Helena

By the time class was over it was already 10 o’clock. Frank pacifically whipped us into exhaustion because tomorrow would be a day off. If a dancer stops stretching or stops practicing for even a day, they fall behind. The body must be constantly worked to keep up with the rigorous exercise.

This is why it is very bad for someone to have an injury that does not allow them to dance, it makes them take time off. They fall behind, they become weak. The process to get where you were before is brutal.

I carried myself back to the living quarters, dragging my feet across the grass. I had took spare clothes and showered at the studio to avoid bathing in Gerard’s house again. I was still a little freaked out.

The door was unlocked when I stepped in. I hung my coat up and slipped out of my shoes. I looked around the corner, no one seemed to be there. They must have all went to sleep.

I tip toed up the stairs but was stopped half way, a voice startling me.

“Helena,” Gerard spoke.

“You scared me,” I sighed in relief.

“Apologies. I’ve been waiting for you.” He smiled up at me.

“For me?” I blinked.

“Yes. Come, myshka.” He extended a graceful hand to me. I placed my hand in his, following him hesitantly into his living room.

Before me was a bed of soft velvet pillows, carefully arranged in front of the blaring fireplace. In the front a small array of fruits and cheeses was displayed, two wine glasses on each side.

He pulled me towards the pillows and I halted.

“Wh…What is all this, Maître?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Have a glass of wine with me, there is much I would like to discuss.” He glanced at me under dark long eyelashes, a playful smile appearing.

“That is very kind Maître. But I must be going, it is very lat-“

“Sit, Helena.” He ordered.

“Yes.” I nodded, shuffling uncomfortably and taking a seat inside the pillow circle.

“Wine?” He poured a glass.

“Yes, Thank you.” I accepted the glass, bringing it to my lips. The warm red liquid brushed against my tongue, an extraordinary flavor peaking in different spots. I let it slide down my throat slowly, cherishing every second, it’s warmth filling my stomach.

I was always a fan of wine, in Europe it was common to start serving wine with dinner at around the age of 12. This built a tolerance, taught young adults to drink so they wouldn’t lose complete control in the future.

“Is it to your liking?” He asked.

“Yes, what is it?” I stared in awe.

“Fragolino. It comes from Italy, its a strawberry carbonated wine. Hard to find in New York.” He grimaced.

“It’s lovely.” I smiled.

“I’m glad you think so.” He grinned.

“So… You would like to discuss?” I tilted my head.

“Yes. Your performance today.”

I took another sip of wine, waiting for him to continue talking.

“I’d never come across anything like it, far exceeded my expectations. You brought a new nature to the role, turned it into something much more.” He closed his eyes, as if thinking back to the memory.

“Thank you, Maître.” I blushed madly.

“Ah, There it is.” He reached forward and pressed soft fingers to my cheeks.

“This was it, the virginal blush. The way your body reacted to the touch of another, as if never having been touched before. It made the dance more sincere, as if your partner was much more than just a man winning your trust and affection back.” He smiled warmly.

“But Rosie’s technique was executed flawlessly, far more advanced than me. I made many errors.” I noted.

“Indeed. But Rosie is a mature dancer who is no stranger to a man’s touch. she is not right for the role. This role calls for such immaturity. Not so much virginal, but youthful. Naive.” He remarked.

“I wouldn’t doubt your knowledge of it… I’m sure you know her very well. But I think she isn’t as old as she seems, at least to other people.” I sighed. His eyes widened and he looked away.

“I do apologize for involving you in personal affairs. That was not meant to happen. She should have never laid a finger on you.” He sighed.

“It’s alright, Maître. I just hope you know what you are doing.” I grimaced.

“Can you elaborate on that?” He asked.

“I just… Rosie is a better dancer. Many of the others do not find it fair that I dance instead. They accuse me of having sexual relations with you as well.” I shuffled around uncomfortably.

“They’re envious, Helena. They will always say that. This is just part of the industry, surely you know that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. I do… But for Rosie to accuse me as well. Did she have reason to?” I frowned.

“I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, I’ll admit. But that’s in the past, I’m not keen on mixing work with personal life any longer.” He shrugged, taking a sip of wine.

