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At the dance school named after its owner, “Violet’s Swans',” young dancers could learn ballet, tap, hip hop, gymnastics, and other physical arts of the industry.
Most of the students only attend a year or two, but some very dedicated youths appeared every year, and made their debuts upon the stage. But then, less than one percent of the most devoted, ever go forward with dancing as a profession.
However, the skills taught in the little school, which was once a residence, now a transformed studio, provide discipline and physical stamina, so parents continue bringing their children here, as an after-school activity.
A group of twelve pupils, ranging in the ages of ten- to eleven-year-old hopeful ballerinas', just left, and the business was closing for the day!
Violet Sherman-Wertheimer was the thirty-seven-year-old business owner of the renowned establishment and the last to leave the empty building. It was the standard evening for the woman, as she went through each room, put a few random things away, dust mop the floors', and would soon be retiring home for the night!
Along the wall in the woman’s office, were photographs of Violet Swans’ most successful graduates.
Blyss Weinstein was only twelve when she landed the role as Claudia, in the Ballet rendition of “Interview with a Vampire.”
Leticia Rodriguez-Jackson was sixteen, when she starred in the lead female role of the big hit movie, “Basketball the Musical.”
Lei Wong, now twenty-two, has played the lead in “Mulan,” several times on Broadway, and has a contract with Disney.
Violet herself had a rather prosperous career in show business as a dancer, with many fond memories.
Although the Hollywood calls have become fewer and farther between these days, but this was expected, as the dancer aged. Thankfully the performer prepared for this change in her life.
As a dancer, Violet was never a major celebrity, but she did a lot of background dancing and choreography, for those who have such renown.
Over a span for a little more than fifteen years, this woman had been in movies, music videos, and even reward shows, including the Oscar’s.
Her experience had brought this lady some notoriety from large names of the industry. Several well-known singers, (many of them rappers) were acquainted, and a handful even close friends. In fact, a number of her students were their children.
As the performer matured, she found herself being called on more as a choreographer, than as a dancer. So wisely the woman put her skills and connections to good use, by creating this school.
Performance work has always favored the younger, so Violet knew she needed something to do when she reached thirty years of age.
The then twenty-seven-year-old entertainer had many fond memories of learning her craft as a young student. Dance school was a second home, and her instructors were like family.
So, in the spirit of looking into the future, Violet decided to go the teaching route, as the art form moves on to the next generation.
Thankfully the dancer reached her success before the age of twenty-five and developed the connections to ensure her security later on in life. She acquired herself a nice little nest egg, along with a partner capable of supporting her entire family, if the lovely woman so wished.
However, that wasn’t what the girl from Maine desired, as Violet made herself a studious businesswoman, as well as a teacher of small children, which was no easy feat.
Yes, this woman from a middle-class background, overcame a lot, and excelled higher in her career than her parents, siblings and cousins. Now it had been just another normal day, and it was over. Her husband Clark picked up the boys from their after-school activities, and probably had dinner being prepared by now.
Ready to leave for the night, Violet locked up her school.
As she was exiting the old house for her vehicle, she saw a black car in her parking lot, for the single business. Then the window in the back rolled down revealing the face of an old celebrity friend.
Paul McCartney graced her with his presence, again! Immediately the door swung open, and the eighty-four-year-old man leapt out and gave the young woman a hug.
He could be her grandfather, with the age gap between them, and in a way, he was kind of like that to this woman.
Hell, this man introduced her to her now husband, Clark Wertheimer. A young financial lawyer, that began his career with the same firm that represented Sir James Paul McCartney, in the United States.
It was a perfect match, and both younger people have never been happier.
“It’s good to see you.” The British voice proclaimed, as he graced Violet with a light peck on the cheek.
“It’s good to see you too.” The American replied, in utter surprise. But this man always showed up unannounced. He would sometimes visit Violet, the young woman he and Ringo Starr had been trapped in an elevator with, many years ago, at a set she was performing.
In fact, this very gentleman surprised her back stage, after the young dancer’s first major live performance, when she danced rather erotically for Beyoncé, during the MTV music awards.
