Pointe of Breaking

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Pointe of Breaking Page 14

by Amy Daws


  I wanted to hurl.

  Curled on center stage, the heat of the lights beat down on my back. Shadows cast over all but three vacant seats. A light melody came out of the speakers. Ivan had picked the routine, deeming it a beautiful complimenting arrangement. He argued that Scott already knew we could dance with fire; now was the time to show him beauty.

  The piano’s introduction to Nickelback’s, “Lullaby Song” trickled in through the stage speakers. The bass vibrated the floor boards. My hands were a sweaty mess. I couldn’t perform if I couldn’t pull myself together. I glanced up at Ivan. His body was rigid but ready. He gave me a cold stare. It went right through me. I could practically hear him shouting that I needed to get my shit together.

  Our routine started out with an easy catch. On cue, I pounced from my curled position. Keeping the beat, I raced to him and leapt…

  …I rushed the count.

  Ivan managed to catch me, but the rhythm was off. Bad. There would be no recovery. Hell, we barely had a chance. My heart sank when Mr. Scott reached for his Fedora in anticipation to leave.

  “Again!” Ivan called back to the stagehand controlling the music. He marched up to me. “What was different about the Aerosmith dance?”

  I looked over at the three people ready to walk away from our futures. Ivan stepped in front of them.

  “They don’t matter. It’s just you, and me, and this wooden floor that we’ve spent all our lives performing on. So be my fucking partner and tell me what changed during the Aerosmith song!”

  “I just danced!” I yelled back and turned to leave.

  He grabbed my arm. “There was something more going on and we both know it.”

  He was kind enough not to bring up Blake and all the pain associated with him. What Ivan didn’t know was that—

  “Just spit it out!”

  “Leo!” I yelled back and jerked my arm out. “I was so focused on him, everything else just faded away.”

  Ivan cocked his head to the side. His eyes narrowed as he closed the distance between us. “You’re my best friend, Addy, but right now I need you to think about him when you’re fucking dancing with me! Do whatever, think whatever, and I’ll be whoever you need me to be.”

  My eye twitched. Not a single conscious thought rippled through my mind. Everything was purely emotion. Rage mixed with excitement mixed with the tiny and oh, so damaging emotion of all: hope.

  “Again!” I yelled to the stage crew.

  With a turn of my toe, I knelt and curled back into position. The piano introduction trickled in, echoing off the walls. The bass rumbled, vibrating my fingertips. My body trembled with electricity as I thought about the first moment I saw Leo. I spun out of position and charged Ivan, racing toward him, gaining speed in the way only the most graceful danseur could.

  Ivan barely caught me. The catch was so delayed I thought that he’d missed me completely. And then, I hung in the air. The spot lights blinded me as I remembered the way it felt to have Leo’s hands on me.

  Dancing to a song of love and loss, I twirled around Ivan like always. Nothing seemingly changed. Yet, everything changed. The song mixed the sensation of falling in love, the torment of suffering, and then forgiveness as a loved one departed. The dance was to illustrate the tragedy of love.

  …The sensation of Leo’s kisses on my eyes, when he dragged his lips down my neck, the enraged expression that overcame him when I was hurt, the way he cupped my back when I screamed his name. The way he looked at me as he whispered my name. The way he held me as sleep took us both…

  The bitch with the pearls, Mrs. Richards, glowered at us like we were perverting the art. She gasped in mortification when I kicked my leg backwards, grabbed my ankle, and held it behind my head while Ivan walked behind me. He grabbed my stomach and lowered his hand down my leg. Our untraditional dance methodology was so not winning her over. Her harsh expression might as well been writing on the wall. As we transitioned into the next movement, I wanted to shout, love takes many forms and not all are sweet!

  Ms. Higgins’ facial expression fell utterly blank. No thought passed over her eyes, but I knew she was at the edge of her seat when I noticed that she was tapping her forefinger on her leg. It was her only tell. She was moved.

  During the grand coda, I slipped slightly off beat. My spins were just off count enough for Ivan to notice, which meant Mr. Scott had to have picked up on it as well. I was messing this up!

