by Max Hudson
That was how he had ended up in this position. He had lifted her improperly the night before at the performance and to recover he had twisted his knee out of place.
It was painful to put weight on, but he could make it. It wasn’t seriously injured, just in pain. Maybe it should have been rested a little bit longer, but there was no sense in fussing over that. The show had to go on.
And the show did go on. By the time it was over he was limping backstage barely able to walk. Two of his fellow dancers helped ease him into a seat so that he could try to rest the injured leg, but there wouldn’t be much time for that, he knew that. Some changes were going to happen soon.
He didn’t know what, but the buzz around the studio was that there was a deal in the works to try to bring ballet more into the mainstream.
He didn’t like that idea. Ballet was a classic and shouldn’t be modified to appeal to the masses. Maybe it was a little arrogant of him to think that way, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he had anyone that he was trying to impress outside of an audience that didn’t care about his motivations for dancing. They just wanted to see the art that he was performing with his physical body. They wanted to see him lift young women and toss them into the air with ease, move gracefully through the scene in beautiful costumes and stuff like that, not hear him talk about how ballet should remain traditional and in traditional outlets.
And he knew that the troupe could use the jobs. It was hard to sell out the audiences in ballets anymore. Young people just weren’t as interested as they were in things like internet music videos and more modern styles of dance.
After the dance, he sat backstage and waited for the leaders of the troupe to say whatever they had to say to him.
And it happened. Just like he knew that it would. After a few years with this troupe, it was easy to read the room.
He made his way to the backstage area and waited for the discussion. “We’re going to be going home.”
“Home?” Someone from the crowd asked. “Why?”
“Because we’ve finished this tour and we’re going to be working at a more stable set of jobs for a while.”
Hero looked up and asked the question that he wanted to ask. “How long are we going to be there?”
The troupe leader cleared his throat and started to explain. “For a while. It looks like at least six months of performing in a band exposition for local bands.”
“What?”
“Local bands are going to be performing and we’re going to be providing the dancers.”
“We don’t do modern music.”
“I know, but work is work right now. We’re having trouble getting bookings and I know many of us know several styles.”
Hero frowned heavily but he didn’t continue on with what he thought about saying. Work was work. And if this was going to pay, he was determined to get that check-in. He could stick by his laurels when paying his rent wasn’t dependent on him finding as much work in the field as possible. He couldn’t give up the chance to do this even if he felt it hit his ego in places that he didn’t like it being hit. He crossed his arms and nodded along as the rest of the details were shared with them. He barely listened to what was being said. This would all be written down and he would be able to read it then.
After the meeting, he hobbled back to continue icing his injuries. Maybe he was getting too old for this line of work. Ballet was for the extremely young and he was already getting close to thirty. His age was showing. He wouldn’t be in the game for much longer and he wasn’t ever going to get his big break. That meant that he would go to some sort of dead-end job or start teaching young dancers. He wasn’t sure what he would like less. He had never been very good with children. And that probably wasn’t going to change at his age. Or at least at the age that he felt.
He sighed heavily and finished the round of ice on his knee before standing up to make his way out to his van. He almost got to the door before he realized he had forgotten to change out of his costume from the show and had to turn back around and change.
The female lead met him at the door to the dressing room. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I’m just distracted.”
“You don’t like this job, do you?”
“What makes you say that?” He grumped as he moved into the room and stepped behind a curtain to change. They didn’t have great facilities there and changing with people close and even talking to him had become something normal in his life.
“Because you’re being such a grump. It’s a good steady job. Something to keep us in town even. No hotels. That’s more money in our pocket.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you so unhappy about it?”
He thought about telling her the truth, but it wouldn’t do any good. “I’m just hurting.”
He could feel her rolling her eyes on the other side of the curtain. It was just a given. She was doing that. And he couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t being believable. “You never act that way just because you’re hurt. You only get like that when you don’t like the direction that the troupe is going.”
“It’s ballet. And now we have to learn a bunch of new stuff to try to appeal to a new crowd? What’s next, swing dancing?”
She laughed. “You’re just being an elitist.”
“I’m not elitist enough to not take the job. I know I need the work.”
“But you’re just going to be grumpy the entire time?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He finished slipping his shoes on. “But I won’t let it get in the way.”
“I know you won’t, but can you at least try to be happy?”
He shrugged again. “Sure. I’ll try it.”
“Good.” She grinned at him. “That’s what makes you my hero.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Really? Do you have to do that right now? Why do you think this is a good idea?”
“I don’t know. It just feels right, doesn’t it?” She was laughing at him.
He smiled softly at her antics. “Not really, but it seems to make you happy at least.”
“Ah, is that why you haven’t quit yet?”
