That name gives me pause. Where have a I heard that before?
But before I can focus on that, it’s swept away by muffled footsteps approaching the curtain.
“Let go of me!” Honor shouts. “I’m going to tell everybody about our little affair, Mikhail!”
The curtain moves like there is a scuffle going on just beyond it. Both of my eyebrows raise; the argument that Honor and Mikhail are clearly having couldn’t be choreographed better if they tried.
Honor rips the black velvet curtain and stalks out on stage, shaking Mikhail off. She is lithe and blonde, dressed in a white leotard and a filmy white ballet skirt. She’s followed by a desperate-looking Mikhail, his black t-shirt and jeans setting off his silvering dark hair. He glances at his audience, his lips twisting in a grimace.
“Let them all know!” Honor declares, sweeping her hand to indicate her audience. “Tell everyone what you just suggested when I told you that I was pregnant with your child.”
Mikhail glances at us, shaking his head. When he finally speaks, his deep timbre is heavily inflected with Russian or Ukrainian.
“Don’t,” he warns her. “Don’t make this public.”
I can see Honor practically vibrating with rage. “No? You don’t want me to tell everybody out here? What, are you afraid that word will get back to your wife?”
My eyes widen. I glance at Eric and see him mouthing, “oh shit!” to me. I nod. This is some really juicy drama, playing out right before our eyes.
“You won’t get me to change my mind by telling a bunch of ballet students. Just have a scrape and be done with it!” he roars.
My hand flies to my throat. My jaw drops. I could be wrong, but I think Mikhail just told his lover to get an abortion. There have long been whispers about what happens when a prima gets pregnant.
I mean, you basically have to decide if you want your career to end or you want to continue dancing.
A hush falls over the whole room when Mikhail shouts that. He clenches his teeth, looks at the audience, and growls at us. “Grow up, will you?”
Basil straightens his spine, looking back and forth between the tearful ballerina and the fuming Russian. He raises his eyebrows.
“Relationships between dancers and stage managers are explicitly forbidden. Mikhail, you are her teacher, for god’s sake. And Honor, you should know better. You’re a student, no matter how much you advance in the company. If I am reading this situation correctly…” He gestures to both of them pulling his fist in tight. “We have a big problem.”
Honor lifts her chin defiantly. “I would say that we are beyond having a problem, Basil.”
Basil shoots her a glare and then turns back to his audience. “I think we will have to reschedule this for another day.” He glances at Emma and Chase, who look livid. “Will you please lead your class out of the theater? Mikhail and Honor, let’s go to somewhere more private.”
Honor shakes her head and storms off the stage. Mikhail casts a jaundiced eye over us as we are standing up, muttering to himself as he follows Honor.
As soon as we get to the theater doors, the whispers of my classmates burst to life. I hear, “Can you believe that she just outed them both like that?”
Then literally everyone is talking at once. I feel a tug at my elbow and find Ella there, giving me a wide eyed glance. She pats her elegantly pinned up hair as she wonders aloud.
“Could you imagine having the balls to sleep with the prima ballerina and then telling her to get an abortion?”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, I definitely can’t.”
Eric catches up with us, easily taking up my other elbow. “Holy shit. That was insane. I thought that they were both playacting at first.”
As we are herded down the echoing hallway, Ella wrinkles her nose. “I’ve heard that one in three ballerinas undergoes an abortion before they retire.”
I roll my eyes. “That can’t be a real statistic. I don’t know about you, but I was put on an IUD when I turned sixteen.”
Ella purses her lips at me. “Aren’t you a virgin?”
My cheeks flame red. I bow my head, my eyes widening. “I am not!”
A lie, yes. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve listened to my father’s explicit threats about what will happen if I ever sleep with anyone before I’m married.
I’ll kill him, Kaia. If any man talks you into being his slut, I’ll string him up and watch him suffer.
I duck my head. If my friends had the slightest clue about my home life, they would probably stop talking to me. I finally moved out of his house six months ago, but not without his scorn.
You want to be independent? Fine. I’ve tallied up the expenses of raising you and putting you through ballet academy. Do you know how much you cost this family? Three hundred and twenty five thousand dollars, Kaia.
I swallow. Three hundred and twenty five thousand dollars is a lot of money… and now that I’ve moved out of his house, that’s what I still owe my dad.
It’s the only thing I’m focused on at this moment, other than dancing.
I hastily sneak a peek at Eric, who looks completely unruffled by Ella’s revelation that I’m a virgin. He changes the subject, easing the panicked feeling in my chest.
“What do you think happens to Mikhail and Honor? Do they get fired? Or just get scolded?”
“Definitely fired. Ballet companies function with a level of trust. How can anyone at NYB ever trust either of them again?”
Biting my lip, I clear my throat. “That could be good for us, actually. I mean, that means more spots open up in the corps, right?”
Manon is just ahead of me. She turns her dark head at that, laughing cruelly. “Yeah, right. Let’s be real here. Your chances of getting picked to be in this company are basically zero. You should focus on finding a job teaching ballet at some kind of school for crippled children or something.”
My heart thumps in my chest.
Ella jumps right in before I can even really react. “You’re just pissed because your pill popping mom is in rehab again. Get a fucking life, Manon.”
Manon glares at Ella. “Back at you, Affirmative Action Annie.”
“Die in a fire, Barbie bitch,” Ella fires back.
“Watch where you—“ Eric says.
But before he can even get the thought out, Manon stumbles as she reaches the stairs. For a split second, it looks like she’s going to take a header straight down.
But at the last moment, Manon’s friend Roxie reaches out and steadies her. Manon sends us back a superior look, tossing her head and click clacking down the marble stairs.
Ella’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Entitled little priss. Anyway, let’s talk about Mikhail’s wife. Do either of you know who she is?”
I shake my head, absorbed in the drama. As we walk out of the New York Ballet, I’m just really happy that I have friends that will stand up for me.
6
Calum
Checking my watch, I consider leaving Emma’s office at the New York Ballet. I’m not accustomed to waiting for anybody, especially not for nearly fifteen minutes. I’m a firm believer that you teach people how to treat you.