Balance

Chapter 7

"Oh God, Zayn," Louis moaned, "I think I'm going to be sick."  The dancer was looking at his reflection in the mirror, fully decked out in proper dancing attire.  He had already gone through his warm-ups, showered and dressed for the day and it wasn't even 5 am.  Today was the big announcement: the company's production for the year and Louis was determined to be prepared.

Zayn had dutifully woken with his roommate, offering to make him a spectacular breakfast (which he probably should be starting on as opposed to soothing Louis' nerves, if he wanted to be timely).  He was sprawled across the bed, offering absent compliments and general assurances.  "You won't be sick, Lou; it's just an announcement."

Knowing his roommate's lack of dance knowledge prevented Louis from whirling on a heel and berating the boy on just how wrong he was.  It was not "just an announcement."  It was the decision by the heads of the company as to where the focus for the entire year would be placed.  It would determine how many dancers would receive principal roles, how many would be supporting and how many that left to chorus.

Depending on the selection, it could even hint at which dancers the instructors may have had in mind when they chose the ballet—Danielle would make a stunning Odette in Swan Lake, for example.

Louis sighed.  No, unfortunately it was not "just an announcement."  It was the make it or break it point for his entire year of dance.

Graciously ignoring his friend's faux pas, Louis smoothed out the front of his jumper.  He tried not to notice the way his hands were shaking, how pale his skin looked.  "Breakfast?" Louis prompted as the clock visible in the mirror shifted to 5 am on the dot.  

Zayn was stifling a yawn and, at the cue, he sat up a little straighter.  "Sure, Twinkle Toes.  What d'you want?"

"Maybe just some toast?" offered Louis, his displeased stomach in mind.  Zayn scoffed.  He was no cook, but he could do more than a few meager pieces of toast.

"Yeah, okay," Zayn responded with the intent of preparing an at least somewhat decent sized feast for his roommate.  He stole out of the room, though not before wrapping his arms around Louis' slighter frame in a reassuring hug from behind.  The dancer leaned back into the embrace, a soft smile playing on his lips.  Zayn may not know how big a deal the production announcement was, but he knew his roommate and could tell that the older lad was nervous.

With Zayn out of the room, Louis shifted into fifth position, scrutinizing his reflection in the full length mirror.  He paid particular attention to the way in which the tense muscles of his leg rippled as he flexed and relaxed a pointed toe towards his side, lifting it.  He was working the toes of his good foot, of course.  The other foot stood only to support, swollen ankle painfully obvious to the dancer.

The injury hadn't done well with the exertion Louis had attempted the day prior.  He had woken to it feeling more stiff and sore than ever.  It had taken ages of cautious stretching to lessen the pain to a dull ache and that was with the aid of painkillers.  However, one bright point, the swelling had gone down considerably.  Perhaps the raising of the injury yesterday at the studio compliments of Harry Styles combined with the ice Zayn helped administer when he had returned from his study group had taken effect.

Reminded, Louis made note to ask Zayn about the studious boy he had gone to see the previous night.  Maybe the story would serve as a very welcome distraction; he had forgotten to ask last night, with ministrations to his injury taking precedence.  With that goal in mind, the dancer proceeded into the kitchen, managing to walk with only a slight limp.  The brunet's attention was piqued at the sound of bacon frying and eggs being made to his liking.  The aromas of the masterpiece Zayn was creating swirled delectably through Louis' senses, warming him from the inside.  Louis smiled fondly.