10

"SHIT . . . FUCK,"

The swear words fly from my mouth uncontrollably as I scowl at the small tear in my tights underneath my shorts. I stared at the black hosiery's fray that landed at the side of my calf, hoping that it was my eyes playing tricks on me. But no, as my finger brushed along it, careful to not do more damage, I could feel my skin underneath. "Fuck."  Did I scrape it against the bar? Did my bag's zipper snap at it? Did I simply not notice it prior and it's been there for much longer? The latter thought made me slightly dizzy. There's no way.

"Kylo?"

Looking up I stared up into the soft eyes of my fellow dancer Penelope. She looked at me with slight worry, noticing the panic on my face I was failing at hiding. "You okay? You seem panicked?"

I exhale a low sigh, hand running over through my hair. "I'm just a dumbass," I say aloud.

"U-um," I paused, taking a look around the rest of the dance studio. No one else seemed to be looking your way, busy with putting on their own tights or perfecting their bun. "Here, look." Pushing out my calf I exposed the small – barely three-inch – tear. Penelope looked down, squinting her eyes to better focus on the leg. A few seconds later she met my eyes with the same panic I had inside.

"Do you have a spare?" she whispered, looking over to my gym bag. She looked like she had a small twitch, her body reacting in a way that made it seem that she wanted to rummage through the zippered bag too.

"No," I hushed back, "there's nothing in that damn bag but thoughts and prayers. I'm so fucking stupid." Barely a second went by before I noticed Penelope quickly going through her own bag – also trying to not draw attention to the situation. "I'll see if I have my other pair," she murmured.

This is why I love Penelope Jones. She wasn't like every other Prima Ballerina wannabe bitch who would laugh in my face if they noticed my attire fluke. She genuinely cared for others and wanted the best for everyone. I noticed that the day I met her at orientation, she smiled at everyone and cared little for the enormous amount of competition that came out of people in this program. Instead of stepping on people with her pointe shoes, she was the angel who would help you get back up – with a graceful hand while at it. A true diamond in the rough.

She looked back at me with a grim look, tucking her ginger stray hairs bend her ear – a nervous habit. "Sorry, Kylo . . . I don't have mine either."

Well, this was just perfect.

I gave a grateful smile anyway; the only person I knew I could ask for help in this room. "Well," I looked down at my torn tights once again before adjusting the rest of my outfit, "let's go." I shrugged, a defeated breath escaping my lips.

I stood at the bar with Pen to my left, completing warmups that my mind didn't even have to process. After years of ballet and hours and hours of warmups, my body went into a robotic mode that gave me the ability and finish quickly and efficiently. Flex. Point. Shift. Flex. Point. Shift. Trying to go unnoticed, I did go one rep less on my right side, quick to go back to my left to hide my tights from the class's view.

Penelope followed suit, smiling gently at me in hopes of calming my nerves and encouraging me to ignore the problem. She probably believed that the less I stressed about it, the less obvious the error would be. She's probably right. I need to stop stressing, they're just tights. I'm sure Ms –

"Wow, Kylo aren't you brave."

Lifting my eyes from the bar I turned towards the voice. Dressed in the standard leotard and tights stood my least favorite blonde in the world – a smirk plastered on her face. "I'm sure Ms. Sharon will be very impressed." I didn't try to hide my scowl. Pausing my stretch, I faced Aurora fully.

She smirked at me, trailing her brown eyes down my entire body before landing on the cursed tear. "I'm just saying," she started, "you're really brave to think she won't notice your ugly attire. I heard she cursed one of her old students out of the room for tying her laces the wrong way one year." I subconsciously moved my right leg behind the other. In the corner of my eye, I saw Penelope look down at her own laces.

"It's small. I doubt she'll even care." I tell her with a shrug and Aurora makes a face at me, glossed lips pursing for a moment and that's when I notice her twirling something with her fingers — a small pair of fabric scissors.

"Y-you . . ."

