by K. K. Allen
“Why do you do that? Shut me down when I ask a question you don’t like?”
I turned my attention to the weights, took a deep breath, and focused on my first push instead of her words. But when I finished, I knew I couldn’t just leave her hanging. The last time I did that, we didn’t speak for a month.
“Dirk sought me out through my record label. I was just a kid. Young twenties. Thought I was the shit after taking home my first Grammy from the release of my debut album. The music industry is a lot smaller than you think, and when Dirk learned I had all these original songs and a dream to go Broadway, he buddied up to me, convinced me I could trust him, and then we became partners.”
I started my next set feeling slightly liberated for opening up to Kai. I never talked about Dirk anymore, not even the good times early on in our partnership. Looking back, I realized how big of a fool I’d been for trusting him.
“But why Broadway? You could have written another award-winning record. What was it about the stage that made you give that up?”
I eased back on my last push until the weights were locked in resting position, then I looked into Kai’s light-brown eyes, practically glowing against the sky’s backlight. “I grew up loving the theater. My parents and I moved from Australia to New York when I was twelve, and the theater became our second home. You know when you go to a concert and the crowd is screaming and singing along during the entire damn set?”
She nodded, waiting for me to continue.
“That’s great and all, but the theater is the complete opposite. Every note, every spoken word, every movement, every aesthetic of the stage—it consumes the audience to the point they don’t even want to blink, breathe, move, speak.”
I snapped my mouth shut when I realized I was talking like I was in La La Land. I should have never answered her damn question. A flare of heat lit up in my chest. “Are we done with the interview now? I thought we were working out.”
Her eyes shot to me. “I was just trying to understand your background. You’re not easy to read.”
I let out a laugh. “Good. Trust me, Kai. You don’t want to understand me. I like to keep my past as far away from me as possible.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering, I walked a few machines down and gestured for her to take a seat. “Time for leg extensions.” I don’t know what ticked me off more—the fact that she was asking so many questions or that I felt a nagging urge to let her in and tell her everything.
She walked toward me while narrowing her eyes. “Are you really going to ignore me?”
I shrugged, turning my eyes from hers. I didn’t care if that was immature. She didn’t need to know about my past when I was working so damn hard to live in my present.
She sighed and looked around the gym. “I think I’m going to do squats instead.”
“We’ll do squats after so I can spot you.”
“I don’t need a spotter for squats.”
Now, she was being the stubborn one. My jaw ticced with annoyance.
“The way I do ’em, you do. Just sit down and do the damn leg extensions.”
She huffed before sitting in the chair. I started to reach over her lap to adjust the weight, but she held up a hand, her sharp gaze halting me as she stuck the safety pin through a weight to secure them.
My hands were already on the cushioned lap bar before she could get to it. I set it just above her thigh and turned the lever to lock it.
“I can do this myself, Sebastian.”
I smiled at the annoyance in her tone. “Why are you acting all hot and bothered now? Angry you have nothing to take back to your new friends to gossip about?”
She shot me a glare. “I have zero desire to talk about you with anyone.”
“Clearly, that’s a lie, love. If it weren’t for the cast gossip, you never would have heard about what happened back in New York. Which reminds me. I never did ask you who told you.”
Spots of pink dotted her face. “W-what?”
“Who told you I slept with Dirk’s wife?”
When she didn’t answer, anger roared in my chest. I was sick of the rumors, the half-truths, all of which made me the villain in the story. And whoever it was, Kai was protecting them. That pissed me off most of all.
“Word of advice, Kai. You really should stop believing everything you hear.”
Her jaw dropped. “I only brought it up to hear your side of it. You’re acting like I’m the one who started the damn rumor. Newsflash: I may have been clueless to all the backstage drama when I auditioned, but you had to know that cast members talk. I was bound to find out the truth sooner or later.”
“You don’t know shit, Kai. No one knows the whole story, and no one ever will. You know what Dirk wanted you and everyone else to hear. Congratulations. You’re just like them.” I swooped down to grab my workout towel and water bottle. “That’s all for today. I’m going for that run.”
I didn’t bother asking her to come along.
Chapter 19
Kai
Our first day off from rehearsals came that next Monday, and we were able to disembark and have some time to ourselves. After the intense silent treatment Sebastian and I had been giving each other since our workout, I was more than ready to take advantage of a little time away.
As soon as I got to the exit door, Wayne was right there to help me down the ramp.
“There she is,” he exclaimed, hugging my side.
I hugged him back, burying my cheek in the crook of his shoulder and relaxing instantly. Being back in my best friend’s embrace felt good, back on solid ground where the memories of the waves couldn’t touch me. But that comfort became muddled when we reached the dock and my eyes caught on a figure in black swinging a leg over his motorcycle and placing a helmet over his head.
Sebastian didn’t even have to try to look sexy as his tight black jeans hugged his ass when he scooted forward and started the engine. Or when he leaned forward before revving his engine and looking straight at me. At least, I thought he was looking at me. The shades covering his eyes did little to hide his intensity as his stare lingered in my direction. Then he raced off, the sound of his bike still fading when Wayne opened the passenger door for me to get in. I didn’t miss the look my best friend gave me either.