He snorted in laughter. “I haven’t quit because I’m far too old to start a new group.”
“I’m older than you.”
“You’re also married to our manager.” He poked fun at her.
“You should try nepotism sometime. It’s a really nice gig.” She fell onto the same old joke that she used whenever Hero pointed out that she and her husband had founded this group and she kept getting the lead. Everyone knew she was the best. She had been prima back when she was younger, but she needed a slower pace. Ballet was tough on the body. It had always been. Many dancers were out of the business by the time they had gotten to their age, and they both knew this fact.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it a shot. Know anyone in high places that I can marry?”
She laughed. “Not offhand, no.” She shook her head. “I’ll keep my eyes out for it though.”
He grinned. “I’m sure you would set me up with an amazing guy. You’ve got good taste.”
“You’ve forgotten the last time.”
“I haven’t. It was an adventure to get ditched with the check after he ordered the most expensive thing on the menu.” He laughed.
“I paid you back for that.” She countered.
He patted her shoulder. “I know you did. I reserved the right to tease you about it.”
“Right, I almost forgot about that.” She was still smiling so he wasn’t worried that he had upset her.
He shook his head. “You should get home. We’re on the road again tomorrow.”
“I’m not looking forward to that.” She frowned slightly. “I’ll be happy when we don’t have to travel so much.”
“Ready to finally settle down and start that family?” He raised an eyebrow. It was something new from her. She didn’t speak about the inevitable end of a dancer. That retire
ment that would happen eventually.
“Not quite yet. I got a year or so in me before I move into a management role entirely. I’d rather wait until then.” The idea bothered him deep in his gut, causing his stomach to boil over with acid.
He nodded.
“You should consider taking a job in management if your knee is still messed up.” She offered with a tilted head. She was testing the waters, seeing what he thought about the idea.
He scoffed, playing it cool instead of letting her know her own “Is that why you waited for me?”
She shrugged. “If you want it, the job is yours.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” He shook his head. “I still got a bit left in me yet.”
“All right. Well, it’s staying open. We can find a place for you in choreography or training or something.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep in mind.” He moved away from her. He didn’t want to think about how this was going to end, how his career was going to just fade away someday.
She didn’t try to stop him, letting him walk out the door, get into the van and wait for the ride to the hotel.
He was alone in the van, and that gave him time to think about what was coming for him. His body was fading. That much was obvious. He wouldn’t have the leading role for much longer and that was sort of depressing. He didn’t like thinking about it, about the pain, about the amount of work he had done to end up having to find another job by the time he was thirty. He had known it when he started this, but somehow, back then, it had seemed like an eternity. And now it was closing in fast, like a missile with a command to seek and destroy. He sighed and laid back across the bench in the van. The next group would be leaving the theatre soon and he could afford to get a nap before the group finished cleaning up.
Chapter Three
Bowie tapped his fingers on the table in front of him. “Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know.” Justice shook his head from his seat on the other side of the table.
The lead singer sighed heavily. “I can’t believe you talked me into signing up for this. It’s just a mess. It’s like they haven’t planned anything.”
The drummer shrugged. “It looked like a good gig. We get a portion of ticket sales and regular work here in town. Like a mini-festival every weekend. I think this could be a big thing for us.”
“That’s if they can even figure out that we’re supposed to be here. I submitted paperwork and got the approval. This is the time that we’re supposed to be here.” Bowie frowned again.
“Maybe it just got lost in the shuffle. It’s a kind of unique thing they’re doing.”
“Yeah, ambitious, I think that’s the word that everyone’s using.” Bowie sighed again.
“Ambitious is good.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s code for incredibly stupid and risky.”
“It’s no risk for us, is it?”
“We would have to turn down gigs in case this has a crowd.” Bowie shrugged. “Nothing we couldn’t cover. We’ve had to deal with this before, but it still hurts.”
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
Bowie ran his fingers through his black hair. “Sorry. I’m just being a downer.”
“It’s all right. You’ve got some doubts, I guess. And you’re letting them hang out.”
“I should be more supportive. I thought this was a good idea.” Bowie nodded. “But seeing this, it doesn’t make me that confident.”
Justice shook his head. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. It’ll all turn out.”
Bowie laughed. “Still so confident, aren’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because everything always turns out in your life.”
“Then you should have confidence in my life. This was my idea. That means it should hit my luck, right?”
The lead singer laughed loudly. “I guess so, yeah.” He thought about it for a second. “You know what? You’re right.”
“See, just have a little faith.”
“I’ve got faith in you to not let this blow in my faith.”
Justice grinned. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
“I thought you were asking me to go and join you and Henry for dinner?”
“Maybe I was.” The other man shrugged. “You should come join us.”
