partner. Dancing with me gives my partner some significant advantages. They learn moves, they get the financial backing most of them have never dreamed of, and they win. Their standing in this community soars as long as they can survive dancing with me.

But how long they can survive me remains the question.

Michael and I dance the next dance, and the next, and the next. We dance beautifully. The crowd is alive watching what we do. And so are we. Michael is doing so well. He can keep up with me today. We’re on fire. Its like we’ve both made pacts with the devil we dance so well together. And maybe we have. Maybe this is his chance to be the dancer he wants to be. Has Michael made his own deal with the devil? Our dancing today is so magical.

We dance, we smile, we bow, we give the crowd our love and they return it. They show us the love and admiration we so desire. We crave. Its attention we need just for our survival. This, this is why I dance. This is why any of us dance.

I don’t even see the other dancers on the floor as we walk off. Now’s the time to relax, think of how we danced, think what we’ll do next. Now you rejoice in everything we felt while we danced.

But this time it felt different. Something has changed. The pained, strained, worried, fearful look on Michael’s face is gone. And not only that, he’s danced with me, like he’s never danced with anyone before. He kept up, he held up his end of the dance. Everything came together as never before. We were the dancers of the day. Our victory today is complete.

“I’m worried. Deep in my soul I feel like something is wrong. Not just as if he made a deal with my boss too, but as if it will fall apart – quickly, painfully, and fatally. Does he know what happens if I don’t win? Does he have the same deal I have? If so, a loss means his death too. Doesn’t he realize this? Are we tied together by the devil? Or has he made other plans? With whom? Has someone else made a deal with the devil, ready to take my place? Has Michael made a deal to replace me? Oh my God, what’s happening?”

Michael smiles as he surveys the crowd and the other dancers. He doesn’t seem to stay on anyone in particular. But its all too easy, too simple, …too wrong. I can feel it deep inside me.

I’m a dead woman walking. I can feel it. How much time do I have? Who else has made this deal? Is there no way out for me? Could I find another partner even now? Maybe there’s a way out? What if I get hurt – a car accident, a broken leg. Would such a problem even be possible? Would the devil let that happen or would he make me come out unscathed? His own little warped joke – dance and win, or die.

We win the competition as I expect us to. But for how much longer? As long as we win, I’ve alive, at least for now.

I’ve been dancing with Michael now for a while, competing for just over 6 months. He’s healthy, he’s unhurt, and for now, he’ll stay and dance with me, so he says. At least for another competition, but I don’t know how much longer he will stay. He can leave, and I’ll survive as long as I find another partner.

But what if someone else has made his own deal with my boss. If someone else wins and we lose, I die. But if Michael’s made a deal with the devil, I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what his deal is and what a loss for him would be. Does he want to just win his competitions at any cost? Or has he made some other deal? Does he already have a new partner in mind?

I just can’t shake this feeling of dread.

Our night of dance has passed. We’ve finished our night. All our events are done for the night. All the guests are leaving, going to their own homes for the night. Michael doesn’t stay to talk to me. He’s cool toward me, he just leaves with a short goodbye. He goes to his room alone, at least I think he does. I don’t want to know if that’s not what happens.

I want to believe that everything will be okay. I wish I could believe that. But I’m not sure I do.

My sleep is fitful that night. And the next, and the next.

And Michael’s not talking to me.

I don’t know what is going on. Is Michael coming back to dance with me? Do I need to look for a new partner? He’s not taking my calls. He hasn’t show up to practice. I don’t know where he is.

Michael has sent me a note about our next competition. He’s not dancing with me. He’s not dancing he with me ever again. He’s found himself a new partner. He’s dancing with Andrea. Our last competition was less than two months ago. And yet Michael is already planning on dancing, on competing with Andrea in less than three weeks.

With no partner for this competition, I begin my search for a new partner.

But I have to know who Michael is dancing with. Its not curiosity, I feel driven to know. I’m not sure who Andrea is. She’s been on the circuit, but not for long. I don’t think she’s danced competitively for a year. She’s still so new, so young, so hopeful. Does she even know what she’s getting into? She so wants to dance. I can see it in her face – the desire, the hope, the dreams, the yearning. What will she get, and at what cost. Its not my problem, its not my worry. At least that’s what I tell myself.

I have no partner, I can’t compete without one. But where to find one. And if I don’t dance, if I don’t compete, then what happens to me. My deal with the devil will let me dance and win, and let me live. If I don’t win, I don’t live. But what if I don’t compete? Then what? I don’t win, but I don’t lose – do I get to live?

I go to Michael and Adrea’s first competition, just as a spectator. I’m still in search of a partner. Everyone knows I’m not with Michael anymore. They’re so nice about it, but I feel like an outsider, like a stranger, like a pariah. I want to run and hide, but I can’t. I’m here now, and I’m too proud to run no matter how wounded I feel. I hold my head up high, smile at my friends, the people I’ve noticed and that have noticed me. I talk to those that will talk with me. But some shun me, its like I’m not even there.

I take a seat at a table. I watch the dancers, I clap for them, yell their numbers, show my support for them in all the ways I would want. I’ve been in their shoes and I know what they feel. I’m not sure if I feel sorry for them, or if I wish that were me up there. But its bittersweet being here just watching. But at the same time it feels almost calming to sit and watch.

Michael and Andrea dance well. He dances so much better than she does. She needs work. They don’t take first, but they show promise.
It feels strange being on the other side, so to speak. Its hard to realize I’ve only been competing for a couple of years. Its only been that long since I made my pact with the devil.

It seemed so innocent at first. I had danced for fun, socially. And then I decided to compete. At my first competition I was hooked. I wanted this. It felt great, no matter how I placed. And that was true as I learned the craft and kept on competing. I worked with new instructors, moved my way up the levels. And I loved it. It became a burning desire for me.

But then it changed. Beating the other dancers gave me a high I didn’t know I had in me. I didn’t feel unhappy to beat them, I knew that I had earned my place. Quite the opposite, I felt I deserved to beat them. And once I had reached the best I could as an amateur, I wanted to go higher. I wanted to go pro. I wanted to be looked up to as a professional.

That was my undoing, my vanity and pride. As an amateur I was great. As a pro I wasn’t. The level of dancing was so much higher. I fell apart. I didn’t know what it would take to get what I wanted. I would do anything to reach that acclaim, that place in the ballroom dance world.

What had I become?

What was I willing to do to get what I wanted?  When I began I was a good beginner professional dancer, nothing special, sometimes I couldn’t even make the cut. They laughed at me, at my partners, at my costumes, and at how I looked on the floor, at the mistakes I made. They laughed behind our backs. So, I made a pact with the devil. But at the end of that month, my life was changed. I was suddenly everything I could ask for as a professional dancer. And everyone who saw me knew I was a pro, a real professional dancer. I belonged. The clothes, the partners, the dancing, the routines, everything about me said this is where I belong.

And all it took was a deal with the devil. And I became a helldancer.

And now as I watch I know my time was up. It was over. Michael let me sit this one out, he let me know I had lost. It was all over. And so was I.

I didn’t have to dance and lose.

This time I just lost.