Her time had finally come – a brilliant ballet dancer, ballerina, whichever they might like to call her – and now she was finally ready, prepared to blow this particular industry wide open Hard knocks to the last but she’d always had it inside of her that thing that matters most, a terribly undiluted taste Soon to become the toast of her backward hometown, a middle finger directed toward all of those haters, tirelessly, haphazardly uneducated clowns, she getting to stride all too beautifully on out of their lives – lacklustre and uncreative This was it, her absolute time to shine, like never before, crumpled, bruised and agonisingly sore feet which, in the end, will turn out to be well worth it