Maleka slipped into the empty rehearsal room, clutching the pointe shoes she had taken from Anna's bag. She convinced herself that Anna didn’t deserve them—her ballet wasn’t refined, and she never truly owned the stage. As Maleka laced up the shoes, her movements were hasty yet filled with defiance. Just as she stood to test them, the door swung open, and Anna stormed in, her face red with fury. “What do you think you’re doing?” Anna demanded, her voice shaking with anger. Maleka met her glare, unflinching. “Trying on shoes that should’ve belonged to a real ballerina. You don’t even know how to use them properly.” Anna’s fists clenched. “Oh, really? You think you’re better? Watch this.” She raised her chin and began a precise demonstration of her pointe work, her feet moving effortlessly, showing undeniable skill. But before Anna could finish her next step, Maleka lunged forward, grabbing her leg mid-movement. “Let’s see how those feet hold up to this,” Maleka said with a mischievous grin as her fingers danced over Anna’s exposed sole. Anna’s protests turned to helpless laughter as Maleka tickled her. “Stop it!” Anna gasped between laughs, losing her balance. Seizing the moment, Maleka grabbed Anna’s other leg, doubling her efforts. Anna squirmed on the floor, tears forming in her eyes from laughing so hard. But Anna wasn’t going to surrender. She twisted free, grabbing Maleka’s leg in return. “You’re asking for it now!” she shouted, digging her fingers into Maleka’s foot. What followed was a chaotic, laughter-filled battle, the room echoing with giggles and shrieks. They rolled and grappled, tickling and teasing, neither willing to give up.
