Chapter Text
Emma García, 20 years old at that moment, found herself flying in commercial class for a dream that almost sounded childish to her.
“Everyone around is moving on and I'm here instead, pursuing a wish I had when I was a kid”
Months before that…
She was sleeping, with the fan on and a foot outside of the blanket. A familiar silence filled the room as the fan stopped moving, leaving her with the insufferable heat of the night.
A drop of sweat falls down her torso, as she rolls her eyes, tossing in bed.
“Mhmhmh… “ (angry sobbing).
She sighed and glanced at the ceiling, thinking, that she didn't want to get out of bed
Probably Gilda’s mom would come to her room to ask her help to turn the generator on, Emma was well known for being very strong and handy anyway, so she could easily do it by herself. It's just that… that night she wasn't feeling it.
Gilda’s parents noticed she had been down since their daughter moved to the U.S. The two girls were as thick as thieves so it was natural for her to feel sad, but… that wasn't all of it.
She looks at her phone, 3:45 in the early morning, wondering how to kill the time. She scrolled down her old videos and photos, high school friends and other Crack-brained lazy whoez, everything down the “Freaks” category. She smiled with a bit of nostalgia and decided to tap her 16th birthday video.
The colors in the video are warm, as most of the lights are off and you can clearly see the brightness of the candles.
Three guys are carrying Emma in their arms, one by the legs and two by the torso and armpit as well (their names may not matter right now, but they are Nigel, Oliver, and Zack). In the video, her persona is looking at Gilda who's behind the camera. Emma's eyes are swollen from crying, but she smiles genuinely as they sing/scream the Venezuelan version of Happy Birthday. A longer song that Gilda hasn’t memorized yet, so what’s funnier is that you can hear her voice from behind, babbling the words.
She remembered that…that birthday was especially hard for her. Her friends understood it very well; from abusive homes, negligence, or literally having parents who left to buy cigarettes and never came back.
Emma missing her father was extremely natural.
They didn’t care if she was in her pijamas and didn't want to move out of bed, they wanted to make sure she understood she made it one year more.
And still, 4 years back in the present, she couldn’t comprehend what she “made”—keeping the hobby that got her dad into trouble and settling for a city that had nothing left for her other than memories.
Ironic for such an optimistic person to find herself crying over the feeling of being left behind.
She pulled her curly hair back and took a deep breath. Started knocking her forehead slowly as she repeated the same question.
“What did you want to be when you grow up?” “What did you want to be when you grow up?”
“What did you want to…”
“Breathe… “ She opened her eyes
“I wonder, what did he want to be”
She looked again at the broken screen of her cell phone, searching for a video she thought could give her the answer.
The title was “The gienger”. The video was filmed with a cellphone, inside what appeared to be a gymnastics room. The person filming walked towards a young man, practicing in the bar. He swung under the high bar and let go as his toes rose above it. Then he did a backward flip with a half turn, stretching his arms to re-catch the bar.
Un-successfully, he didn't get to the bar. He failed the catch and ended up with his face smacked by the sponge cubes.
He got slowly up and looking at the camera, he noticed he was being filmed.
“Don't make fun of me“ He said with a smile.
“I can't come here every time you decide to stay past 10 pm. “ Spoke the voice behind the camera in a sweet/sarcastic tone.
He stayed seated, looking directly at that person with a soft expression just as if he was being scolded.
“You have to work tomorrow, you know? Also, did you hit your head?“
“Oh? I think I did, actually. I lost count. “ he responded completely oblivious.
She skipped to minute 6:03. Now the picture is the same guy resting his back on a bed, while he sees his wounded palm
“You know, they hurt more when you notice you have them“
“Why have you been so hyper-focused with the gienger?”
“Right…you already noticed“ He sighed
“It's a skill I learned when I was seven,”
“I feel like… time is passing by and I'm already 19. The kid I was once is pushing me to be like him but… we are not the same person.
So many things have changed.
And I just want to prove that I'm more than capable of doing this. This is my own challenge, you know? I'm not competing with anyone other than myself."
Out of the screen.
