The Ballet Prodigy's Weight Curse
1.1k Views · Ongoing · Liora
I used to be a national gold medalist in ballet.
Now I’m the 210-pound laughingstock the whole school gawks at.
I starve myself till I pass out, train so hard my knees bleed, and still the weight keeps piling on like it’s got a personal grudge.
Till the day I hear my best friend cackling in the equipment room, voice shaking with laughter:
“No matter how hard she tries, her weight will always be three-quarters of Bruce’s!”
Bruce is the 280-pound deadbeat loser who sleeps through half his classes. And me? I’m stuck to him, tied by some sick system I can’t break.
She stole my Juilliard audition direct pass. Paid guys to shove me, call me names, film me tripping over my own feet and post the clips all over TikTok.
She watches me flounder like a beached whale in the mud, barely holding back her snickers.
But she forgot one thing: mountains don’t run from streams.
They wait for the water to crash into them. And shatter into a million pieces.
Guess what? The bet’s on.
Now I’m the 210-pound laughingstock the whole school gawks at.
I starve myself till I pass out, train so hard my knees bleed, and still the weight keeps piling on like it’s got a personal grudge.
Till the day I hear my best friend cackling in the equipment room, voice shaking with laughter:
“No matter how hard she tries, her weight will always be three-quarters of Bruce’s!”
Bruce is the 280-pound deadbeat loser who sleeps through half his classes. And me? I’m stuck to him, tied by some sick system I can’t break.
She stole my Juilliard audition direct pass. Paid guys to shove me, call me names, film me tripping over my own feet and post the clips all over TikTok.
She watches me flounder like a beached whale in the mud, barely holding back her snickers.
But she forgot one thing: mountains don’t run from streams.
They wait for the water to crash into them. And shatter into a million pieces.
Guess what? The bet’s on.



