The entire experience was wild enough, being new to the industry, but then the former Beatle completely surprised her, when he seemed to have suddenly appeared with his wife Nancy, and they brought the new dancer a beautiful bouquet of roses.
These meetings usually end up with a meal. Sometimes coffee, or lunch. Once he brought her out for ice cream, and it was just a sweet moment between the pair.
“Do you think I can steal you away for dinner?” the man asked, and naturally Violet smiled.
“Of course.” The woman responded automatically. She would just message Clark, who would only regret he wasn’t there to come as well.
The couple would like to think they were friends of the McCartney’s, as well as the Starkey’s.
Taking the British Knight’s hand, Violet was seated in the backseat of the car, besides her host.
“Are you still not a strict vegetarian?” the prestigious man asked.
“No.” Violet admitted. “But Clark and I have cut back our meat intake.” She promised.
The man just smiled despite his expected disappointment. He gave not a completely thrilled expression, but appeared he appreciated the woman’s efforts to please him.
“Well, that’s a good step in the right direction.” The elder replied in his soft voice. “With some people it takes baby steps.” He further added.
“How is Nancy?” the woman inquired of this man’s spouse, as a convenient way to change the subject.
“She’s well.” Paul answered immediately. “Nan is with her son tonight. I figured since I have a little free time here in California, I might as well check on you.” He continued sweetly. “How’s Clark?” the man who brought the married couple together, made his inquiry about the bridegroom of the middle-class husband and wife.
“He’s doing great.” The wife of twelve years boasted.
“He still has his own firm?” McCartney then asked.
“Yes, and they’re doing well.” Violet announced. “They’ve acquired some high-end accounts and are talking about expanding to New York.”
“That’s good to hear.” The man said with a smile. “How are the boys?” The grandfatherly figure asked of this woman’s children.
“They’re doing great!” the mother proudly informed her companion. “Dustin is ten and has been in Little League baseball for four years now. Michael is eight and is taking Jiu Jitsu this year.”
“God, the last time I saw the boys was when we ran into each other at the airport.” Paul recalled.
“Yeah, we were returning from Disney World in Florida, and you were on your way home to England.” The lady reminisced.
“They were both in that buggy you had for two.” He noted. Then the man was quiet, as he gazed out the window. “Time never stands still.” The eighty-four-year-old remarked, as the car pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.
Quietly, the pair exited the car, and entered the establishment.
Naturally the man and woman were seated together and sat across from one another in a booth. The odd couple were given a menu by the host, but Violet already knew better.
“The spinach quiche here is to die for.” The famous musician brought up. And that’s what Violet knew she was eating.
“Sounds great.” The woman replied while instinctively closing her menu.
Due to their dietary differences between the companions, the dancer always let this man pick out her food, whenever they ate together. The meal always ended up being a delicious delight, but the former Beatle could never convince this omnivore to give up meat altogether.
“My doctor wants me to watch my cholesterol.” The British voice mentioned. “So, I’ll have to vicariously enjoy it through you.”
Then a waitress came over with her little computer tablet, ready to take their request.
In a chivalrous manner, Paul instinctively ordered for both parties.
“My lady friend will have the vegetarian spinach quiche dinner.” The gentleman began the order. “As a side, give her the small garden salad, make sure there is no meat.” He strongly ordered. Then gazing over the menu, the man gave instructions for his own meal.
“I’ll have the large garden salad, with vinegar and oil on the side.” He explained. “Heavy on the croutons.” The English accent concluded, as he gave both books to the server.
Once the waitress left, Violet began stirring her lemon wedge in her water, as she waited for the renowned gentleman to speak first.
“It’s hard to believe it’s been fifteen years since we first met.” The former Beatle acknowledged, after gazing around the large business, as if making sure he wasn’t drawing any attention.
Everyone except for the Beatle inside the restaurant appeared to be under sixty, and no one seemed to notice the old man sitting across from someone who could easily be his granddaughter.
“Oh my god I know.” Violet agreed. “I was only twenty-two when I got trapped in that elevator with you and Rich.” The woman recalled.
Back in 2012, the two remaining Beatles were in an elevator at their hotel, when Violet innocently joined the pair, from a different floor. Then suddenly the lifting room came to a standstill, and the three ended up spending the night in the tiny mobile space.