A flash of light cast through the window shifting the colors inside Emma's eyes
Something in those last words clicked. She began to ask why did she practice gymnastics in the first place. Time before «that» happened, before things blurred her perception of dreams and goals. There was a sparkle inside of her shining every time she saw that gentleman perform.
The trust inside of curiosity, and confidence, only to be taken away from betrayal.
She couldn't help but have a strange feeling between happiness and rage, something that filled her with energy.
She looked in the darkness at the pictures on her walls. Not being able to find the girl she used to be.
And dealing with tiredness, she claimed to make a decision once and for all.
Cold footsteps
She dressed in an old loungewear and grabbed the ugly-patched backpack with the silly Keychain jingle.
After passing the bedroom door, she went for the car keys.
A mechanical sound could be heard in the distance, and seemingly after, it keeps the rhythm.
That’s the neighbor's electric plant.
With a swift, she turned the car on. Ready to go, she drove to the entrance, biting her lips while she waited for the guard to open the gate.
She noticed the man trying to see her face behind the glass, but luckily, with all the lights gone, it was almost impossible for him.
Out of the residential, she turned the lights on, seeming to see people walking in the street.
Due to the time, she wouldn’t find many cars on the road. Even so, driving inside a whole sector that's without power, sounded sort of unsettling.
She speeded up holding the wheel with determination. Couldn't help but clash with some bumps on her way, the streets were always like this, maybe getting worse. The chance of damaging the car was pretty high, and to make things worse, a car that wasn't hers at all.
Soon she sees light in the distance, smiling, she notices she has entered a sector with energy.
“Almost there”.
She drove another minute before getting into the avenue. Stopping by a rectangular building, with several trees and some words written in red.
Gimnasio cubierto Saurin Galué
She parked at the entrance and got out of the car to take a fine view of the fence.
It was over 10 ft tall, and chain-linked type. She rolled her neck and shoulders, warming her joints slightly, before climbing her way to the top.
With a natural movement, she jumped off and rolled on the dirt.
Mostly to stand up coughing a little for the powder. After that, she snorted and exhaled loudly, shaking the dust with her hands.
She walked to the side of the lot. From the back door, she glanced at the padlock pending. She had a copy of the key for herself, they mostly knew she used to sneak into that place often when she was a teenager.
The equipment was absolutely decrepit, they didn't have the budget to give them maintenance, and day by day It looked the way it did. Rusty.
She took her shoes off and got some music going with her phone. Walked making a big circle. looking up to warm her body enough for that high bar.
About to take a disproportionate measure.
She tied up her dirty hair and let go of the backpack. And all the things that kept her closure from trusting.
She closed her eyes trying to find the courage to confront her fear.
“The deadline is marked by the rise of the sun”
She wrapped the gloves she brought in her backpack, producing that characteristic sound of Velcro sticking and unsticking.
“Today” Tightly on her wrists.
Crushing the chalk and clapping it out in the air. “I’m proving my value as a gymnast”
With a few steps she clings to the high bar, grabbing tightly, as a silent world expectates.
Chapter 2: Misfit jump
Chapter Text
“Farewells break my head huh? I feel like every goodbye takes a piece of me with it."
“Who the hell am I supposed to be without all those parts?”
“Sis’ I surely need you, t o teach me how to walk with such a fractured heart.”
Two months after
Across the stage, the judges watched intently as Emma finished her routine. Months of grueling training culminated in those 80 seconds. Tears welled up, threatening to spill. She swallowed them down, along with the mistakes and missteps. Trembling with emotions.
Gilda looked from behind, softly and closely at Emma, who desperately tried to hold on to every muscle on her body as she maintained her hands together.
Judges talked to her and she nodded.
"Thanks for the opportunity." She said, bowing her head down.
Then she proceeded to walk out of the blue floor towards Gilda, who ran instantly to embrace her in a hug.
"You did great, dummy." Gilda assured.
Emma buried her face into Gilda's shoulder. It wasn't about the nameless audience; it was the overwhelming emotions of pouring her heart out in those fleeting moments. She needed some time to sit down and process.
