Page 84 of Pas de Don't
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Heather explained. “It’s just not a good fit.”
Heather had been looking at apartments for the last month, and she had run out of optimism about six crappy one-beds ago. She’d seen another today, and she needed it to be the one. She couldn’t stay on Carly’s couch forever, and finding a place now would mean she would have some time to get settled in before the winter season and theNutcrackermarathon began.
She stifled a yawn. Heather wasn’t sleeping well, and it wasn’t just the lack of lumbar support in Carly’s couch. The atmosphereat work was tense, to say the least. Mr. K was even frostier than usual, Jack’s coterie of principal dancer friends was devastated he’d resigned, and the gossip mill was churning. There were whispers Mr. K was under review from the board, which was not at all pleased he’d allowed the company’s star dancer to suddenly and inexplicably quit.
“He should be under review for being willing to overlook Jack’s behavior,” Carly had said, rolling her eyes over dinner last night, and Heather, her mouth full of noodles, had nodded in agreement. But they’d take what they could get.
“What do you mean it’s not a good fit?” Carly asked now, sounding exasperated. “You said it’s a good size, it’s got good light, good closets, good bathroom, it’s in a good location, and it’s a good price. Sounds to me like it’s...good.”
Heather shrugged. “I’m just having trouble picturing myself living there.” It had been true of all the other apartments, too, even the less crappy ones. Every time she tried to imagine arriving home there after a long day at the theater or waking up there in the morning to prepare for a new day of rehearsals, her brain produced nothing.
“You said that about the last four apartments,” Carly objected. “Even the one with the dishwasher.”
“I know, I know.” Heather fiddled glumly with the hem of her dress.
“Please don’t make me kick you out,” Carly said. “I love you, and I want to hang out with you all the time, but I also want my couch back. Please. I love you. But just sign the lease.”
“I...I don’t want to,” Heather said flatly.
“Well, what do you want?”
What do you want?Heather looked down at her bare feet and thought about the last time someone had asked her that. She sighed as the memory of that first morning with Marcus swept over her, making her insides ache with longing. She wanted the same thing she’d wanted when she’d woken up the final morning and found him gone. She wanted to talk to Marcus. She wanted not to havehurt him or lost him his job. She wanted him to admire and want her again, so much he’d do stupid, risky things to be with her.
She wanted Marcus. She wanted him, and no amount of good light or closet space could make her forget that.
“I want to fix things,” she said, getting slowly to her feet. “With ANB.”
Carly eyed her closely. “With ANB? Or with Marcus?”
“I don’t know. Maybe both? All I know is I don’t think he deserved to be fired over what we did. I don’t think any of those dancers did.” Maybe she could fix that for him, even if it meant telling the world about the mistakes she’d made. She wanted to try.
“Okay, then.” Carly’s tone was all business, but she was smiling. “Sounds like we need another plan.”
Moving day dawned bright and cool, and Marcus awoke in a room bare and full of boxes. The only things unpacked were his bedding and the clothes he’d left out to wear today.
He yawned widely, screwing up his eyes against the light flooding through the curtainless windows, and stretched his body beneath the covers. It had been weeks since he’d done any exercise beyond walking and packing, and his body felt like it belonged to someone else entirely. Several times he’d considered going to a drop-in ballet class, just to take barre and feel like himself for a few minutes, but he couldn’t seem to follow through with it. The pain of being booted from ANB was too fresh, too raw.
He certainly wasn’t going to a ballet class today, he thought as he leant over and plucked his phone from the two stacked moving boxes that served as a makeshift nightstand. He unplugged it from the charger and settled back onto the pillows.
He had several texts from Alice, which were probably questions about the plan for today. She’d agreed to help him, Davo, and his mum as they swapped living spaces and even agreed to help unpack them both.Thank God,Marcus thought. It was a huge job, and they needed all the help they could get.
But he also had several notifications that he’d been tagged in people’s Instagram posts, which struck him as strange. He barely used Instagram, especially since the video from the mountains had gone viral.
Alice, 7:43AM: Have you seen the story in the Morning Sun?
Alice, 7:45AM: ???
Alice, 7:57AM: OMG wake up!
The last message contained a link to an article in the paper. Marcus tapped on it, wondering sleepily what had Alice in such a tizzy. As soon as the story loaded, Heather’s face looked back at him, and his stomach gave a miserable jolt. Her features were sharper in this photo than they were in his dreams. Sharper, more beautiful, and harder to look at. He was about to close the story when the headline caught his eye, and his curiosity got the better of him.
‘THE BALLET WORLD IS SLOWLY CHANGING’:
BALLERINAHEATHERHAYS GETS REAL
By Ivy Page, Senior Arts Reporter
Sydney’s ballet enthusiasts were dazzled last month by New York Ballet principal dancer Heather Hays’s performances as a guest artist at Australian National Ballet. Hays, now widely acknowledged as one of the world’s foremost interpreters of the titular role in ‘Giselle,’ performed to sold-out crowds, at the same time as a video of her canoodling with an ANB dancer went viral online. This week, in an exclusive, no-holds-barred one-on-one, Hays opened up to senior arts reporter Ivy Page about backstage ballet drama and what really went down during her stay in Sydney. Hays spoke to theMorning Sunfrom New York City.