Paul, and his former bandmate Ringo Starr were secretly terrified this unknown woman would end up being a mad fan.
“So much has changed.” The dancer agreed with the musician.
“Yeah, it has.” McCartney followed in his soft tone, as he took a sip of his water, and stared out throughout the restaurant, with an aimless gaze upon his face. “I have seen the world change many times over.” He mentioned with a hint of melancholy in his tone.
“My children couldn’t imagine life before television,” the white-haired man further stated his point. “And my grandchildren don’t know anything about life before mobile phones.” The one born in the 1940s bitterly acknowledged about the current time.
“If you go far enough back, we can talk about how we all grew up with the wheel.” The young person lightly remarked, causing Paul to come out of a hypnotic state, and look at her.
“True.” The British Knight acknowledged.
“Come to think on it,” Paul suddenly remembered “my mother’s father never did care for radio much.” He admitted. “He felt music should be done socially at the pub, or at church.”
“That is an interesting perspective.” Missus Wertheimer observed of the man’s story. “Back then if you wanted to listen to music, you had to play an instrument yourself.”
“Or knew someone who did.” Paul agreed, as their meals arrived.
“Well, maybe he had a point.” The woman spoke up, as she examined her dinner.
The musician was right, the quiche looked delectable, and smelt divine. Upon tasting the dish, the woman made sure to smile, and gaze appreciatively upon her kind host.
Her gesture was appreciated, and the musician smiled back, poking at his salad.
“I told you,” the elder spoke up, “you’d like it.”
“And like always, you were right.” His female companion responded in her usual manner, taking another piece of her fancy omelet.
“I’m glad you can enjoy it.” Sir McCartney replied, taking a bite of his salad. “My diet is becoming plainer every day.” The foreign accent stated with a sigh.
“Everything changes as you grow older. From what you can eat, to even what you want to eat. Things begin to taste and smell different.” Then wiping his face, the famous man gazed around the restaurant, along with its staff and patrons.
The entire dining hall they were in had people of all ages, which was normal sixty years ago as well. However, what was glaringly different, was every soul in sight was staring at their digital devices.
Phones, watches, tablets, and every other gadget imaginable, were all within everyone’s reach. People were sitting together, but with their blank eyes fixated upon the glowing screens. Even the staff would sneak a peek at their phones during a slow point in the business.
What was truly sad for the aged gentleman, was seeing a baby in a highchair devotedly playing on a tablet, as his parents were busy on their smartphones.
“No one talks to anyone, anymore.” The wise man noted. “Everybody is on their phone, and nobody really connects.”
Violet had something to say, but then the memory of being trapped in the elevator, with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr all those many years ago, flashed in her mind.
She could remember the scent of the carpeting, and these men’s cologne, as vividly as when the very memory occurred.
This was not a pleasant, planned meet up, which these men had their people in control of the situation. In the rare case, the wealthy musicians were off guard and unprotected.
Violet was a stranger and gave no hint she knew who they were.
The two Britains’ even wondered if this woman feared them as unknown men.
Trapped in the confined space for more than twelve hours, circumstances forced each of their hands. None of these modern peoples' phones worked, and the trio had to put aside the fear of the unknown to survive the night.
“I guess the more connected we become with the world,” The millennial began, “the less connected we become with the person sitting across from us.” She observed.
“I remember people would read magazines and play cards to kill time.” The musician noted.
“And you could always pull out an instrument to play.” The dancer added of the former Beatles statement. In which the Britain smiled.
“We used to do that all the time.” Paul admitted. “I still do.” He sweetly added. “It’s not as common as it used to be.”
“Most of the time when I listen to music,” Violet spoke up. “I’m alone. Usually in my car.” She admitted, lamenting how truly sad that was.
“You don’t play an instrument?” McCartney inquired.
“No, I don’t.” she answered, rather ashamed of herself. “I was too hyperactive to sit still to learn.” The woman confessed.
“Which is why you’re a good dancer.” The man told her forwardly. “I’ve seen your performances, and watched your body completely become part of the music itself.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” The younger of the pair noted, remembering her finest manners when in this gentleman’s company.
