Ripped Tights and Late Nights → Muke

seven;

i really rely on feedback to write this story so if you could please please please comment that'd be great (:

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The theatre that Britt is performing at is huge, and it's packed. Leah leads him to a seat near the front where Jake sits on his phone, the seats around him saved by his lanky outstretched legs.

"Where is everyone?"

Jake shrugs. "No one wants to sit next to a fourteen year old who'll be trying to beat level seventeen throughout the entire performance."

"How have you not gotten past level seventeen by now?" Michael asks.

"Zombies."

"I see."

He scans the room for a certain blonde, either Luke or Brittany, he's not sure. Either would be good. He spies them both at the same time Leah does and she pokes him in the side.

"Do you think that's a scout, Michael? Has she got scouts looking at her?"

"I don't know," Michael lies through his teeth. "Maybe? Do you want me to go check? Introduce myself?"

She shoos him up and out of his seat quickly, eyes trained on their daughter. So maybe he and Leah have been fighting almost non-stop for the last two years; subtly, in the background where no one but the ghosts of their romance can hear, but their children and their children's success in life means more than anything to them, to the both of them. It's one of the only things they can both agree on.

Michael catches the end of Luke and Britt's conversation as he slinks in beside his daughter. He acts like he understands what they're saying.

"Does your dance feature any penché's?"

Britt shakes her head. "Two arabesque's, one second and one fourth."

"While they're basic, it takes a little skill to keep them perfectly straight. Make sure you keep your arabesque's straight, and your legs aligned, or it will look off, all right?" Luke says, sounding more like her mentor than a stranger, though Michael can tell his daughter is soaking this all up. He's heard the same thing a million times from Brittany's dance instructor, but she's acting like it's all new information.

Michael doesn't understand a thing she's saying, but Luke's eyes light up with all the dance-talk. He leaves them to it and waits a few minutes for them to wrap it up and acknowledge his presence.

Brittany smiles charmingly and thanks Luke. Michael loves the fact that she's acting like she knows who Luke is, like he's some big shot dancer. He thinks that Luke would be absolutely perfect doing this for a job, mentoring kids and shaping them into perfect little dancers. "I need to finish getting ready, but it was lovely to meet you, Mr Hemmings!"

Michael waits until Brittany has skipped away before he turns to Luke. "Mr Hemmings, huh?"

"You're a fucking piece of shit, Michael," Luke says.

"What. Why?"

"You're making me lie to that poor little girl. There is no way in hell she is your daughter, she is too pure and sweet and lovely."

"You've known her for five minutes!" Michael defends. He's pretending that he's not hurt by Luke's words. Brittany is a teenager though, she speaks in sarcasm and incoherent grunts. The only time she's sweet and lovely is in public, he and Leah taught their kids how to behave in front of strangers.

The lights in the theatre dim slightly, which apparently is some kind of cue for the audience to sit down. Leading Luke back to his family, Michael resists the urge to grab the blond's hand. Sitting next to Leah, who's next to Jake, Michael sits down and introduces his wife to the man he's been fucking behind her back.