The mood within the walls of the ballet company was palpable as Dominika entered it that morning, the usually quiet and mostly vacant lobby filled with clusters of students half-dressed in a mixture of street and stage clothes. The room hummed with conversation as Dominika weaved her way through the smatterings of people, anxiety pooling in the pit of her stomach. She scolded herself mentally, knowing the commotion was directly caused by the announcement they were all expecting today, and of course, somehow it had managed to slip her mind until now.

Today the final dates for The Sleeping Beauty were to be announced, which would trigger a final mad rush of dress rehearsals, costume fittings and the inevitable emotional and physical meltdowns across the board. Dominika listened carefully, trying to catch any dreg of conversation around her that would give her some idea of whether or not the dates had already been announced.

“…Rush must be crazy! It’s the first week of February, the city will be a ghost town”

“…plans are ruined now, there’s no way I can go home half way through rehearsals”

The first week of February. Dominika counted the days in her head and realized that was only three weeks away, but surely Mr. Rush wouldn’t have chosen such an obscure date for opening night. No matter how big the arts crowd was here, she simply couldn’t imagine many people trudging through the snow to see the ballet in the middle of the holiday season.

She slid through the double doors that led to the backstage area and down a long corridor to her communal dressing room, scanning the walls carefully as she went for any new posters that might hold the answers she was looking for.

As soon as she entered the familiar room, she was greeted with the same low tone of hushed, buzzing chatter as the girls in her troupe stood huddled together around a printed sheet of paper lying on one of the dressing tables.

“Domi!” Daphne called, spotting her the second she stepped into the room “check it out! Final dates were posted first thing this morning!”

Dominika dropped her bag and looped her pink pointe shoes around her neck, dangling by their satin ribbons as she leaned over the other girls to study the paper.

OPENING NIGHT: FEBURARY 10
FIRST STAGE CALL: 6PM

So she’d heard almost right, opening night was to be just over a week after the beginning of February, that gave them almost four and a half weeks. Would Gerard still be here then? Depending on the results of his aptitude test in a few days’ time perhaps he wouldn’t be. She felt deflated; so much of her motivation to pour hours of practice and refinement into her piece had been to make him proud.

“So soon” she murmured quietly, eyes still fixed on the paper in front of her.

“We can do it” Daphne replied, an edge of determination to her voice. Dominika held her gaze for a long moment before she nodded in agreement, brushing her fingers over the paper.

“We can”

The rest of the day passed quickly, Dominika floating through her rehearsal sessions and then her first costume fitting in a daze. She barely registered the odd prick of the tailor’s pins as they nicked her skin beneath the delicate fabric of her bodice, her thoughts filled only with her steps and sequences, carefully running each piece of her part in minute detail through her head.

Her last task for the day was a physiotherapy session by one of the company’s best therapist’s on an old injury that occasionally gave her trouble when she was really pushing herself. This particular therapist was native to her homeland, poached from the Russian International Ballet Academy years ago, long before Dominika had even joined the art. She greeted Dominika warmly in Russian as she entered the small, windowless room that contained nothing more than a therapist’s table and a small wash basin in the corner. Dominika dropped her bags in the corner and slipped off her sweatpants, tossing them to join the pile as she stretched her sore limbs. The dimmed light in the room was just enough to see the outlines of pastel bruises that marked the length of her legs beneath the thin film of her pink tights as she too removed those, hoisting herself up to the raised surface of the padded table.

Alenka glided to the end and examined Dominika’s ankle with care, scrutinizing.

“Still looks a little swollen” she murmured, delicate fingers prodding around her tender flesh. Dominika winced involuntarily.

“How does the joint feel this week?”

“A little better” she replied in her native tongue, “I don’t know how things will pan out over the coming weeks though, I’m worried it’s going to flare up again”

Alenka’s eyes flicked to Dominika’s, peering over the thick frame of her glasses.