“Your art was also a social activity,” he continued.
“Well, that makes sense,” Violet added. “You usually need at least somebody to play an instrument for any music. Now I can turn on any song I need for my classes.”
“Your classes would have just been visits to the pub and mimicking your elders.” The British accent rang.
“True.” The teacher of children of all ages agreed. “My business is based heavy on my access to music.” Violet admitted, as she began to think about her teaching predecessors.
While this 21st century woman had in her computer files, thousands of songs, where her old dance instructors often relied on CDs for their classes.
However, Miss Brewer, Violet’s old jazz teacher strictly used cassette tapes, and was devoted to 1980s music. Meanwhile Mrs. Keller, an old ballet teacher insisted on records for every classical song she played.
“The music is better.” The white-haired old woman explained, and Violet couldn’t deny, she was right.
“Yes, but the access to different music is rather nice,” The younger person at the table stated, lost in her own thoughts this time.
“But you’re also right, the social involvement of music is more of a novelty now days,” she then admitted. “I wish I could have been around back then, just to see people pulling out random instruments and having a grand old time.”
“Oh, you would have had a glorious time.” Paul promised. “Although, you probably would have to deal with George making a move on you. He had a thing for dancers.” The former Beatle added with a smile, thinking about his departed friend and former bandmate George Harrison.
This caused both parties at the table to laugh.
“Well, I’m flattered.” Violet giggled, turning a little red.
“Oh, you would have been pretty enough to be brought into one of our jam sessions.” The 1960s musician stated honestly. “Some fellow might have approached you on the street and asked you if you wanted to come jam with the Beatles.” McCartney then took a sip of his water, continuing his thought. “Very few girls would have said no. I think you would have had a great time.” He finished, becoming lost in his old memories, again.
“Well now all you hear about with famous people these days,” the woman’s voice suddenly spoke up, “is all the underage children they hurt.”
“Yes, well trust me, those monsters existed back then too.” The British Knight acknowledged. “But me and me mates, would never do such things. My old band might have done our share of bad behavior, but we never forced ourselves onto anyone, especially children.”
“That’s good.” Violet agreed.
“There were too many beautiful lasses always willing to go with any of us.” The older man stated lost in thought of the random women he had over the years.
The numbers of female lovers were well into the hundreds. Many of these stunning ladies were now just a blur in his mind, most completely forgotten. However, a few exceptions stood out, and some returned as pleasant memories, and even some that made him feel regretful.
Especially after he became a father of four beautiful daughters. Now, in his later years, Paul McCartney had a very different opinion of his younger self back then.
In fact, as a loving father, Paul advised all of his girls to stay away from such lads who were like him back in his youth. At least until they mature into who he is now. Which for Paul was nearly thirty!
Meanwhile, as the man who was a sex icon in the 1960s, was currently staring at a lovely young lass, he and his mates would have at first become friendly with, until she gave it up, or labelled a lost cause, and dismissed, along with the girls who did pleasure them.
The band was guilty of treating the underprivileged girls like toys. Very quickly the rejected girls would learn, the welcome into the circle of friends was only temporary for such women of their status. Their looks and personality would never be enough.
Ladies like Violet who weren’t connected were easy to use and tossed aside afterwards. All of them adored the flattery, most took the cut off hard, and the few that handled it more maturely were treated no differently.
The Beatles didn’t really bother getting to know people who didn’t have something to offer them in return. Which the older man learned was a great loss to him and his former colleagues.
True, most people in a lower class status weren’t very interesting or deemed important, but then people like Violet were often the precious diamond that slipped from their grasp.
She didn’t really give this man much at all. In fact, it was the wealthy man who found himself being rather generous towards her. Well, not generous in the manner that this prestigious figure would deem so, but his little tiny gestures were more appreciated by this middle-class woman, then that of his own family.
Although McCartney couldn’t blame his descendants, his children and grandchildren knew no other such life than the luxurious one he provided for them. Paul couldn’t deny that all of his younger family members, at some point took for granted the life of privilege, but it was because it was all they knew.
Yet Violet wasn’t here because of what he had given to her.
