"Solnyshka?" I murmured, that word tugging at the edges of my memory.
"It means ‘Little sun’ in Russian," another dancer piped up from the back. I glanced around the room again, suddenly aware of everyone watching me. This moment felt intimate, though I couldn't explain why.
"All right, everyone," Mia said, sensing my discomfort and unwillingness to voice it. "Move on. Leave Eva to her secret admirers in peace. I’m sure you nosy bitches will hear about this soon."
As soon as they'd gone back to their own mirrors, Mia grabbed my arm and pulled me close, hissing underneath her breath, "Who did this?"
"I don't know," I said softly, looking back to the flowers. I hadn't been on a date in... ever. The closest thing I'd ever come to one was tagging along with Mia on some of hers.
Her eyes narrowed to sharp slits. “Okay, well. Someone with money did this. Like,realmoney.” She touched one of the tulips nestled between some peonies. "And taste. Very good taste. This is the most beautiful bouquet I’ve ever seen."
"That doesn't mean I know who it is. Everyone I know has money!"
Which was true. My family was well off, which meant that all the families I was allowed to know were too. And the friends I made in adulthood, friends like Mia, came from wealthy backgrounds too. Unfortunately, ballet wasn’t very accessible. Shoes, costumes, recital fees, dance lessons—all of it was extremely expensive. Growing up, my academy had scholarships available to those in financial need, but without access to learn dance in the first place, how would they ever gain the passion to try? It was something I knew the dance world needed to do better. Maybe one day, when I could finally stop paying my bills slightly late, I could help with that.
Mia tilted her head. "On the contrary, you know he's not a creep. Probably. Or if he is, at least he's a creep with cash, which is my favorite kind… You didn’t notice anyone in the audience?"
I shook my head, though an image flashed unbidden—dark eyes, the weight of being watched. I'd assumed it was pre-show nerves, but what if it wasn't?
I shoved the thought away quickly. "I wasn't looking. It's hard to see with all the lights."
She hummed, unconvinced. “Well, whoever he is, he’s clearly obsessed.Wait.Could it be Alek?”
“I don’t think so. I mean… I remember him having an accent, but how would he find me here? And why would he even want to deal with me, Mia? I totally ghosted him.”
“I told you, Evie:villain.Villains don’t care about ghosting.”
My gaze drifted back to the bouquet. “This seems like something a prince would do, not a villain. So does that mean it’s not Alek? Should I try to figure out who it is? I feel like I should write a thank-you note orsomethingshowing my gratitude.”
“Um, you can express it by having the best sex of your life with the hot guy who sent you these!”
A few of the other dancers side-eyed us, chuckling under their breath, used to Mia’s antics.
I gaped at my friend, my cheeks burning. “You have no idea these came from Alek! They could be from mymom!”
She rolled her eyes. “The same mom who’s been ignoring you since you were four? Yeah, these are totally from her. Face it, Evangeline. These are definitely from Alek!”
I wished she were right, I really did. But the voice inside of me kept saying I messed everything up, that I wasn’t perfect enough for him. And unfortunately, that voice was much louder than my friend’s.
“Maybe,” I said, not wanting to discuss it anymore. “I’ll see you at auditions tomorrow?”
Mia sighed, though she thankfully let it go. “Yeah, babes. See you bright and early!”
Other people may not have understood why we were having auditions the day after a major show, but those people hadn’t met Madame Germaine, the fiercest woman I’d ever met and the director of the City Ballet Company. She didn’t believe in things like rest, not in the middle of our season. We had a show to put together by mid-March, which meant that every day was a day dedicated to the ballet. We could rest in the off-season.
I changed quickly into a simple pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. My hands lingered over my costume and my hair accessories while I tucked them into the costume closet.
I was going to miss this show. Though we'd be doing it again next Christmas, a secret part of me hoped that I would be in a larger role, which meant that this could have been my last performance as a snowflake and flower. Madame Germaine said I was showing promise, and my hopeful heart ran with that.
I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder and grabbed the bouquet, careful not to crush the flowers against my chest. They were heavier than they looked, substantial in a way that made my arms ache as I carried them down the hall.
I felt eyes on me as I carried the bouquet. Not theirs, not the dancers. Someone else was watching, waiting. I shivered under the weight of the nameless gaze and hurried my steps.
Outside, the cold slapped me back into reality. To my left, I could hear the sounds of the crowd cheering, of cameras snapping photos with some of the other dancers for the meet and greet. I could have gone, but no one would be there. Jules had been to several shows, but after the fourth, I told him he didn't need to anymore, and my parents had never come to a single show, not even when I was a kid. I guessed I could go see Charlotte, who was in town to visit Mia, but honestly, I just wanted to go home so I could get the night over with.
Was that all my life was? Forcing a smile and getting things over with?
No,I told myself, plastering another big one across my cheeks.Of course not. You're just tired from such an amazing day! Tomorrow will be even better!