Aurora tilted her head at me, a pout coming over her face. "I was really hoping I had cut the crotch part." she gives a slight shrug.

About to make call her every last swear known to man I was quickly stopped by the sound of the studio door opening. Shutting my mouth quickly I and everyone else turned towards the woman entering the room – the wicked witch herself. Her tight face – though frowning – was still incredibly beautiful, the red lipstick contrasting with her pale face. She gave off an aura that would make someone think of a drill sergeant. There was no room for mistake in her presence.

"Take position."

At her two words, the room scrambled. Everyone who wasn't already there looking for a place at the bar. I gave out a breath of relief, happy that Pen and I were already holding onto the bar in the farther corner of the room – Aurora had to rush herself away from us to find her own spot.

Ms. Sharon walked over to the small stereo in the room as the room got into first position – deathly silence taking over. She tapped the small right button on the machine. In a minor crescendo, the room was taken over by beautiful music.

It had begun.

I watched the sweat on a small girl's neck float down to her collarbone. She was clearly out of breath, and I hoped for her that she could hold out for the last 10 minutes of class. In all honesty, I hoped that I could too. Throughout class, my mind kept taking me to the small tear on your tights. Every time Ms. Sharon looked in my direction I prayed that she wouldn't look down and scold me. But the entire lesson was almost over, and she hadn't uttered a word. Perhaps, I would get away with this after all. Take that you blonde evil bitch!

Mid-arabesques the music stopped. Quickly going back to both feet me and the rest looked over to Sharon who stood in the middle of the room.

"I assume you are aware of just how rigorous this school is. How rigorous I am." She looked around the room, making each person feel small. "This program is not for everyone, but I assume that because you were able to get past the initial entrance you feel empowered," she took a breath. "But I want to ensure you that more than half of you are not cut out for this, that most of you will be out of this program by the end of this year." Everyone around looked startled, even Penelope. Aurora, on the other hand, did not seem phased.

With a small sigh, Ms. Sharon picked off a nonexistent piece of lint from her black long sleeve. "Dismissed." The class erupted in small claps, thanking her for the lesson.

Ready to make my way to the door with Pen, I'm suddenly stopped by the raised hand of Sharon.

"Also," she paused. "I thought it was safe to assume this, but I must let you know," she looked me in the eye, dark grey eyes seeming to stare into your soul. "I do not tolerate any kind of attire contortion." A cold shiver ran down my spine. "This is my first and only warning."

Everyone was quick to say yes ma'am to Ms. Sharon before making their way out of the room. Though when I tried to escape past her she shook her head. "You come here," she didn't even look at me as she spoke but I knew she was talking to me. I had to take several large intakes of air. I could see the smirk on Aurora's face as she walked past me. Pen, the angel, put her hand on my back in comfort, though you don't think it could stop your racing heart even a little as I watched everyone make their way out of the studio leaving just me and Sharon.

When she looked up at me I nearly shivered from the coldness in her cloudy eyes. "Kylo Johnson . . ." she says my name slowly.

"Yes?" I replied uneasy.

"Why do you want to do ballet?" She asked in an incredulous tone.

"I've been doing it all my life," I tell her and an almost surprised expression washed over her but it left just as quickly as it came. "Oh really," she begins to pace around me like a cheetah stalking its prey. "You're not very good overall . . ." she bluntly said and I nearly threw up all over the floor in front of us I'm not even joking but then she continued. "but when you're good, you're pretty damn good. You have nice lines and that's more than I can say for more than half of your classmates."

Is she complimenting me or dissing me? I'm confused. I guess that was a nice compliment for her standards.

"Thanks?" I raised a brow at her.

She stopped pacing in front of me, arms crossing over her chest. "You're like a little dove, freshly hatched unaware of what you have to learn. You have potential and it's my duty as your instructor to help you reach it, but you have to meet me halfway and that means actually coming to class looking ready to play the part." she glanced towards the split in my tights.