Arranging that audition, which the young dancer passed with flying colors and her career took off from that moment on, was a five-minute phone call to a studio that was flattered just to hear his voice.
Matching this young woman with Clark Wertheimer, who wasn’t just a nice and good-looking young man, but could support her if and when her career in show business fizzled.
The father in him was quietly proud of the maturing millennial, when the famous Beatle learned she opened her school just before turning thirty. Even with a husband who could support her, this young woman adapted to her circumstances and flourished on her own.
A fatherly pride did take hold of him, despite he wasn’t the man who raised this woman, or did more than the small amount he had done. Yet Paul couldn’t help himself from enjoying this lady's life from afar.
He watched this girl go from an exotic dancer at bachelor parties, to a professional performer doing music videos, movies, and now an owner of her own business!
The British Knight kissed her as a bride on her wedding day, and even held each of her two children when the boys were small. The famous former Beatle even allowed each moment to be immortalized in a picture.
Yet Violet treated him and Ringo Starr as two old friends. There was a coziness the Britain felt with this woman, as in many respects, he could relax around her like no other.
This relationship was a welcomed connection for the man from Liverpool. He had not had such a simple friendship in a long time with another woman like Violet. Not since their manager Brian Epstein came into the band's life.
The upper-class businessman highly advised distancing themselves from the lower classes. Especially the girls.
John Lennon and Ringo Starr were already tied down with a middle-class bride. John was quickly married upon reaching fame, and Ringo was in love with the younger girl who had a crush on him all the way back in the days of the old Cavern.
However, George bagged himself a model, and Paul had the privilege to be with Jane Asher, a famous British actress, from an old prestigious family.
Unfortunately, McCartney underestimated a woman from such a rank, and soon discovered, his little antics he had gotten away with from the girls in the middle class, whose tolerance seem to know no bounds, to people in a social and financial status greater than him.
The Asher’s knew they could always do better, and Jane was no exception!
The young Paul was flabbergasted to discover that the prepossessing Jane had the courage to leave the famous man, because she didn’t need him.
She was already a well-renown celebrity before the Beatles were formed. Her family was old and wealthy, and McCartney discovered he could indeed lose.
And lose he did.
And, what a loss!
This bold move from the scarlet queen, who was strong enough to publicly break up an engagement with him, actually forced the man to mature.
The cute Beatle had never been dumped before, and discovered how awful that receiving end truly was.
And with Jane’s influence even greater than his own, the round face Adonis shared the same tears he caused many of those girls to cry. He was now demoted to just a fan, and an old acquaintance from such a figure.
Paul eventually married the American woman Linda Eastman, from a wealthy family.
Despite the relationship with Jane ending badly for him, McCartney didn’t hesitate to use the skills and vocabulary he learned from the Asher family and applied it to the new family he was seeking to woo.
Being a man of renowned notoriety, Paul found a girl from an influential family, but not a famous one. Subconsciously he guarded himself from ever being broken off like that again. He was the catch, but carefully the musician learned not to let that go too far and made sure not to push his new woman away, like the one before.
Being Paul McCartney used to give him a lot of leeway, but wanting a serious relationship forced the Beatle to change his priorities, as well as his behavior.
No more side girls, no more wild parties, and finally getting to know a woman, rather than possessing her.
In fact, by the age of forty, McCartney realized he had turned into a different man altogether. No longer straying, and even made himself devoted to this one woman.
Yet both Jane and Linda were from prominent families, which rose McCartney up the ranks of society and notoriety on both continents.
Meanwhile, Violet was just an average person with no place in the history books, but held a part of the significant figures heart.
“I’m glad though,” the elder began, “that you were never caught up with men like me and me mates.” He suddenly confessed. “We were too immature to appreciate your true qualities, which I’m happy to be both alive and mature enough to enjoy them now.’
“Why do you say that?” Violet asked, feeling very flattered
“Because you are just you.” Paul simply replied.
“I don’t expect anything from you, and you expect nothing from me,” he added, as he gazed into her eyes.
“It’s a great relief to just be around someone, like a pretty lady such as yourself,” the British Knight continued sweetly. “and not have all the pressures that were once there in these sort of pairings.”
“What kind of pressures?” the feminine voice inquired.