  “Push through it.” Ivan grabbed me and slammed me up against him in sync with our routine. “Pretend I’m him.”

  My toe point faltered…again. It pissed me off that my body was giving out before my mind. “I am.”

  “Liar!”

  He jerked my arms above my head. Sweat drizzled down my skin. Clasping my hands from behind, Ivan pushed me forward.

  “Your scream is still fresh in my mind from this morning,” he spoke in a hushed voice with a thick, sultry undertone. “It echoes in my ears. So if this bitch’s son doesn’t make you cry out, I will.”

  He’d long since ditched his shirt, so I was literally met with a platter of ink, decorating a muscular, charged, hot piece of ass. His gaze darkened. His performance was paramount. The seductive stare happened in a matter of a second, a single beat, but there was no unseeing it.

  …Images of Leo commanding me with his fingers surfaced. I couldn’t erase the memory of his body moving with mine as the tension built. The way he grabbed the back of my thigh as I arched into him, screaming his name as I toed the line to sweet fucking bliss…

  I extended my vertical arch further than I ever had so that I actually looked backwards at Ivan. He clasped my thigh against him just like Leo had. Oh sweet fucking hell…

  He jerked me back. “I’ll bring you to the edge and then leave you hanging if you do not fucking do what I want.”

  He twisted my arm fast enough for me to carry the momentum into my legs. I spun, leaped on toe, and bent forward. Pushing my leg backward, holding a perfect line, I held it for two counts before bending my knee so that my shoe grazed the back of my hair.

  …A fantasy of Leo taking me, grabbing me from behind, and making love to me while staring at a mirror…To see his body flex. To see him stretch me until I could go no further. To collapse in his arms after finishing…

  I ached for him.

  Tears filled my eyes when the coda hit. Ivan flipped me in the air and caught the small of my back as I pretended to lay dead in his arms…lovers parted. I slid down his body and curled back into my original position on the floor while Ivan kissed his hand and raised it to the heavens.

  As the song came to an end, I gazed outward, letting my eyes cloud over as I stared down the audience. I wanted them to see the desire in them. The music stopped and Ivan released me from my position. Not before I noticed another member in the audience.

  Standing a few rows back stood Leo. He grabbed the back of the chair in front of him like he was going to rip it from the floor. The muscles in his arms bulged. His chin dropped, shadowing the darkness in his eyes. I had never seen someone so enraged in my life. After this morning, I knew he wasn’t fond of Ivan, but to warrant the unrest in his eyes had to have been brought on by something or someone else.

  Unexpectedly, Ivan grasped the small of my back and pulled me close—too close. His hand dipped down far below my waist line. I started to step away from him when Mr. Scott approached us. He began a conversation with Ivan—one that I should have been a part of, but all I could think about was Leo. I glanced over my shoulder to see him, hoping he knew that everything onstage was just for show.

  Leo’s lip curled. He took a deep breath to calm down. Yet, it didn’t calm the unrest in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. He gave me a look similar to when Blake called off our engagement.

  “Isn’t that right, Addy girl!”

  “Pardon?” I said, excusing my apparent absent-mindedness.

  “Mr. Scott was just saying that you danced with unforgiving passion.
” Ivan’s gaze dropped to my lips. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  He pulled me against him like he’d done a thousand times—onstage. However, the music was over. The show was over. Yet, it was obvious that he was still very charged from our dance. I couldn’t totally blame him. I had been giving him the fuck-me eyes. Even so, that didn’t merit any emotion offstage, especially in front of Mr. Scott. Ivan needed to distance himself—

  Ivan kissed me. His lips rolled over mine, mimicking the lust we displayed through our dance. Fierce. Passionate. Hungry. His body tightened under my fingertips as I pushed against his chest to distance myself. His lustful gaze cleared after I pulled away.

  A blur of the raging fury that was Leo Richards jumped on stage. He got right in Ivan’s face and gave him a hard push, furthering the distance between him and I.

  “What’s your problem man?” Ivan yelled, catching his balance and righting himself back up.