"Ma'am this was not my fault. Aurora cut—"

She holds up a strict hand silencing me. "One thing you need to learn about me Kylo is that I hate excuses." I swallowed the rest of my sentence. It wasn't really an excuse I was telling her what actually happened but she didn't seem to care enough to listen.

"Since you're here I'll let you in a little secret," she starts again. "I'm gonna start implementing height and weight checks soon."

My brows furrowed at the words. "Height and weight?"

"It's an old practice borrowed from the military. My teachers did to me and I now do it to my students to help them," she's back to pacing around me again. "every couple of weeks I'll check your height and also your weight."

"Woah . . . that doesn't sound —"

"Ethical? Morally correct?" Sharon scoffed cutting me off. "Don't worry it's not just you. It's for everyone and it's not to belittle and cause self-harm but it's help keep you in shape. You wanna be a professional dancer right?"

I gave a hesitating nod.

"Then this is nothing trust me in the long run you'll be thinking me. Besides, you should be good. You look perfectly fit and healthy," she examines me with steel eyes. "Slender neck, long arms, nice legs, and a decent shoulders-to-torso ratio. Not too skinny and not too bulky. For a male dancer, you're almost perfect. I wanna help you reach perfect Kylo."

Nobody's perfect, I want to say aloud. Hannah Montana has a whole song about it but here I am standing in front of legal in the dance world. She's lived the life so many of us hope to live, and experienced the fame and fortune that comes with it.

"I wanna be perfect." My words betray my thoughts.

For the first time since I've met her, there's a slight smile on Ms Sharon's red-stained lips. "Good. You're not too far from it kid. Not get out of here it's getting late." she washes it away and waves me off. I nodded at her one last time before making my way out of the studio.

••••

"She wants to do what now!?" Semaj has a problem with controlling the volume of his voice and as we walked to work with a hella people around us he didn't restrict his shouting.

I made a face at him. "I'm literally right beside you there's no need to yell bruh," I say to him, my fingers still wrapped in my tie as I struggle to get it straight around my collar. After dance, I had to basically run back to my apartment to shower and get ready for work. It's not most days where I feel overwhelmed with my schedule but today was one of those days where everything seemed too heavy for my shoulders. Even putting on my work uniform which consisted of nothing more than a white long-sleeve button-up, tie, and black slacks felt like a chore.

"I'm just saying Lo," Semaj notices me struggling and fixes my tie with his own hands, somehow managing to get it perfect with a few simple movements. "height and weight is a crazy method, don't you think? You guys aren't in the fucking Navy you're ballet dancers for fuck sake. That's a really unhealthy way to teach."

"It is," Even I could admit it was flawed but what am I to do? Not dance anymore? "I looked online and with my height and the weight I am right now I'm good so there's nothing to worry about really. I just have to be more cautious with my eating habits like no more donuts in the morning before class." I make a face at him.

Semaj frowns at me, head shaking from side to side. "But you love your donuts before class, that's like your ritual. If you don't eat a donut the entire balance of the earth will be off. Earthquakes will happen, and volcanoes will erupt!"

I made a face at how dramatic he was being. "Jesus Christ Semaj, it's a fucking donut not an entire full-course meal. I'll be fine and I need to save the money anyway."

"I don't like this new teacher," Semaj admitted with a distasteful look on his face and I oddly found myself laughing at my friend's worrisome nature over me and I reached over to pinch his cheeks. "Aw, you care about me so much!"

He swats my hands away. "Yeah, bitch you're the only friend I got out here what the hell? Who else would I hang out with? Tristian?"

Amidst our rambling, Semaj and I walked through the parking lot in the back entrance of La Crème, but to my surprise, an expensive black Rolls-Royce was blocking our pathway. It caught us both off guard because this parking lot is reserved for staff only. I'm quickly faced with sudden annoyance when the backseat window of the car rolls down to reveal the last person I want to see right now looking directly at me.

Kill me.

Stone doesn't say anything at first. His attention is too busy on the burning cigar in between his fingers that he ashes from the opened window.