“So tell me everything,” he said while holding the door. “Starting with the hottie on the bike.”
Rolling my eyes, I climbed into his car and adjusted the seat. I hoped that was a sign he and Shane were still doing well.
“Nothing to talk about there, thank you very much. And how have you been? I see that I’ve been replaced,” I teased.
He grinned as the color in his cheeks told me I’d just nailed it. “Shane’s a tall-ass dude.”
“So,” I said, “is it official? Do others know about you two?”
Wayne shrugged. “Seems like Shane was the last to find out. No one’s surprised.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Poor thing. He probably wanted to make a grand entrance.”
He grinned. “Oh, he did and tried. Serves him right. Still want to hit up Gravity today? Shane is teaching a dope hip-hop class.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Unless you’re totally danced out.”
“No, I’d love to. Will anyone else be there?”
“The usual crowd. Everyone’s home this weekend for some dance convention tomorrow.”
I relaxed in my seat with a smile my face, at peace for the first time in a while. Without the weight of my lackluster income, my unstable dance career, and my unknown future resting on my shoulders, I finally felt I was where I was supposed to be, which was hard when all your best friends were rock-star entertainers making names for themselves in the world of dance. That was intimidating most days, and while everyone was inviting and friendly, I never did feel like I fit in.
But now… I had balance, I had a good job, and I had great friends and a home away from home named Gravity Dance Complex. I was nowhere near the top of my goal
sheet, but at least I felt I was headed somewhere.
“Tell me about the ship. You haven’t called me in a panic, so I assume you’re handling things well?”
“Things have been great so far, actually. I’ve been taking it all in, learning all about ship life, and busting my ass at rehearsals. But I don’t know. We have three weeks until showtime, and I’m already getting nervous.”
He cocked an eye at me. “Nervous about performing or the ship leaving port?”
“Both.” I laughed. “It’s kind of hard to keep the ocean out of sight like I’d hoped, but you were right about the Royal Athena feeling more like a small city than a boat on water. It’s massive. Everything I could possibly need is available to me. There’s entertainment everywhere I turn. I’ll practically live in the theater anyway. I think I’ll be okay. It’s just all a bit nerve-racking—that’s all.”
“That’s normal. What about the cast? You making friends?”
Sebastian was the first person who popped into my mind, and I cringed internally. He and I were far from friends. Every step we’d made in that direction seemed to vanish every time we started to have a serious conversation about his past. And I hated that. He knew so much about me already, from my fears to my current financial situation. It made me feel too vulnerable under his spell.
“Everyone gets along well, for the most part.” I flashed Wayne a smile, hoping to avoid the obvious elephant in the room.
Wayne narrowed his eyes knowingly. “And Sebastian. How are you two getting along?”
I pursed my lips, holding back my grin. “You were warming me up, weren’t you?”
He chuckled. “Did you really think I wouldn’t ask? After the way he was staring at you back at the ship? I assume you two have humped at least a dozen times by now. Any less and I’d be disappointed.”
“Try zero times. I don’t even like the guy, remember?”
Wayne made a face. “Woman, whatever.”
I waved a hand in the air, giving up the fight, and turned toward the window to enjoy the rest of the ride.
About an hour later, we pulled into the Gravity parking lot. The big brick building was a sight for sore eyes. Ever since moving to LA, I’d thought of Gravity as home. And the way everyone there had embraced me from the start solidified that I’d made the right choice.
Wayne hopped out of the car first and leaned in to get my attention. “Let’s go!”
I followed him through the back entrance, where the halls were bustling with chatter between classes. The energy was unreal. It always had been, since the first day I walked through the doors when I was eighteen and visiting with my college dance crew.
He led me down the hall, stopping for a few hugs and cheek-kisses along the way, until we reached one of the bigger studios near the theater. Two of the walls were pure glass with short sets of bleachers on each side. The next two walls were mirrors, reaching from the floor to the ceiling.
Two of my good friends, Lex and Amie, were the first to see me, and they screeched before tearing toward me to pummel me in a hug.
“Tell us everything,” Lex said, her eyes alight. “How are rehearsals? How’s the ship?”
“Oh my God. How’s Sebastian Chase?” Amie winked.
A snort came from behind them. “Good luck prying anything from her, guys,” said Wayne. “The piano god lives across the hall from her, and she claims they haven’t even humped yet.”
Shane wrapped his arms around Wayne from behind. “Says the guy who waited two years to hump me.”
Wayne’s face turned beet red while everyone burst into a fit of laughter. We all loved Wayne, but he knew what he was getting into when he decided to go after Shane. The guy was as brazen as they came.
“All right,” boomed Shane as he winked at Wayne and jogged to the front of the room. “Let’s get started.” When his eyes landed on me, they narrowed as he pursed his lips and pointed in my direction. “We have Kai Ashley in the house, y’all.” He waved me over, making me blush into my hands. “Give it up for our girl, who just scored the lead in a cruise-ship theater production of Angst and Grace—with the one and only Sebastian Chase, might I add.”
