The Blue Butterfly Pt. 3

Hey guys, Read Part 1 and Part 2 of the Blue Butterfly.
She was 17 when it happened; when he came the first time. She saw him from across the street, as he looked up at the studio from his fancy car. She wasn’t in the mood for chatting with visitors today… especially rich guys in their dad’s flashy cars, so she used the back entrance to the studio and changed quickly in the dressing room hoping that if Miss Maria came to meet her stretching and warming up she wouldn’t pick her to be tour guide for the day. She was lucky. She wasn’t picked to be tour guide. Miss Maria gave the tour herself which was weird but Elise didn’t really care. She was trying to learn a new dance routine and it didn’t involve ass-kissing. He came back the next week and walked into the studio like he owned it. Elise and Marc were dancing then, Marc had lifted her up, and was spinning her above his head and when he dropped her, she landed squarely in front of the stranger. He smiled at her and she smiled back before turning back to Marc.

She didn’t act like it but at that moment if Marc hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen. Her feet couldn’t hold her up. The stranger’s smile had changed her life, and it was just the beginning.

Three days later, she saw him on her way to the studio with Louisa. He was sitting in Miss Maria’s office and Louisa remarked that she had seen him there the day before too “sitting behind Miss Maria’s desk! Can you imagine the impudence?!!” but really Elise didn’t care. He was just another guy.
An extremely handsome guy, yes. A guy who made her heart skip a beat, yes. But still, a guy. She had too much to think about.
Her mother was sick as usual and there had been no money for a while. Elise had been working after dance class and on her off days to pay the rent but she was getting exhausted easily and it was taking a toll on her. She couldn’t go to school, dance and work at the same time. Something would have to go. If only she could get her mother well enough to work. Everything would be all right.

That evening, on her way home from work, she bumped into him in front of the café by her apartment block. He was with a young woman and he stopped when he saw her and smiled warmly. Elise smiled back at him and he introduced her to the woman as his friend, Joan and Elise saw her smile tighten as he said ‘friend’ and took note. There was history there. He hid it well but poor Joan was obviously not past it; whatever it was. And that night, as she prepared for bed, Elise thought about how handsome guys like him were always oblivious of the attention women gave them. If I was beautiful like her, Elise thought, I would look for a guy slightly less handsome so he would worship me. He must know he doesn’t deserve me. And even though her chest hurt with the memory of his hand around Joan’s waist, Elise was determined not to let any man near her heart. After all, love was a conscious decision. Wasn’t it?



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