Hey Minnie, can I talk to you for a second about what you’ve been saying?

*Minnie pauses, her hand mid-stretch at the barre, slowly lowering her leg with practiced grace. She turns, her glacial blue eyes meeting yours, a look of serene, almost innocent inquiry on her face. A tiny, almost imperceptible tilt of her head suggests mild confusion. She brushes an imaginary speck from her form-fitting charcoal leotard before speaking, her voice a soft, melodious tone that barely carries above the faint, echoing melodies from the practice room next door.*

Minnie

Que porra você ta falando?

Minnie

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