  “You’re my fucking problem!” Leo pointed back at me. “Your dick is probably wet from rubbing it against her.”

  “Stop it!”

  I attempted to pull Ivan away, but there was no moving him. I had no success breaking through their bubble of shouting until I gently touched Leo. He stopped instantly but spun around like I’d betrayed him. This was the only shot we had at salvaging our careers and judging by the disappointment on Mr. Scott’s face, that ship had sailed.

  I spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re ruining our only audition.”

  “Audition for what? A strip joint? Because all I see is him playing grab-ass,” Leo said. “And sucking on your face!”

  I slapped him. “Never talk to me like that!”

  Leo recovered quickly and his expression eclipsed into a state of self-loathing. He couldn’t be just upset about my dance. There had to be something more! What happened at the meeting he mentioned having to attend before he kissed me goodbye this morning?

  “You are fucking up Addy’s career,” Ivan said in a hushed voice. “This is all she has.”

  “She has me.”

  Getting right into Leo’s face, Ivan snorted. “You? You’re nothing more than a second-string rich kid following in Blake’s footsteps. Yeah, I know all about him. And all about you. Want to know why? Because she trusts me enough to tell me everything, even the stuff she is embarrassed to say, even her fears, even her hopes and dreams that fuckers like you destroy! I care more about Addy than anything else in the world! She’s my fucking partner. And I’ll do anything for her, even if it means ruining my career as well because I love her in a way you’ll never know!”

  Leo turned to face me and looked positively at war with himself. It pained me to see him this way. However, what Ivan had said was the truth—most of it. I trusted Ivan with my whole heart because he was the only man who’d never betrayed my trust, even though the kiss pushed those limits. Deep down, Ivan was my best friend and my dance partner. If Leo thought that he could dictate who I hung out with, he was mistaken. The idea that anyone could give authority on another person’s relationship was absurd. I desperately wanted to ask him what the hell happened today, but those questions got stuck in my throat.

  Instead I said, “Ivan is my partner.”

  Leo shook his head with disgust. “You’re such a fucking mess. You can’t even tell when someone’s taking advantage of you.”

  “That’s enough!” Ivan grabbed Leo by his jacket and pushed him offstage. He didn’t take his hands off of him until he had walked him out of the auditorium.

  The door slammed behind them. I was left standing alone on stage in front of the only scout still interested in our messed-up partnership. It took all the courage I had left to face the other three people in the seats. I had to; for myself, for Ivan, for our dreams…Squaring my shoulders, I turned on pointe, placed my hands behind me, and waited for their judgment.

  Mrs. Richards chortled. “I think my son has described the arrangements perfectly.” Standing, she turned to Ms. Higgins. “I expect the girl to be expelled and Richards & Brown will remove our association from this school.”

  “Please reconsider!” Higgins said, chasing after her.

  Mr. Scott kept his hands behind his back. His face was unreadable. It wasn’t a stretch to assume that his entire life’s work revolved around ballet; he had to understand the torture he’d just put us through.

  “How are you without the pointes?” Mr. Scott asked.

  “I’m better with them,” I replied. We were better together than alone and even though I performed better in my shoes, I knew that Ivan was a natural barefoot danseur. “However, Ivan is amazing—”

  “—I perform however necessary with my partner,” Ivan replied, returning to the auditorium. I wondered what happened to Leo but it was Ivan’s expression of absolute resolution silenced those thoughts. Despite him over-stepping his boundaries a moment ago, this moment was what we’d trained for. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was so lucky to have someone like him in my life that could forgive me so many times without hesitation.

  “And your personal life?” Mr. Scott pressed.

  “Is irrelevant,” Ivan replied for me. “We dance how we must to capture the audience’s hearts.”

  “So what was that demonstration between you two and that over-bearing boyfriend type?”

  The words hurt as I spoke them. “You should understand our commitment to ballet.”

  Mr. Scott nodded approvingly. “Our company will not tolerate negative publicity in the tabloids, Miss Parker.”

  I wanted to tell him how badly I hated seeing myself in print like that too. It was a juvenile defense. I couldn’t promise it would never happen. I couldn’t promise him anything other than that this was my life’s commitment.