“I see, I’m sorry for prying.” I nodded.

“No worries, If anything you were caught in the middle.” He smiled.

“On another note, I’m giving you the lead.” He took another sip of wine.

“What?” My eyes widened.

“Yes. But I would like to ask you something personal, only if I may.”

“Of course Maître, what is it?” I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I did not expect to get the lead. It’s a principal role, my first. I looked to the dark haired man, my ears open to any question he might have.

“Are you a virgin?” He said simply.

I felt my stomach clench up. It was a strange question indeed.
“Yes.” I nodded.

“And… today. Was it your first time kissing someone?” He asked.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Tell me about it.” He folded his arms, laying on his back with his attention fully on me.

“I’ve done many kisses for ballets at my school.”

“But have you ever had a real one? Not staged?” He frowned.

“No. I guess not.” I shrugged.

“The lead role entails a scene where you will be naked, but the first show is months after you’ve turned 18 so legal issues aren’t present. Are you sure you can do this?” He furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“Naked? All the way?” My eyes widened.

“Yes.” He nodded.

I thought about it for a minute. It would be very scary, possibly humiliating. It’d be exposure to the whole world, to all the critics. My body.

“I… I don’t know. This is a wonderful opportunity, but it does sound scary.” I bit my lip.

“You are Helena Pavlova. Nothing should be scary, remember that.” He smiled.

“It won’t be ‘pornographic’?” I grimaced.

“No. You’re simply naked, as is your partner.” He shook his head.

“My partner as well?” I frowned deeply. This caused him to start laughing.

“Yes. Does that make you nervous?” He smirked.

“A little…” I blushed.

“Have you never seen a naked man?” He raised an eyebrow.

“In paintings?” I scratched my head.

“Oh dear…” He looked around the room, contemplating something.

He stood up, a serious look crossing his face.

“Everything alright?” I tilted my head.

“Of course.” He began to unbutton his shirt. My jaw dropped and my hands shot up to my eyes. I could hear him chuckle.

“Y-You don’t have to do this.” I stammered.

“Maybe not. Prove to me you can handle it, and I’ll give you the role.” He replied.

“Is this not illegal?!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, it is.”

“Then?” I grimaced.

“It’s only illegal if you tell. Will you?” He chuckled.

“N-No. But are you not embarrassed?” My face warmed up.

“No.” He shook his head.

“Well I am!”

“Then you can’t handle the role.” He said seriously.

I uncovered my eyes, looking up at him. He was still fully clothed, a few buttons undone.
I took a deep breath and clenched my jaw. I had to grow up sometime.

I stood up and walked closer, my fingers brushing against his shirt. He watched me intently, his mouth sealed shut.

I unbuttoned the rest of the shirt, pulling it off. He was pale, with muscles clearly defined. He had curved hips and lacked chest hair, very slightly resembling a woman. He was beautiful.

He looked into my eyes, unbuckling his belt and pants, never once looking away.

With a thud I knew his clothes had fallen to the ground, I didn’t dare look down.

“Look at me.” He said low.

“Are you sure?” My face was scorching hot.

He grabbed my hand and slowly brought it to his body, starting at his chest. My breath hitched as he went lower and lower. I tried to retract my hand but he brought it back, placing it on his manhood. It was softer than I’d ever imagined, but massive. More so than a god damned painting.

I looked down, biting my lip fiercely. It was like the rest of him, pale, slender. He let go of my hand, taking a step back. My eyes shot back up to his face. He was holding back a smile.

“Are you alright?” He said softly.

“Yes.” I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat.

I turned in the other direction as he put his clothes back on.

“See, not so scary. It’s just a body.” He said to me.

“I touched you.” I hissed.

“You’re mentally prepared now.” He shrugged.

“Thank you… for your concern, Maître.” I grimaced.

“Anytime, myshka.” I felt his hand touch the top of my head.

I turned around to see he was already fully clothed.

Notes

sorry updates were on hold, i was in italy and then there was a hale storm and shit got cray cray !! judgement day and ghost of you should be updated later today

tell me what you guys think <3