The Heart Of A Dancer

CHAPTER 6

"Isnt odette blonde?"
"It doesn't matter now does it?"
"Maybe... Well I guess not."
It sounded simple but I knew it meant much more to him than what it implied. He was always this way, a mirror of me- forever fearing to let everything out, scared of judgement from those around us. So I waited for the rest patiently.
"So how do you think everyone will take it?"
Turning to him I allowed myself a few moments before I spoke. " what? That I am not going to be Odette this year but rather Nikiya, from La Bayader?"

Receiving nothing more than a hmm I continued. "It is my decision at the end of the day. What I choose to do with the plays, who I choose to be in them... Everything about it is supposed to be my decision. when everything is over and done with its my baby... Is it not?" unable to keep the string of doubt out of my voice.
I sat down on the ornate desk in the powder room looking down at him on the floor. It was late into the night and it seemed as if the taught of sleep evaded our taughts, as we moved around the house together acting as an un dividable unit. It was nothing unusual...it was just a long forgotten action.

"It is yours to do with as you please... But under the guidance of the board members. You know how easily they are swayed, you know how harsh and unforgiving they can be at times. I just want you to be prepared for a retaliation ari."

It was true, and when the truth finally hit home as I saw it reflected on his face, I sighed and relinquished, he was hitting the nail on the head once more and I was given the choice to admit it to myself or live in denial.

"Its hard to please everyone... And its even harder when its all you want to do. Is there something wrong with me, for caring so much? So much and to receive so little?"
Taking my hand he led me out of the room and up the stairs. I knew the twists and turns of the house like one knows the tricks of their favourite game. And like many games the best is always on the higher levels. Greyson pulled me down to sit next to him as he brushed his fingers over the keys of the piano. He sat here frequently composing songs that always left me breathless. But it was when he played them for me that I could do nothing but break a little bit more on the inside. It was the old songs, the timeless classics- that stole my breath and left me weak but wanting more,-that he played for me... To show me that there is one more person that would always be there for me even when it doesn't seem so. He is there waiting to fix, correct, heal and protect me from everyone and everything even myself.
It was the one thing that kept me from completely believing that I was so totally broken that I wasn't salvageable by any means.
And as he began to play I rested my head on his shoulder resisting the call of Ludwig Minkus to dance my heart out.
He played it because he knew when I heard it again i would remember the beauty I found in it the very first time.

Unable to resist I moved away from him and went for my shoes he kept in the black cushioned glass box. The first time I placed them in I asked why glass and worse why a black cushion? It shocked me when I heard him say" glass for when I look at you i see you as fragile as glass can be and black for although fragile you are stronger than your label, maybe because like the color you try to let no one see your beauty."

Shoes on, laces tied, I danced from corner to corner of the room. The pains I felt were not those of a tired dancer but those of a tired heart, so tired it didn't even recognise that it was on the brink of destruction. The music no longer registered in my taughts... Nothing did, it was the freedom I frequently seek and rejoiced over when I got it.

It was such freedom it was dangerous. As he joined me on the floor I knew once more how dangerous it was, for until he touched me I was oblivious to his presence. But in his arms, with him leading me, lifting me, guiding our movements it wasnt as dangerous anymore.

***
"Why not pink?"
He sat on the chaise looking ever hopeful at me.
Having boosted my mood we decided that a trip to the shop was in order.

Smiling I turned and asked "why pink?
"It shows the true side of you..
The innocent side of you, the softer side, the side I see."
"Well there you go, that's why its not pink ." along with everything that I inherited, one of the many things my mother was proud of was her clothing line. I now showcased its new designs as proudly as she would, for this was one of her babies.

"Come on ari, change the color let them see your creations, let them see you in another light."
"And then what? Let them believe I've gone soft and that they can use it to their advantage?"
Sighing he rose from his lounging position and came to stand beside me, motioning for one of the assistants to come over. Indicating the gown on the mannequin at the center of the dressing room, not having to explain to her what he needed of her, She moved to do his bidding having heard the stump we are in from her not so subtle eavesdropping.
It was a casual hug from behind that slowly turned into an embrace so intimate it was scandalous. But it wasn't only that it was a comforting action it was that i missed it so much I ache for more.

"It wasn't perfect before, but in time it could have been." I said this quietly. I said it more to myself but he dropped kisses on my head as he looked at our reflection on the mirrored wall.
"That is what I want to believe as well. But it wouldn't have been, it would have destroyed us ari."
I wanted to say something to tell him he was wrong that.... But even I knew there was no truth to those words. They were like empty promises from a lover never meant to be yours.
We didn't know each other then but we sure did love the idea of each other like moths to a flame disregarding the danger they were in so captivated by the way it danced.

"Which do you like the Irish or French in you ari?"
"I don't know really. The two confuse me sometimes."
" you won't be you without both."
It was the throat clearing that made us both turn, although still very much holding on to each other.
It wasn't the black I wanted, but it wasn't the pink he insisted on either.
"This isn't what I was thinking but maybe just maybe I was wrong and its all right... For this is perfect ari!"
It sure was something but perfect may not be my choice of word. Maybe more along the line of escort's apprentice, or junior seductress in training. Those could all work, but it would fall on deft ears for I was surely leaving with it.
Its only because I have no urge to waste time agruing over it.
And nothing to do with the way he looked at the dress then me with a gleam of approval in his eyes, pulling me in, begging to be lost in them.
"You never led me wrong before, so have them send it over to your place and I will pick another to go on display."
Turning around I started to make my leave stopping only to smile when I heard what he was saying.

"Eavesdropping is a bad habit, unless you are doing it for me and certainly never do so on my conversations it could end very bad indeed.
Now let's get started."