Natalia Romanova was the golden child in the Red Room - the star pupil, the teacher's pet, the best of the best. Everybody knew it, including all the girls in her cohort, including Y/N Y/L/N.
But just as she was the favourite, Y/N was the least fav...
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11 years old
"Two more minutes, ladies. I don't want to see any slackers!"
I gritted my teeth as I continued to hold my position, the infamous 'en pointe' technique which required you to support all your weight on the tip of your toes in ballet.
It was my least favourite thing in the Red Room Academy, and that was saying a lot, but Madame B. was adamant that we master this technique amongst many others. Something to do with discipline, I assumed, like everything else in this hellhole was, and there was no going against it.
Unfortunately for me, my right foot began to cramp, making me lose my balance and hit the mat with a thud. I flinched when I heard Madame B.'s footsteps approach, expecting to be hit by the stick she always carried, but she simply yelled instead.
"You had two more minutes, Y/N!" she shouted, slapping her stick to the mat in the space beside my head, making me flinch. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you!"
Swallowing hard, I obeyed and looked up at her, ignoring the cramp and inevitable bruising in my feet. Her dark eyes were set in a glare as she stared down at me. The other girls were watching us both back and forth, but maintaining their technique.
"You're staying back," she told me, holding her stick beneath my chin threateningly. "I want three minutes from you. And if you so much as even stumble, you'll be giving me three minutes after every session for the rest of the month."
If I don't die first, I thought. This process was built to push out the weak – only the strongest made it through. We'd lost dozens of girls since my training began as a child, and everyday I wondered if I would be next.
"Of course, Madame B.," I said respectfully, nodding and avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry, Madame B."
She huffed and I watched her feet walk down the line of girls, no doubt inspecting every detail of their posture. I'd gotten pretty good at stopping the shaking whenever she scared me, but it still rattled my bones sometimes, and that was something I couldn't stop.
"Here," a girl's voice said, and I looked up to the see the girl who was stood behind me offering out her hand whilst still managing her technique.
She had bright green eyes, comforting as she nodded to me encouragingly. I wasn't sure I'd seen her before, knowing I'd recognise her bright blue dyed hair in a heartbeat. We weren't allowed to dye our hair – who was she?
I raised my hand to accept hers, but before I could be pulled up, Madame B.'s stick slapped my knuckles, making me snatch my hand away at the sting.
"She can help herself, Natalia," she snapped, eyeing me in the process. "Get up, Y/N."