“You need to learn to rest yourself, young lady, allow your body to heal and recover, you’ll grow stronger that way”

---

It was late in the night, the mountains looming black outlines against the dark sky as Dominika stood in front of her long row of mirrors, her chest heaving, ribs straining against the thin fabric of her leotard as she struggled to catch her breath. Her cheeks were pink and blotchy, her hair so tight against her scalp it made her head pound. Exhaling once more in a deep huff, she sank to the ground, folding herself to the floor as she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her cheek to the cold surface of the wooden boards beneath her. Her heart rate slowed in her chest as she concentrated on her breathing, trying to relax, counting the beats as they slowed in her ears.

She opened her eyes again to watch her own reflection in the mirror, the sight before her almost comical as she took in her own, lycra-clad figure slumped there in a pile on the floor. Dominika noted the dark circles under her eyes and for the first time in weeks allowed the feeling of fatigue that had been ever-lingering to overcome her, uninhibited. Every muscle of every limb ached, her flesh bruised in odd places from lifts and holds she wasn’t used to that had become an every day exercise. The exhaustion hung over her like a lead balloon, weighing her down into the ground until her whole body felt so heavy and she could fight no longer, closing her eyes once more, just for a moment.

---

Gerard woke with a start, fat droplets of rain beating against the panes of his window in the dark. Rolling over slowly, he ran his hand against the smooth cotton of the sheet, surprised to feel the space beside him cold and empty. He peeled the covers off, retrieving his t-shirt from where he had discarded it on the floor and pulled it over his head, padding curiously across the room to the sliding door of the bathroom. Beyond it, Dominika’s room was similarly cold and empty, and a tiny finger of fear traced up his spine before he could brush the thought away.

Now fully alert, he used the light from his cell phone to illuminate the hallway as he walked slowly down it, listening carefully. He checked a couple of the side rooms that were as vacant and quiet as the hallway before turning sharply on his heel, almost certain of exactly where he’d find her.

Sure enough, as he approached the end of the corridor, a single beam of yellow light was visible underneath the edge of the door to Dominika’s ballet studio. He curled his hand around the doorknob, ready to chastise her for pushing herself too hard, but instead the scene before him melted his heart right there in his chest.

Curled on the floor in her dance clothes, lay Dominika, sound asleep. Her head rested against her arms, her silken hair just beginning to escape the tight confines of her hairstyle. He padded across the floor softly, crouching down at her side; his fingers outstretched as if he wanted to touch her but stopped himself.

“Domi” he whispered. Her eyebrows furrowed in her sleep, but there was no reply.

He paused for a moment, deciding, before he gathered her up gently in his arms and hoisted them both upright.

She sighed quietly but with no further protest he held her close to his chest and flipped the lights off, closing the door behind him with his foot as he carried her out of the room and down the hallway to his own room.

Laying her softly against his duvet, he switched the lamp on, providing just enough light to see their surrounds. He stepped back for a moment to admire her there, the picture of beauty and ease on his bed before he set to work.

He rummaged through his drawers, locating one of his smaller shirts and draped it over the duvet next to her. His breath hitched in his throat as he worked carefully and quickly to slip the clothes over her head, casting them off to the floor and attempting to avert his eyes as he pulled the dark cotton over her bare breasts.

Gerard pulled the covers back on the bed and gathered her into his arms again, nestling her back down into the mattress and covering her with the linen, her body instantly relaxing into the newfound comfort. Satisfied with his work, he slipped his own shirt over his head and allowed it join hers, slipping into the lofty bed beside her.

“Gerard?” queried a soft, sleep-clouded voice. Quiet laughter rumbled in his chest as his arms found her form beneath the covers and pulled her close.

“Expecting someone else?”

“How did I get here? Did I fall asleep? Did you carry me?” she turned to face him in the dark.

“You were curled up on the floor of your dance studio like a little kitten, baby, I brought you up here”

“Oh”

He kissed the side of her neck gently, his voice soothing in the darkness, making her feel warm and safe.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, kid, you’ll burn out”

Notes

I'm BAAAAACK! Apologies for the long gap in updates, life has been crazy.
<3 <3 <3 <3