“Well…” the man who had lived an extremely wild life in the 1960s, began a little off guard. He never really had to explain this before, especially to the opposite sex. “There would have been the tension over which one of us would be with you, based off who wanted you and who you wanted.”
This made Violet nervous a little. She had never in her life entertained anything romantic in nature with her companion or his old band.
“What if I didn’t want any of you?” the woman boldly wanted to know.
Paul just lifted an eyebrow to her question.
“That attitude would have likely allowed you to stay and hang around.” The former Beatle admitted. “Then we’d try again later,” he added, causing both to laugh.
“And if you still refused, we would just go off with the girls who would, and you’d be asked to leave.” The man knew he was putting that lightly.
The slightest hesitation would have brought security around the lass who was definitely making her exit from their life.
“However, the girls we did go off with would just be sent away, eventually.” The elder confessed.
“None of us are proud of that.” He added softly.
“In a way we feared such girls would try to latch themselves onto our wealth and notoriety.” McCartney explained. “But we were also selfish.” He further explained.
“We would simply want them for one thing, but we only kept long term relationships with well off women of our status once we took off.” His soft voice elaborated, accompanied by a sigh.
“Well, that’s nothing new,” the woman now spoke.
“I’m not going to say it wasn’t a low thing to do,” she continued her criticism. “But you’re no longer like that, as far as I can see.” The feminine voice assured with a warm smile.
The lass knew her etiquette, which was adoring, but part of the divide between the man and woman. These customs were reminders of the oil and water relationship the different classes should have. Never blending, yet the pair sat together, as if they were family.
Yet even that possess the dominance status over this woman. As he patriotically gazed upon her, like a child from his loin’s.
“Well people mature.” The wise one noted, studying his female companions store-bought jewelry, and last year's fashions sold at those popular discount stores.
“We also sometimes need some kind of wild happening to make ourselves rethink upon a subject.” The English accent went on.
“Like being trapped in an elevator with a total stranger?” Violet teased, allowing her guard down a bit.
The old man chuckled at her boldness but found himself appreciating it more than before. She was like the girls in the play parks on the school grounds. The girls who jammed up the soda counters on Saturday afternoons and cried out during Elvis pictures.
“Precisely.” McCartney agreed, seeing the nameless faces from eons ago. Most of these women would be dead by now, but he doubt not a single one forgot him and his mates.
“Sometimes big names, such as meself,” A less polished accent escape those eighty-four-year-old lips. “Need to come down to Earth.” The elder conveyed in a gentle whisper.
“We just need to know that it’s safe.” He added, instinctively looking at the new patrons walking in the door of the restaurant.
A man and woman waltzed in through the front doors, and immediately noticed the famous man. No words were said, but the look was there.
“I think we should take this to go.” The less famous person acknowledged to which Paul simply nodded.
Together the two left the restaurant and sent the driver in to deal with the bill and gathering of the leftovers.
While in the back of the car, the two shared a smile.
“I know it’s hard for you to trust people.” Violet stated, with an understanding expression upon her model-like face. “I want you to know that I’m honored you trust me and check up on me and Clark from time to time.” She added while gazing upon her companion sweetly.
“You really are a gift, Violet.” Paul replied, with the flashes of countless girls of the past. Violet was his link to them all, and his silent apology.
After dropping off the daughter figure, the man who had everything, but years ahead, gazed upon out the window into the nights sky, reminding himself how insignificant he was in the grand scheme of things.
Yet for the foreseeable future he would be a rock legend, loved and adored for generations to come. Violet was just herself in life and would fade away in a much sooner time than himself.
However, for the man destined to be in the books of history, Violet was a gift for the famous figure. More than he could ever be for her.
She was more than his penance, but his link to the very ground itself. Violet was a flower from the soil of the earth. A bright bloom he was grateful he would never dare pick. Not that his younger self wouldn’t have tried, but “despite that young man” of the past he once was.
Paul McCartney was no longer that careless lad who played with girls' hearts, and the former Beatle was grateful for that.
As an old man he had the privilege to know of such a girl. Not a girl who gave him sex, notoriety or even money, but a connection he never thought he’d want, but grateful for the rest of his life, he had.