Yellow Roses // Thomas Shelby

Chapter Three

January 3, 1906

Be perfect.

I kept telling myself that there was no excuse to not be perfect tonight. All the other dancers were at their stations getting ready while I was staring at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths.

Be perfect.

I powdered my nose so it would lock in any moisture I had while dancing. Callahan was next to me, watching me apply the powders and lipsticks to my face. He doesn't have to watch me. He has his own stuff to do.

"Your father tells me it was your friend Thomas's birthday a few days ago," he attempted to start a conversation. I ignored it. I hate him.

"Mhm."

"So when it's his special day, he gets your company, but when it's mine, I don't?" He leaned closer to me, attempting to look me in my eyes. I didn't move them at all. They focused on the mirror.

"Mhm."

"Dammit, Nat. We're gonna end up marrying each other, so you might as well start acting like it now." He told me. I let out a small laugh and scoff while putting lipstick on.

"Theo, I think we should stop talking to each other." I got up when Ivanov called the role. His face had a look of shock on it.

"We won't." He grabbed my wrist, digging his nails into the skin. "If you try, I'll bring your father into this."

I pulled my wrist away, locking eyes with him. I didn't say anything, just walked to my instructor. He tied the corset so it wouldn't come undone, then sent the que for the music to start playing.

The violins started playing, so did Doc Shirley. I came out of the curtains, putting in a fake smile and walking on the top of my toes.

I focus on three things. My balance, my smile, and finding Thomas in the crowd. The front row seats cost the most out of all the seats. They cost 250 American dollars for front row seats. It's where all the millionaires sit. It's where the rich sit.

But low and behold, Thomas Shelby was in the center, watching the solo with a smile on his face. He was wearing his nicest pinstripe suit with a vest. Hell, he even wore the watch I got him days prior.

Theo came up behind me, grabbing my hips lower than he was instructed to. My breath hitched a bit, my smile faltered. Once I completed the jump, I was good as new. Theo held a smug grin on his face. I hate him.

Be Perfect.

The 20 other mediocre dancers came out onto the stage, giving me the que to go back and quickly change my skirt. Ivanov met me behind the curtains, giving me the dirtiest look ever.

"What is Theo doing? Grabbing you like that." He asked as we switched out the skirt.

"I don't know." I said as he was tying the drawstring tighter in my waist. He hummed in response, waiting the next twenty seconds for me to go out there.

The music was calm, settled even. Flutes played a tone in harmony to my movements. It was going to change in ten seconds to dramatic, brass music. That's where the jump is. I've practiced it thousands of times, but still get nervous when it comes.

I was at the center of the stage, bowing in front of everybody. I was the main attraction for the crowd. Flowers were being thrown on the stage as the curtain closed, and the last thing I remember seeing was Thomas's smile.

Theo walked back with me, trying to grab my hand. I shook him away. He kept following me. He doesn't understand what 'no talking' means.

He grabbed at my hand again, making me push him back. "Stop fucking touching me!" I yelled at him. His face said it all. His jaw hung open as I went backstage and put on a thinner skirt with an overcoat.