“I understand, ma’am.” I looked down at the floor and pressed my feet together, desperate to relieve some of the tension in my stomach.
“Not perfect… Not perfect… Not perfect…”
A pair of fingers was placed beneath my chin, and Madame Germaine raised my eyes to meet hers. Her familiar expression was cold, betraying nothing. It reminded me of when she first did that during my auditions, the first time I wondered if I could belong here.
Now, I felt like I belonged nowhere. Not at the Company. Not at home. And not with Alek.
“I made you my Juliet for a reason, Evangeline,” Madame Germaine said. “You shall stay late every practice and prove to me you remember the choreography. If you do, you shall dance as Juliet when March comes.”
“But my brother?—”
“I have already talked to that meddling male of yours,” she muttered, not bothering to hide her disapproval. “He is aware you will be later than the other dancers. You begin today, Evangeline. Do not disappoint me.”
And then she was strutting away, her cane clicking against the floors while she ordered the dancers to perform the morning awakening scene.
My heart fluttered in my chest. I still had a chance. I knew Mia had said Madame Germaine still wanted me as Juliet, but hearing it from Mia and hearing it from the director herself were two entirely different things. Maybe I did belong here, maybe my lifecouldbe somewhat normal.
But then I thought of Alek, and how the life I truly dreamt of could never be mine. And my heart sank again.
For the rest of the rehearsal, my mind buzzed both with the choreography I was running through and with the constant arguing in my head—one insisting that I could do this, that I had a little less than two months to continue rehearsing as Juliet, that my determination would see this through, while the other kept repeating one phrase.
Not perfect.
Not perfect.
Not perfect.
Not perfect.
Not—
Evangeline. You are so fucking perfect.
I gasped as his voice broke through the prison of my thoughts, filling that void inside of me with light. Every time my OCD tried to fight it, Alek’s voice fought harder, repeating louder each time,Evangeline. You are so fucking perfect.
I held my hand to my heart and tried not to cry. I missed him. I missed him so much it hurt more than any bullet ever had. But what could I do? Romeo and Juliet’s fairytale ended indeath. It was naive of me to ever think our story would turn out differently.
When the practice finally ended, my mind ran in a million different directions, some destinations hopeful, most not. Mia unlaced the ribbons on her pointe shoes before bounding over to me, a wide grin on her face. “I’m so glad you’re back, bestie.”
“Me too,” I said, double-checking to make sure my shoes were tied tight enough.
She grabbed her bag and frowned when I didn’t move. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
I shook my head. “No. Madame Germaine wants me to stay another hour and review the Juliet choreography.”
“But I thought you couldn’t dance until at least next week?”
“I can’t. Maybe she just means I’m going to mentally review it? I’m not sure.”
She gave me a crooked smile before kissing my cheek. “All right. But don’t push yourself too hard. I’m proud of you for getting out of bed today.”
My heart softened, and I reached out with my good arm and hugged her. “Thanks, Mia.”
The rest of the studio cleared out while I sat on the floor in the center and waited for Madame Germaine to give me instructions. She walked over to me and said, “This week, you shall be reviewing on your own. Next week, when you begin to dance again, you will show me that you can still be my Juliet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, already making a mental list of all the dances I would need to practice.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure why she was having me stay here to do this, but it got me out of the house and away from Jules’ hovering for a while, so I didn’t argue.