"Have I told you how brave you are?"
"Don't say it like that, it's the minimum I can do." Emma smiled out of the blue.
"Sure, Miss. Potential. Don't act all tough about it" Gilda add
It was 7 pm and the temperature was over 12°C. Inside a Chick-fil-A, at the other side of the fogged window. Said girls took refuge from the cold.
"Gurl I'm not! my legs still tremble from that last jump, ugh... And the cold isn't helping either." Emma replayed just at the same time she munched her waffle fries.
Her position on the chair said "Manners who?" and that shit complemented her way of eating completely.
She was wearing sneakers, baggy jeans, a thick jacket, and at least 2 more layers of cloth on the top. Giving a comfortable but stylish look.
On the other hand, Gilda freshed more like a girly pop, a young woman slightly taller than Emma, with a bigger waist and bust, at least to say that Emma has more likely lemons and the catty cat had apples.
She wore a Bob haircut, in a deep green tone, highlighting her pale skin. Red lips coming from the cold weather and beautiful sharp fangs.
Gilda laughed as her earrings giggled "Don't worry, everything goes away with a hot shower"
"Actually that sounds awesome, my hair is so chalky right now" Emma responded as a light orange redhead, with curls that currently looked stiff as fuck.
«Once chalked, never unchalked»
Truths about being a gymnast, chalk gets everywhere, you just get used to that feeling.
Good enough for a clumsy “cheetah” like her.
"I'll admit, it was weird to see you jumping without your knee pad" Gilda added, at the same time she grabbed the straw of her drink.
Emma seemed unprepared for that comment, as she pulled her curls back.
"Ah... I just thought It wouldn't make a good impression, also you're not supposed to use knee pads in competitions, you know, unless something's wrong with your body" She said looking down at the little crumbs on her plate.
"What do you mean!?” Gilda exclaimed, "You always feel safer training with the kneepad." She said, looking ahead with a confused expression.
Emma reacted surprised, not being able to keep it cool. "Key, 'key! It's maybe a bit... embarrassing?"
"What exactly?" Gilda questioned as she stayed still, with one raised eyebrow.
“Mmm…” It appeared to be like Emma didn't want to talk about it, at least, she wasn't expecting to. She smiled awkwardly as she lay more on her chair.
Gilda straightened her round glasses and sighed "It's okay, you can tell me later" giving her a little space to breathe.
"And that's why you're my best friend!" She closed her eyes feeling relieved as Gilda chuckled.
She noticed the tiredness in Emma's eyes, while her ginger eyelashes tumbled down.
It has definitely been a tough day for her.
She's waiting, looking through the window, but to nothing totally specific.
Gilda exhaled, leaning back on her seat. "Ready to go home?"
Her cheetah ears tilted, getting her back to earth.
"Ah...yep!"
They put their feet in motion and exited the place, to get inside a rusty jeep.
The drops of cold water fell when she closed the door, and the freezeness got into her teeth.
The mist covers an entire city she does not yet know.
«I know I'm brave, but I would also be stupid if I wasn't afraid of failure» She thought to herself.
«Failure…»
Two months before
"Ah!... Hah...Fuck"
A sharp thud echoed in the emptiness of the gym. She found herself, and her unmatched claws, crawling out of the sponge pit after what appeared to be a nasty fall.
With her eyes looking down to the pavement, she felt something dripping out of her nose.
"What?" She reacted cluelessly. To drag the blood out of her mouth.
She sat and saw her hand.
"How...?" She spitted.
The sun timidly crept through the cracks in the windows, painting the mats and backrests with pale pink.
Dawn had arrived, devouring those last hours of the night.
"No, no, no, wait!" She stood up desperately, just to be knocked down again onto the concrete, all by the pain of her nose.
The high bar, once her ally, now stood as a cruel reminder of her failure.
Her breathing gets messy, as she can't keep the tears inside anymore.
Falling as a storm of frustration. She had failed to prove herself that she was good enough.
Just like that, her childhood dream of becoming a professional gymnast, all vanished into the mist of the dawn.
