Cage of bones

2.

Tobirama

"Stop fidgeting!"

"I'm not fidgeting."

I was fidgeting. I didn't know what to do with my legs. They were all over the place. Downside of being tall.

The seats were generous, however. Plush, red velvet on a golden frame, matching the golden interior and heavy curtains of the theatre. It was beautiful. And the stage was gorgeous, heavily decorated without being tacky.

"How long is the ballet?" I whispered to Hashi.

He leaned over towards me.

"Two hours."

Oh, for fucks sake. I tried to remember I was supposed to be grateful and didn't say anything out loud, yet it was hard. Spending time with Hashirama was nice, but sitting still watching girls and boys in tight costumes on stage for two hours without being able to say anything and without popcorn would be a challenge.

Rather this than his fucking party, I tried to tell myself.

I sighed and sagged down in the chair, slung one leg leisurely over the other and crossed my arms.

Then, the lights went out, and I would find myself begging for the show to go on for one more hour, for two more hours, five more, several days, a lifetime...

The first fifteen minutes were actually okay. They were good; I could tell they were not called the number one ballet company in the country for nothing. Maybe, I didn't hate ballet as much as I thought I did. Maybe, I had just adapted a dislike of it as part of my personality because it was expected of me, just as flirting with boys was.

Suddenly, Hashirama leaned over and whispered to me.

"Watch this. I've heard a lot of rumours about the man about to come on."

At first, I didn't see any new man coming on stage. There was a few new girls, though, and one of them stood out.

This one was shorter than the rest but not as frightfully thin, and she was a lot more flexible and clearly stronger. She was contortionist-bendy and did things with her body that made me gape.

Maybe, I'm straight.

Then, Hashirama leaned in again and whispered.

"He's been raising a lot of controversy." He? "Not only because of his body type, but because he's using his excess flexibility in a very graphic manner on stage. Some hate him for it."

It's a he...

When I realised, everything else around me disappeared.

I could hardly even begin to fathom the things he was doing with his body. He was dancing beautifully, but somehow it was also provocative. Each line was sickeningly perfect, each movement made just on time, his face a perfect display of the array of emotions his characters required. I was beyond delighted.

"Enjoying the show?"

My brother was teasing me, but I didn't hear him. Instead, I had sunk down so low in my chair I almost lay down, grabbing the armrests harshly, digging my nails into the gold-pleated wood. My legs were splayed; fuck trying to sit appropriately at my height.

When he went off the stage, I leaned forwards and to the side, trying to follow him with my gaze for as long as I could. I didn't even notice when the lady next to me tutted and even if I had, I wouldn't care. It was all about him.