Yellow Roses // Thomas Shelby

Chapter Six

1908

James had apologized repeatedly for hitting me at the races. He said he did cocaine with Theo in the bathroom before the races even started. He said that caused him to act irrational.

I guess he did cocaine a lot.

He moved to Germany a few weeks ago to go live with his mother and father. I hadn't known, but James actually lived with his uncle here. He came to Small Heath because he wanted to experience the working lifestyle instead of erring everything handed to him like he did in Germany.

My father was furious at the boy for leaving me, saying that I should go with him and such. James was a nice person, but there was always something missing. It's like every time we were together, it was like a business meeting. Even when we fucked it felt wrong. I felt as if I was betraying someone.

Dance had gotten a lot more stricter. I was involved with ballroom dancing and ballet. My practicing partner is a man named Adam Jackson. He was about 30 with a German look. Blonde hair and blue eyes, about 6' 2". He wasn't anything special.

"Again. More rhythm." Ivanov said as i broke away from the man, catching my breath. I was drenched in sweat. Sweat was running off my finger tips. I had been practicing the same thing for the past eight hours.

I slapped Adam's hand away when he tried to restart the routine. "I'm done. I'm tired. And I don't feel like getting tossed on the floor anymore."

The routine has a couple of complex moves in it. There was one when he had to hold me up with one hand as I did a spin, and then I got brought back to the ground with ease. Adam kept fucking dropping me.

"Maybe you should drop a few pounds so I can actually catch you, Natalia." Adam put his hands on his hips, his German Accent coming through his mouth like knives.

"Did I fucking ask you?!" I yelled at the boy. He rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ. I've lost about three pounds today, just working with your lousy ass. Should go back to fucking ballet! At least I'd be in the fucking lead!" I yelled, going back to the room with the shower.

I didn't stop doing ballet, I just did it for money. I practiced ballet two times a week and ballroom four times a week. I get Sunday off. That's fucking it. It's miserable.

I started the shower, making it cold to even out the temperature of my body. I swear I heard the water sizzle as it hit my body.

My hands and legs were shaking, my muscles were spazzing. I sat down on the shower floor, letting the water wash the sweat off my back. I felt so relieved to actually sit down.

"Vallelonga." Adam tapped on the shower curtain, being courteous of my naked self and not looking.

"What?" I asked sharply, not wanting to talk to him. He's an ass.

"You did really well. Ivanov doesn't approve of even the best work. I've been dancing for twenty years. You're good." He told me I scoffed.

"I need to be perfect." I told him. I could tell he rolled his eyes about it. "Just get out."

"See you tomorrow, Vallelonga." He said as he walked out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I jumped at the sudden noise. I hated when people slammed doors.

After about ten minutes of scrubbing my body, hoping it would be clean. I felt like I would never be clean. All the hours I've put into looking like I do, and I never feel proud of it.

It was dark by the time I got out of the studio, carrying my bag with me. It had everything I needed for the day. Skirts, tank tops, tight tops, and every hair thing imaginable. It was a pain in the ass to haul around.