Fight For You

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It felt like it had been forever since Genevieve had stepped foot in the Beacon Hills Dance Studio, although in reality it had only been about a week or so. She'd missed a few classes for a while due to werewolf complications, but as soon as she'd settled into life with Satomi's pack, the older alpha had insisted that Genevieve do her best to maintain a normal and stable life, which included picking up her old hobbies again.

Not that ballet was a hobby for the small redhead. It was an escape. It was freedom. It was a chance to break out of her anxieties and out of the crazy supernatural world around her. It was a dance to turn up the music and move, letting her limbs take control in a way they rarely could these days.

Walking into the building with her ballet tote bag slung over her shoulder, Genevieve inhaled slowly, relishing in the crisp air-condition processed air, the fluorescent and mildly unflattering lighting. By some miracle the studio was nearly empty after school, with most classes not resuming until later in the week, giving students time to settle into their new school routines before throwing dance class stress back into the mix. But Genevieve needed this. She needed to dance before she lost her sanity, still slightly on edge from the previous night's full moon.

After slipping into her usual black leggings and an old worn t-shirt, once bright yellow now heavily faded, Genevieve made her way into an empty studio, one of her old classical CDs clutched in her hand, ready to pop it into the battered old boombox sitting in the corner. This was one of the first and only CDs she'd ever owned, a gift from Lucas when he first heard she was taking dance classes. He hadn't even technically been her foster brother anymore, already several foster homes apart by then, but he'd been careful to keep in touch. He'd always done what he could for her.

The memory tugged at something inside as Genevieve looked down at the CD with a frown. She knew Ariana was still furious with Lucas for hiding such a huge secret, and Genevieve was definitely hurt too. She'd felt the cutting sting of betrayal as well, and she was happy to hold a grudge too, after all she was an expert there, but she knew Lucas. He wasn't all bad. He couldn't be. He had to have his reasons for his secrets. If anything, after reconnecting with Ariana, Genevieve knew that she couldn't take his actions at face value. For all she knew, he had a perfectly good reason to hide his secrets. She just wished he'd reach out again, even just to her. But he seemed to assume she was in the same boat as Ariana, so he'd kept distance from the two of them.

Sighing, Genevieve clicked play on the boombox, turning up the classical piano melody until it was loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Genevieve's eyes drifted closed as she danced easily around the small studio, her feet moving her without a second thought. It was if the music was carrying her, letting her leap and turn, not bothering to think about what she looked like.

It didn't matter. The important thing right now was the feeling of freedom, the dance letting her slip out of her body and into an old memory. She was no longer a terrified werewolf, daughter of two dead alphas. She was just Genevieve, a tiny ballerina with the ability to jetè slightly higher than before, her werewolf abilities enhancing her agility just slightly.

She wasn't even sure how long she danced for, letting the tracks on the CD blur together as she moved, barely stopping to take a breath. She was cut off though when the music was abruptly shut off with a click. Turning around sharply, Genevieve felt her jaw drop as she spotted Ursula Donati standing next to the boombox, arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her pretty face. She was wearing the dance school's standard black leotard and sheer stockings, her dark hair pulled into a tight ballet bun and she looked ever the professional dancer, making Genevieve feel incredibly underdressed and shabby.

"What are you doing here?" Ursula said after a moment, raising one eyebrow. "I have this room booked. For myself. As in no one else allowed," she added as if it wasn't obvious, her arms folded across her chest as she eyed Genevieve's shabby attire with a look of disdain.