…
YOU DIDN’T SAY NO AGAIN.
YOU’RE WITH HER.
Aleksandr
I’m about to be.
Now shut the fuck up.
My lungs were burningas the music wound down to a few gentle notes before disappearing altogether, leaving me with the rush of blood in my ears and the feeling that my life was about to completely change.
I knew—I justknew—that I had done it. That I had danced the best I ever had, that I had captured Juliet’s youthfulness, her technique, her love for life, all with my body. Though I was sure I could later pick out many flaws, right now I couldn’t.
The voice was completely quiet as if to say, “Well done. Perfect.”
I held my final pose for a heartbeat longer than necessary, chest heaving, sweat cooling along my spine as the silence stretched. Then, Madame Germaine’s cane tapped once against the floor, the sound sharp and final. I released my body, gracefully landing off my burning toes onto my feet.
The crowd clapped, though I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of their faces. Would they look proud? Disappointed? Unimpressed? I didn’t want to know.
But for some reason, my gaze drifted to the darkened theater, drawn to the slow, deliberate clap of a shadowy figure. My entire body went cold, but not in a bad way. No, this was with the knowledge that I was being watched—and the freezing realization that I liked it. The silhouette was all shadow, all hunger, and yet a twisted part of me couldn’t look away.
I swallowed. Only Alek had ever left me unsettled like this, a tangle of desire and something sharper—danger, maybe—curling through me.
Maybe I was missing him too much.
I stepped back into line amongst the others, my legs still trembling, and my heart racing so fast I worried it would fall out of my chest. I’d given everything, and for the first time since I’d joined the Company, I thought I might have a chance.
Madame Germaine rose, surveying us with her hawk-like gaze. The room stilled immediately.
“Thank you, my darlings,” she said. “You’ve all danced beautifully. Now, who will play our Juliet?”
My stomach flipped violently.Please be me. Please be me.
Madame Germaine’s lips parted, and for a moment, I swore I saw the beginning of an E shape, like she was about to say either my name or Elsie’s—and though I loved my friend, a selfish part of me hoped it was me. A trickle of noise escaped Madame Germaine.
Then a voice cut through the theater.
It was low. Smooth. Dark as sin, deep as the Mariana Trench, richer than any chocolate. Part of me recognized it, but another part of me could barely hear it through the dramatic pounding of my pulse.
“Evangeline. The role of Juliet will be played by Evangeline,” the man said.
My head snapped toward the audience, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs and my throat. Was that the investor? Were they askingmeto play the lead role?
Why?
We all turned to Madame Germaine, not used to anyone making decisions for her. I expected her to frown and refute them, telling us who wasactuallyJuliet. But to my surprise, she nodded once before saying, “Yes. Evangeline Vale will dance as Juliet.”
For half a second, my world stopped.
Then it crashed back in all at once.
Mia screamed, running at me from the side of the stage before wrapping me in the tightest hug I’d ever had. Someone else came up and hugged me from behind—Elsie, if I had to guess. Another dancer grabbed my hands, babbling congratulations, and the rest piled on. In an industry like ours, it was easy to feel jealousy. But the fact that everyone was nothing but happy for me made me unbelievably warm. My vision blurred as my chest filled with something bright and overwhelming and unreal.
Juliet.
IwasJuliet.