Semaj's dark eyes grew wide, his mouth slightly agape at the boy. "Y-your that one guy," his words come out stammered which is something that doesn't happen too often with Semaj. He turns to me with a confused expression plastered over his face, before returning it over to Stone who stares at him blankly. "Is he going to kill us? Let me know now because I got a taser in my work bag," he whispered to me and I withheld an eye roll that fought to come over me.

"No. He's not here to kill us," I tell Semaj whose eyes have yet to leave the man. "what do you want?" I asked him.

Stone looks over at Semaj with a questionable look on his face in my friend's disbelief, a look that made him look scary and oddly charming at the same time but this wasn't the right time for that look, not even in the slightest. "Mind if I borrow him for a moment?" he asks.

Before I could blink I felt Semaj suddenly shove me forward without hesitation, eyes wide on his face as he kept me in place with his hand on my shoulder."Sure!"  he answered, practically beaming at the man in the car who sent him in a small head nod.

I turned back to him. "What the hell? I thought I was your only friend yet you're quick to offer me up to some guy you don't even know."

Semaj made a face. "I gotta put me first."

I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to Stone. "What do you want?" I bluntly asked, not even trying to hide the subtle annoyance in my voice. He sits up resting his elbow on the car window seal, his posture the perfect picture of nonchalance. "You know why I'm here."

Semaj eyes shifted between the two of us before he finally removed his hands from my shoulders.

"I'm literally about to go to work," I tell him.

Stone shrugged his broad shoulders, the grey tuxedo clinging to him like skin. "You promised," the words came out his mouth like a scolding and I made a face at him. "I know but I'm literally at work I can't just leave because you want me to. I have bills to pay."

"Don't worry about that," he said, ashing the cigar out the window again and I watched the grey ashes fall to the ground. "you made a promise to me and you know how I am about promises." His dark eyes fixed on me when he spoke, those piercing dark circles of his that sent a chill down my spine.

I exhaled a low sigh, defeated and over it. I turned back to Semaj who was standing behind me confused as ever. "Can you cover for me tonight?" I asked.

"What," he raised a brow at me. "cover your shift? Lo, you know how these people are with calling out of work—"

"Make something up for me, please."

Semaj looked between me and Stone once again, his eyes trailing to the ground when Stone met his stare. He shakes his head at me. "Fine and you would pick the day when there's no fun people on the schedule too. I'm gonna be so bored man."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you I promise."

Giving me a slight pat on the back, Semaj sends me one last look before he makes his way inside. "This debrief we're gonna have when we get back to the house is gonna be crazy," he whispers to me, walking past me and making his way through the back entrance of the restaurant.

"You two live together?" Stone asked, nodding back to Semaj.

"Yeah," I answer dryly. Stone takes another drag of his ugly fat cigar before tossing it to the ground. I guess he was trying to make small talk but he was failing miserably. I scoffed, finding humor in the way he acted so confident — assertive. Usually, I would find that attractive on a guy but on Stone it just made him all the more repulsive. Oddly enough, I lost my momentaneous need to run away. There was a small, atom-sized chance that he had truly awakened curiosity inside me. "What do you want me for this time? Dogsitting those demons you call baby girl the other day wasn't enough?"

He dramatically rolls his eyes, inhaling deeply, running one tattooed hand over his head — those goddamn big hands with those cursed veins. "Actually no, it wasn't," his word, as breathlessly as it came out from his chest, interrupted my daydreams, making me blink quickly. "I need you to do something for me."

"And that would be?"

Stone sends me a look but I'm unable to read it due to his face always being frozen in that same nonexpressive way He positions his head back in the car, the window slowly rolling back up to reveal the dark-tinted glass windows. Suddenly, the front door of the car opens and an older-looking man gets out making his way around the car to my side. He opens the backseat door and gestures for me to get in. Inside I can see Stone on the opposite side patting the empty seat beside him teasingly with a devilish grin on his face.

••••

EXCUSE ANY MISTAKE OR ERRORS