  “All I can promise is our devotion to each other and the arts,” I said, reaching for Ivan’s hand.

  “So it would seem,” he said and turned around. He hadn’t exactly given us a no, but he hadn’t give us a yes either. As he pushed the exit door, he didn’t so much glance back at us as much as called over his shoulder. “Monday. Nine a.m. at Focal Pointe Studio. Be there.”

  CHAPTER 24 ~ Leo

  Ten fucking days! I’ve known this girl ten fucking days and I’m in fucking misery. Pure, unadulterated misery.

  “Leave her be,” Ivan shouted as he shoved me out Joffrey’s front doors. “That was the audition of our lifetime and you probably just ruined it for us. She’s going to lose everything! Her dreams, her career, her fucking apartment!”

  I let him man handle me down the concrete steps. I had no fight left. It was gone the minute she chose him over me. All the fighting I had done for her only moments ago. All of it. For nothing.

  Ivan rubbed his forehead in frustration and dropped his arms down to his sides, looking down at me sadly. “You’re going to leave her even worse than Blake.”

  He shot me one last vengeful stare and turned to stride back into the building leaving me bereft on the front steps of the performing arts building. I sat down and cradled my head in my hands.

  She’s going to lose her fucking apartment.

  You are fucking up Addy’s career.

  Her apartment? Her career? I knew nothing about this girl. Thinking back to the cocoon of sex, lust, excitement, and—hell…maybe not quite love but sure as shit getting there fast, I wondered what I’d been thinking. Was I that off? Was I that out of touch? Whatever it was that I had in my grip this morning that I thought was so special and so profound…was all ruined. Now I was in the middle of a fucked up cluster of heartache and self-pity. I felt like I’d aged twenty years.

  If that prick, Ivan, would have stopped the shit he was pulling after their dance finished, I could have contained myself. Watching them dance and play out every fucking emotion I’d been feeling since Adeline Parker came blazing into my life was painful as hell.

  It nearly killed me.

  But that kiss that he gave her. That intimate kiss was him staking claim on something that was very much not hi
s. Adeline wasn’t even mine yet! She was her own person, and I wasn’t about to sit there and let that guy piss all over her just like Blake had.

  You’re going to leave her even worse than Blake.

  “Leo! Leo!” my mother cried, coming out of the Joffrey doors and breaking through my internal warring.

  I stood up and stormed down the steps onto a busy New York City sidewalk covered with people. I’d been avoiding her for over a week, and now I knew why.

  “This is your mother speaking. You will stop when I address you!”

  I stopped dead in my tracks on the sidewalk and people swerved around to avoid running into me. My shoulders rose and fell rapidly as my heart rate thundered beneath my chest.

  “I see why you haven’t been returning my calls!” my mother said, coming to stand in front of me. Her brown hair and eyes matched my own, but her face was tight, a result of thousands of dollars worth of enhanced help. “It’s obvious your little tabloid display wasn’t just a drunken mistake.”

  I eyed my mother harshly, attempting to ignore the flash of pain I felt at the jab to Adeline and I being just a mistake. I could already feel my heart breaking. “Mother, now is not the time.”

  “Leonardo Richards. Our family expects a lot more from you than that horrid display you put on in there. If the press would have been there… You’re no worse than she was on Friday night prancing on stage in fishnets!”

  “You don’t even know her!” I snapped defensively.

  “I don’t need to! I know ballet. I respect ballet. The art of it was desecrated by the display she put on Friday night and Joffrey will not stand for it. Richards & Brown will not tolerate it, which is why we are revoking her scholarship.”

  “What?” I asked in utter shock. My mind reeled with that unexpected information.

  “Yes, Leo. Perhaps if you’d return my calls I could have told you that Adeline Parker is our scholarship recipient that transferred up here from south side Chicago. She was a student there and was offered a spot at the prestigious, well sought after and highly competitive Joffrey program. She had the opportunity of a lifetime with our scholarship and she blew the whole thing with that little stunt she pulled last week.”

 

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