The White Swan

1.2

Natalia

"Oh come on Nat, you know I didn't mean what I said. I've been sorry for hurting you ever since the words left my mouth, can't you see that?" Blake pleads with her, but two full years of this bullshit has lifted the rose coloured glasses of her eyes and allowed her to see Blake for who he really was, a gaslighting man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

She stops her walk to her dressing room, after a performance that was going so good he had to come and bother her? "We both know that you're not sorry for what you did, you're only sorry because you found out I couldn't accept that behaviour. It's not the same." Natalia hissed, not wanting anyone to hear her being 'disrespectful' to one of the Royal Ballet's beloved principal dancers.

But after Blake tried to persuade her once again, she felt no other option to shut the dressing room door in his face. Not after cussing him out in Russian though.

She was particulary thankful that day that she seemed to be one of the only people there that was fluent in Russian.

But, no matter how tough a facade she put on, she was exhausted. Her role was all but minor and anything that had something to do with Blake always seemed to pull the last bit of energy left out of her. He was so blind, and even though she had tried, she didn't want to be the one to make him see.

Zachary

Being back in England was definetely a strange experience for Zach, he never got used to language while dancing at the Bolshoi, and even when numerous girlfriends had tried to teach him some words and sentences, he never really got the hang of it. Being back, close to where he was raised and where he had spent days upon days dancing, he felt comforted.

He got to see his grandma again, who he had already paid a visit too, all of his friends that had joined other companies nearer to home were finally in sight again. And it helped of course, that the Royal Opera House had offered to promote him to principal dancer. It definetely helped leave his soloist days in Russia behind with little to no regret.

He had only been back for a month or so, getting settled in and preparing for the next ballet that was to come. Practicing every day to keep is technique sharp took some time, but the days quickly became long and he took it upon himself to play the tourist in his own city.

When he was a few years younger and still living in England he probably would've laughed at the idea of visiting the tower of London or the Big Ben, but really, he hadn't much else to do. Which made him a bit sad too, none of the people at the company had made him feel particulary welcome, even if it wasn't their obligation to make him comfortable he couldn't help but feel like a bit of a sell out because of it. He had left London as soon as the Bolshoi offered him a contract, he went to White Lodge but didn't follow in tradition and immediately join the Royal Opera House after he graduated.

Maybe it was finally eating at his concious.