Calore Dance Academy// Red Queen AU

Chapter 88

Hi all! Another chapter before summer ends. I'm about to start college again, so my update schedule will again be pretty uncertain. (Isn't it always?) Still, I think that this chapter is a good one. I do want everybody to know that this story is very dear to me and will be finished eventually. It would be a tragedy any other way.

As always, I hope you all are doing well. Best wishes to a great school year! 

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Everything's falling apart.

I tell myself that none of it matters anyway, that I've found a clean ending that begins as a ballet soloist in Europe. Cal and Maven and all the other Academy dancers don't have to be anything more than a nice dream, a little string of memories that never had a possibility of being real. Or permanent, at least. Maybe I can even fix things with my family when I come home after Europe.

As per usual, my body feels stiff at Blonos's barre. Mornings are always like this. My muscles will loosen up in time, re-accustom themselves to stretching and jumping soon enough.

Yes. This morning is like any other. Iris ties her pointe shoe ribbons on the other side of our barre, some of the Corps girls gossip about God knows what somewhere behind me, and Ptolemus flirts with Wren across the way. It's just about nine o'clock, and Blonos prowls between the barres as piano notes ring through the air and the last dancers filter in.

A gentle, warm hand brushes against my forearm. I turn around to regard the man who's appeared across the barre, squeezing in between Iris and one of the Corps guys. I wonder if he notices how my eyes sort of flinch, landing on the wall behind him.

"Mare," Cal starts, peering at me. "Can we go talk for a minute?"

He moves to rest his forearms on the barre. It looks like a casual gesture, but I know he does it to compensate for our height difference.

What does this man want now? I almost tell him that he can wait, that class is about to start, but there's some urgency about him. Cal presses his lips together, and his shoulders look oddly tense. Cal's never tense. Ever. Still, I can't handle any more substantive conversations with him.

"I don't think—"

"Can I get everyone's attention, please?"

My gaze travels up, nearly skyward, to find Anabel's figure waiting on the balcony. She looks like some sort of corporate woman in her black dress slacks and dusk-orange blazer. Or rather a queen, regarding her subjects below. To my surprise, she already watches me with those older, formidable eyes of hers.

The room dulls to a quiet, the pianist continuing for a few counts too long before awkwardly halting. Stopped nearby, Blonos just looks onward at Anabel, waiting. On the other side of the barre, Cal seems to cringe.

"My grandson and Miss Barrow have been working on a pas de deux together. You know, it's good practice for the both of them when Mare is coming into her role as a Principal dancer and Cal's partner is still recovering from a terrible injury."

There's something not right about the way that Anabel calls Cal her grandson. Like Maven doesn't exist at all.

There's something even worse about the rest of her words. They feel like some sort of justification, like Cal and I shouldn't be dancing together, like it's possible to cheat on a ballet partner by dancing with somebody else.

"Now, I would really like to see their dance. The balcony pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet has always been a favorite of mine. Mare? Cal? Will you dance for us, please?"

There's something strange about the way she speaks, and I can tell that others feel the same. Through the mirror behind Cal, dancers shift on their feet, raise their eyebrows, and wait silently. When I let my own gaze scrape Cal's, his eyes look a little panicked. He mouths a "Sorry." I see. Cal wanted to give me a heads-up. Still, he doesn't turn away to look up at Anabel or answer her question, only staring at me expectantly. Letting me decide.