“Maybe I never wanted to play with you because you talked too much,” he teased before pulling to the side in front of the theater. “Same time as yesterday?”
“Yup. Bye, Jules!”
The studio was bustling with dancers who had to be there earlier to work on some of the corps de ballet scenes. That used to be me—moving through the choreography as a unit, Mia always by my side. Dancing on my own would take some getting used to.
“That’s because you don’t belong here,” the voice inside of me whispered. The new spotlight, the rehearsals, the excitement with Alek—all of it stirred a storm in my head.
The break in my routine, the new environment, all of my overstimulation from Alek—though amazing—was making the voice stronger. I thrived best when I knew where to go, what to do, and who to be. Routines. Rules. Anything to silence the buzzing.
Now, I had to work twice as hard to get out of bed some mornings, tragedy after tragedy replaying in my head.
What if I wasn’t fit to be the lead?
What if I embarrassed myself and the other dancers?
What if I hurt myself like Elsie did?
What if I took the spot away from someone else who truly wanted it?
What if Madame Germaine only chose me because of Alek’s suggestion?
What if my brother found out about Alek and me?
What if Jules didn’t accept him as my boyfriend?
What if this empty feeling—the one that insisted I was never doing anything right—never went away?
I ignored all of those questions and the dozens that followed, shoving them into the box deep inside my heart with all of the other emotions I couldn’t deal with. That was my life: constantly trying to please everyone but myself. Even the little voice in my head.
“Evangeline,” Madame Germaine said as I began to warm up. “I hope you worked on your épaulements last night.”
“Yes, ma’am, I did.” I stayed at the studio for an extra hour trying to get my shoulders to turn just right. It was a small thing in ballet—not even a full move—but Madame Germaine didn’t become director of the Company by ignoring the small things.
“Good. You’ll be working on the balcony pas de deux with Raphael today.”
I tried not to frown. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do the balcony pas de deux—because I did. It was one of the most romantic dances in my humble opinion, at least. Though it wasn’t as technically difficult as other pas de deux from ballets likeThe Sleeping BeautyorCinderella,there was something about it that tugged at my heartstrings whenever I had the privilege of watching it. So much yearning captured in such simple movements that I couldn’t help but cry at their families keeping them apart. Juliet’s innocence and hesitation, Romeo’s pleas and obsession, all of it coming together for true love. I was honored to be the one to perform that for our Company, and I hoped that I would do it justice.
But there was something about it that I was struggling with.
The kiss.
At the end of the balcony scene, Romeo would pull Juliet into a slow, passionate kiss full of all the longing they couldn’t say aloud. I’d always dreamt of performing the ballet with my Prince Charming. Ihadn’tdreamt of him being out in the audience, watching it all happen.
In my heart, I knew Alek wouldn’t take the news well. He was very possessive of me, guarding my heart as if someone could ever have the chance of stealing it. It didn’t matter that Raphael was in a very committed relationship with a violinist in the orchestra. All Alek would know was that someone was kissing what belonged to him.
My legs clenched at the thought of his reaction, which was why I hadn’t figured out a way to tell him. I shivered before diving into the balcony scene with Raphael, listening intently as the choreographer directed us while Madame Germaine corrected every little thing. We moved through the scene a fewtimes before the director called for some of the fight scenes, dismissing me for the day.
Mia came over as I was lacing up my shoes, texting both Jules and Alek that I was done early. “You looked really good today,” she said. “I already noticed a difference from your practice, and Madame Germaine hardly had any notes for you.”
“Yet,” I huffed, looking at myself in the mirror, fixing my slightly askew ribbon.
“Eva, it’s day two. You’re not going to be perfect this soon. You know it takes time.”
I did, but that didn’t mean I accepted it. I shrugged, but before I could give more of a rebuttal, we were interrupted by a man walking into the studio with a large bouquet of pink gardenias. I knew instantly who they were for, though I still waited for him to call my name.
The other dancers affectionately rolled their eyes, teasing me under their breath. Mia had let it slip yesterday that I had a new boyfriend, and they all enjoyed making me turn bright red, apparently. I signed for the flowers, thanking the driver, before bringing them back to my bag.
“Another bouquet?” Mia asked as I fiddled with the card.
