I resist the urge to say that, yes, I agree that Kuzmina is a sadist, and I would know because I’ve been regularly getting theshitscrewed out of me by one.
Today is supposedly a day off. But Kuzmina called a few of us in for a “special rehearsal” which devolved into her barking directions at us, on repeat, until we were all ready to collapse.
Lyra shakes her head as she peels off her sweaty dance gear and grabs a towel. “Have we considered that this might be a cry for help?”
Milena arches a brow “Pardon me?”
Lyra grins as she turns and starts to walk toward the showers. “Maybe she just needs to getlaid,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Wait, do we know which team she's on?” Naomi asks as she turns on the nozzle next to Lyra.
“Straight,” Brooklyn pipes up as she finishes her own shower. “That's from Kir.”
Brooklyn’s much older boyfriend is Kir Nikolayev, head of the Nikolayev Bratva and the owner of not only the Zakharova Ballet itself but also the Mercury Theater that houses it. He also has a totally platonic history with Magda Kuzmina. But he’s extremely coy about it, and Brooklyn swears even she’s never gotten the full story.
“He, umm, confirm anything else?” Naomi asks hopefully.
“Nope, and believe me, I’ve tried,” Brooklyn sighs.
Milena grins as she turns her water off and wraps a towel around herself. “How hard?”
“Hard,” Brooklyn giggles.
I’m the last one to finish showering, because I’m also the last one to getintothe showers. Today, like every day at the theater for the last few weeks, I’ve been trying to avoid letting people see me naked.
It’s not out of modesty. Even previous, innocent Evie didn’t have a problem changing in front of people. I mean, I’ve been dancing my entire life.
No, the current issue isn’t my body. It’s what Vaughn’sdoneto it.
Bluntly, I don’t want to have to explain to my friends why I’ve got vicious hand-and-thumb-shaped bruisesall over me.
So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been conveniently on my phone while the rest of them get undressed, then get out of my ballet gear while they’re busy showering, wrap a towel around the evidence, and slip into the furthest stall once the rest of them are done and getting dressed again.
I realize it's not a long-term solution. But for now, it’s the best I’ve got.
I’ve still got a towel wrapped around me when the door to the woman’s dressing room bangs open so hard it almost rips off the hinges and Val comes storming in lookingfurious.
“Dude,” Brooklyn frowns. “What are you doing?—”
“Everyone out,” he hisses lethally, his eyes piercing right into me. I pale as the room goes silent.
Milena glances around and clears her throat. “Uh, Val?—”
“Everyone get the fuck out!” he roars.
Brooklyn’s brow furrows as she walks over to Val.
“Hey, buddy,” she says softly. “What's up? You’re freaking everyone out.”
His throat works. “I need to talk to her…” He points at me. “Alone. Now.”
Brooklyn glances at me. I nod. “Go ahead, guys. Yeah, Val and I need to talk.” I smile weakly. “A surprise for Roman,” I lie.
“Is the surprise Val turning into a fucking psychopath?” Milena mutters darkly.
Val draws in a breath. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m…I’ve got a lot going on up here.” He taps his head. “Brother shit.”
Milena snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah,speakingof psychopaths.” She glances at me. “You want me to wait outside for you?”