“I just feel like a third wheel whenever I come out with you guys.” Bowie shook his head.
“Are you uncomfortable or something?”
“I don’t know.” Bowie frowned. “Maybe a little. I just sit there and watch you two getting all lovey-dovey on each other.”
Justice frowned and looked down at his hands. “I didn’t realize it made you uncomfortable.”
“Of course, you didn’t. You two are happy and it’s hard to see that single people might feel a bit awkward around it when they’re in the room with you.” Bowie reached across the table and nudged Justice’s hand to make it fall off of the table and stop the man from staring at the appendages.
Justice looked back up at the friend who was sitting there with him. “Right, sorry.”
Bowie laughed. “Hey, it’s fine. It’s cute.”
“But you’re single.”
“Yeah, pretty painfully single.” Bowie shook his head. “I mean, it’s fine. I handle it fine. Maybe someday the right person is going to show up, but I’m not rushing it and I just want to let it happen naturally.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” The man nodded. “It’ll happen someday.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you’re an amazing guy. And everyone can see it. You just have to figure out who you’re going to settle with.” Justice laughed. “Because no one will ever live up to what you do yourself.”
Bowie rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you about clichéd lines?”
“That they don’t belong in music?”
“Or here.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” The other man shook his head.
Bowie grinned. “I should have. That should be a new rule. Let’s avoid all the clichés.”
“I’ll give it a shot, but no promises.” The other man shook his head. “You know I love my clichés.”
“I’ve written enough songs with you to know exactly how much you do.” Bowie laughed. “But it’s not a problem.”
“Clichés are cliché for a reason.” The drummer rolled his eyes. “Because they work.”
“You keep saying that.” Bowie countered. “But you’re probably right.”
“About time you realized I was right.” The drummer laughed loudly. “I have good luck and this is going to turn out.”
“I’ll just have to believe you on that.”
Justice nodded, but before he could speak the door opened. Someone walked in. “Good news. We found the paperwork. We had your band name inputted wrong.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Bowie nodded.
“Sorry about that.” The woman who had walked in nodded. “I know that we’re doing this in a series of showcases, whatever bands we can get that want to perform, we’ll have them perform. And this way we can have the dancers prepare.”
“Dancers?” Bowie tilted his head.
“We’ve retained a troupe that’s going to perform with every band that wants them. We’re hoping to have a good stage show for everyone.”
“We’ve never really done much of a stage show. We don’t have the budget for that.”
“That’s one of the things we’re hoping to do, have a venue set up that can be changed slightly to give everyone a slightly different show while using mostly the same equipment.” She explained, pulling a sheet of paper out of her folder. “This is what we’re going to have available for you.”
Bowie looked over the list. “Smoke machines, pyrotechnic set up that can be modified quickly and cheaply to be different. Giant screens.” He nodded. “That’s a lot of good stuff to put on a show.”
“We even have dancers that we’ve retained. I know th
is is highly unusual, but our venue is hoping that this can help local talent get a showcase.”
“That would be good.”
“And we’ll be live streaming all shows with links to your pages so people can find new bands that way. It’s like a band discovery event.”
“Are you advertising all over the place?”
“We’re putting together some online ads to share.” She nodded. “We’re going primarily virtual, like a tour that’s all in one place with concerts that people can enjoy in their own homes.” She nods. “People can even give donations to the bands while they’re playing.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I’m not sure how all of that is going to work, but it sounds like a great idea.”
“I hope so.” The woman nods. “Of course, some people will be able to buy tickets and come see the live shows. We have a list of possible slots for you. You can sign up for the ones that you want to get, and we’ll get you in as often as we can.”
“So, the ones I sign up for aren’t guaranteed?”
“No, basically, you let me know when you’re going to want to play and we’ll figure out who to fit where.”
Bowie nodded. “That makes sense.” He started to look over the list of possible days. “How long do I have to sign up?”
“You can take the list home and we’ve got a form that you can fill out online with your availability. I know you may need to speak to your band about when people can do shows. We get that.”
Bowie nodded. “Thanks a lot.” He took the paper and folded it up to put it into his pocket. He probably should have brought something to put papers in, but he hadn’t thought of that. The back pocket would have to do for now. “I appreciate the chance.”
“You’re one of our biggest names. We were so happy to get you. I hadn’t heard of you, but several members of the staff are big fans.” She offered an awkward smile. “You’re one of the local success stories.”
“That means a lot to me.” Bowie couldn’t stop his smile from widening into a grin as he got up. “I’ll get that paperwork in for you.”
She stood and shook his hand. They said goodbye and Bowie made his way out of the room.
His drummer stayed behind to chat with some of the staff, but Bowie was on his way out of the building when he was shoulder checked by someone making their way past him.