At that moment, between the echoes of sobbing, she pitched the vibration of her cell phone. She looked back at it, after a while of ringing.
"Snif..."
She saw the picture of her best friend on the incoming call. She was the only person who probably understood her without reservation. So Emma took the call.
She breathed deeply and laid her back on the ground with her arms open.
"HOLA???" Gilda exclaimed in the most informal way she could. "Where the heck are you?" She asked. "My parents are calling for you everywhere. Why didn't you pick up the phone?"
Emma stayed in silence, losing her vision on the ceiling, biting her lip and dealing with the sensation of tears falling.
"Emma? Are you okay?" Gilda asked by hearing no response. This time with a worried voice.
Emma took a big breath through her mouth to have enough air to answer the question. "No, I think I probably broke my nose."
"Wha- Why is that? Did you get in a fight or something?"
«Maybe, with myself» She thought silently.
"Emma?" Gilda insisted.
"I'm at the gym," she said finally. "I left home last night without telling your parents." Her voice started to crack with the sentence: "I wanted to... prove something to myself."
Stopping there for some extra seconds to swallow. "Sorry for taking your dad's car." She said.
An expectant silence settled on the other end of the line. Gilda could feel the anguish in her friend's voice, and couldn't help but get her heart filled with compassion.
"What have you been up to, Emma?" she asked softly.
«Sigh»
"You remember...de gienger? The backward flip with a half turn... The oldie but Goldy hah..."
"A difficult turn."
"I couldn't sleep and I thought about... some things, I'm not even sure now. I thought that...I would be able to regain my self-trust if I was able to do that badass skill. But... I made a challenge to myself, and I failed."
She tried to contain her tears as much as she could, even cracking her voice open.
"I think...I'm not good enough for this anymore."
She pressed her mouth and a light silence placed on the line.
—"Excuse me, are you dumb?"
Gilda exclaimed, breaking the silence with a tone of anger that surprised Emma. "When did you think it was a good idea to test yourself like that? And why do it alone, with no one to spot you?"
Gilda's words, though harsh, were a balm made of facts for Emma's wounded soul. How else would she have said it? Her friend's reprimand woke her up from her self-imposed torture.
"I'm sorry! Okay?" Emma sobbed. "I don't know what happened to me. I just... I'm. Tired. of this feeling. I'm NOT enough! for this… And maybe that's why... That's why..." She grabbed her head covering her crying eyes.
Making her voice distant from the call.
Gilda frowned her eyebrows, her anger had turned into a deep sadness after hearing her friend likely having a crisis.
"I need you to listen for a moment." She asked, as Emma thoughtfully caught the air. "What happened today... What happened with your dad- Whatever you're into right now. It doesn't define you."
"You are the strongest, most dedicated woman I know." "Your vulnerability is beauty, and it's a space to grow, right now."
A comforting silence took over the conversation. Emma clung to Gilda's words for a moment, finding a piece of tranquility within them.
Leaning her to be at least a bit unsure about what to think of herself.
"You know what? Fuck it, I'll buy you a ticket to Oklahoma." Gilda said, breaking that space of doubt.
Emma reacted but spoke no words.
"We'll find a way for you to get a scholarship" Gilda continued. "I will help you prepare. And if we don't make it this year, we'll try again next year."
«I want to...» Emma thought.
"Even if you change your mind, we can find something different together."
«I want to try....» She definitely.
Emma's tears were followed by a warm smile.
At that moment, she realized that her inner strength did not lie in something as thin as a medal. For this time, it was within friendship, in the unwavering trust that only someone like Gilda could offer her.
"You're right. Sniff Ah... I'm clowning around just by pretending I can do this alone" She said
"You surely are," Gilda replied with a smile in her voice. "Go get your nose checked before it gets worse. I don't wanna see my roomie having the face of an 8 yo drawing."
Emma chuckled, "You have no idea."
Uncertainty and fear still lingered, but now they were mixed with a renewed determination.
That moment of failure had given her the strength she needed to move on, to fight for her future, and above all: To show herself, she won't let her fears tame her.
She wasn't alone after all…