I wished he hadn’t added that last part, but I needed to get used to it. I was just the girl cast as the lead in a show. Sebastian’s name was the one that held weight.
The whole room erupted into applause as I jogged to the front of the room. “You’re up front today, girl. Let’s see you work.”
I beamed back at him. “Bring it on.”
Everything about the moment was what I’d dreamed of since first having learned about my love for dance as a little girl. After I moved in with my aunt and uncle in Maui, dance class became the one place where I could truly express myself. Every ounce of anger, sadness, and longing I had for my father was put into a rhythm that poured from my soul. It was the only therapy I’d ever needed growing up.
Shane’s choreography was a fast-paced, hard-hitting combination that meshed well with the girl-power anthem he had chosen for us. When the time came to perform in groups, my heart pounded like crazy. I craved this kind of energy, the kind that could only be found during a live performance or in the studio at Gravity.
“Five, six, seven, eight,” Shane yelled over the music.
I started moving, hitting each move so hard I knew my muscles would ache in the morning, but I didn’t care. My soul reacted to each beat like it was the bass, pushing everything outward—to the tips of my fingers, to each roll of my neck and every rock of my hips. Each move, while hitting hard and fast, flowed right into the next one until the very last beat.
* * *
WATCH: Run For Your Life
“Thank you so much, Shane. The energy was insane today.” I threw my arms around him and grinned, feeling like I could burst. “I needed that.”
“Any time, baby girl. Congrats again. I wish we could see you live.”
I pouted, wishing the same thing. But the entire cruise series was booked solid for the next seven months, so my friends couldn’t book a cruise at any point to see me perform.
“Do you really need to go?” Wayne asked when we walked into the hallway to make room for the next class. He was giving me that dramatic pout that made me feel all sad inside. I hated that we couldn’t book jobs together, but that just wasn’t the way the industry worked.
“Babe, you know I wish I could stay. I have a million things to do before rehearsals start back up tomorrow, laundry being one of them.” I made a face.
I really did need to do laundry, but my main reason for wanting to get back to the ship had everything to do with the fact that the theater was empty right then, and I wanted to get a feel for the stage without a crowd of dancers.
I smiled at my friends. “I’m so glad I got to dance with you guys today. It felt good. Really good.”
“Well, you look really good,” said Lex as she squeezed my arm. “You’re going to kick ass out there.”
Amie nodded, her eyes sparkling. “You were made for the theater, girl. You’re going to be brilliant.”
I didn’t know why my throat was tightening. I’d been dancing at Gravity for years at that point, but I thought I finally found a group of friends whom I felt totally myself with. I’d always told myself my time was coming, that I was just a late bloomer, but in that class, with that group, I didn’t feel that way anymore.
“Okay,” I said with a deep breath. “Love you guys.”
“Bye, Kai,” they all called while Wayne followed me to the door.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you back to the ship? It’s no problem.”
“No.” I waved him off. “You’re assisting Shane’s next class. I can make it back on my own.”
“That would be the most expensive ride share ever,” he said, handing me his keys. “Take my car. I can have Shane take me to the dock later. Just leave my key with security at the front of the ship.”
I took the keys and hugged him hard. “Love you, dude. I’m so
glad you’ve found your happy.”
He held onto my arms as he pulled away and stared me straight in the eye. “Now it’s time for you to go find yours.”
Chapter 20
Sebastian
My fingers didn’t just tickle the ivories—they danced recklessly and wildly while my heart staccatoed in my chest. I lived for the moments when creativity poured from my soul and came to life, filling all the empty spaces around. It was like magic, if only I believed.
By the time I was three years old, I could play all twelve major piano scales. By the time I was four, I was composing my own songs and playing for guests at my parents’ private parties like I was their own personal party trick.
“Play, Sebastian, play,” my mother would prompt me with a pat on the bum. And at the time, I was thrilled to. I learned at a young age how the piano had the magical ability to take me away to places as deep as my imagination would carry me. I could sit in front of the black box of sound for hours, days, weeks, months, until my fingers would bruise or blister or my arse would get sore. That was the only type of “noise” I was allowed to make in our house.
By the time I was twelve, I was frequenting the Broadway scene, thanks to my student discount. Twenty bucks for a front row ticket to Les Miserables—sold. I didn’t care that my peers made fun of me. They just didn’t understand. Most of the time, instead of watching the performance on stage, my eyes were glued to the conductor of the orchestra, the top half of his or her body peeking out from the pit, and their arms waving majestically through the air. If music was made of magic, then the conductor was the magician, and that was who I wanted to be.
When I first saw Moving Out, the Billy Joel and Twila Tharp musical, something clicked. That was the type of magic I wanted to create—a jukebox musical, with a set built around the musicians instead of on top of them. My musicians wouldn’t be hidden in some hole in the stage. I’d already been composing the music for Angst and Grace, but that was the moment everything clicked together.