Prima - Alta Hensley Page 0,14
out for you? No matter how many showers you take, your name is still being dragged through the mud. What are you going to do about it?
The voice in my head was annoying but, by God, it was honest as well. I was done cowering and attempting to let the hatred slide off me. I needed to stand up for myself. To make these people see I wouldn’t be pushed around.
I slammed the shower curtain open and grabbed hold of my towel before stepping forward with anticipation and rage coursing through my veins. “Why don’t you ask me, rather than talking shit behind my back like a little bitch?”
I was surprised to find myself looking at Bella — one of the women I had danced with earlier. She’d given me a huge hug, telling me I danced like an angel, and now she was talking about me. Only little bitches did that.
At first, Bella looked a little shocked, like she might cower away from me. But then she seemed to realize her companions were staring at us, and she needed to back up her big mouth with more than the vitriol she’d been spewing.
“I think we don’t need someone like you dragging us down. I think you’re bad news. You always have been, and that’s the end of it.”
“Don’t you fucking get it?” I asked. “I’m not that naïve girl anymore. Haven’t you ever made a mistake? Haven’t you ever trusted someone and then discovered they were the devil in disguise?”
My fingers clutched the towel around me as I shook. From fury or shame I wasn’t sure, yet I knew I had to speak my piece regardless of the outcome.
Looking from face to face in the growing crowd, I asked, “Haven’t you grown the fuck up? Or are you still a kid who blindly swallows whatever shit she’s spoon-fed?”
I wished everyone would understand. But of course that wasn’t going to happen. I could hear my babushka reminding me words were not sparrows. It was an old Russian proverb that basically meant once words were uttered, good or bad, they flew away and couldn’t be caught.
I might as well be speaking to a brick wall. Strands of my wet hair slapped against my skin as I shook my head. “Forget it. Believe whatever the hell you want.”
I tried to turn away and walk off. But evidently not content with acting like a bitch, Bella deliberately pushed against me, almost knocking me down as my feet slid across the wet floor. I sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to act like a fool, but it was too late for any rationality. Anger raged within, and it was slowly eating me up alive.
I spun back, clenching my fists, ready for a dance of another kind if that was what she wanted. Unlike the leaps and twirls we’d done on the stage that barely had me breaking a sweat, I was prepared to knock her the fuck out. But before I could get so much as a return shove in, Yuri walked into the room — the choreographer and co-owner whom I needed to impress. I really couldn’t get into a catfight right now. Not when I hadn’t even signed the contract yet.
Instead of moving forward, I leaned back against the wall, trying to get control of myself. I needed to learn to keep my temper under control if I was really going to attempt resurrecting my career. It was going to get a whole lot worse than some two-faced bitch talking shit behind my back, and I was going to have to let it brush off me. If I lost my temper every time someone acted like an idiot, then entering the ballet scene again was going to be the biggest mistake ever.
“What the hell is going on here?” Yuri asked, temper lacing his tone of voice. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re in here fighting? I suggest you save the energy for rehearsal. I promise there isn’t a soul here who can rest on whatever fucking laurels you might imagine having. Is that understood? Not a single one of you!”
The way everyone stepped back with an odd look of fear in their eyes was a little strange. Were they all scared of this guy or something? Was he more of a dickhead than he first seemed? When Yuri realized no one else was answering, he tapped me on the shoulder and indicated for me to follow him out of the shower