The last move made the entire audience gasp. There was a moment of dead silence and then thunderous applause. J.J. leaned over and said, "That moment of silence is worth more than the applause afterward. It means you've nailed it." She was clapping as she spoke, and when the audience actually rose to their feet we joined them.
The girl curtseyed and was given a bouquet of roses by one of the earlier students still in costume. They kissed cheeks and then the ballerina took two of the long-stemmed roses out of her bouquet and handed them to Jason. He came forward, took the roses, kissed her hand, and then she insisted on bringing him forward so they bowed together. I didn't need anyone to explain to me that Alicia was showing that she knew she could not have wowed the audience without Jason's help.
He was beaming, eyes glowing, even as his chest still rose and fell from the effort of lifting and throwing her, and making it all look pretty and effortless.
J.J. said, "I don't envy who goes next."
I agreed and was glad it was a senior girl by herself. I didn't want to see one of our own guys compete with what we'd just seen. It seemed like a damned hard act to follow.
The senior girl was good, but she wasn't as good, and I sympathized that here at her last performance she had to know she wasn't going to nail it. I think that would feel bad.
But the next senior girl had Nathaniel Graison listed as her partner, and I actually found myself leaning forward on my seat. It was no longer about just the performance but how Nathaniel would feel after seeing Jason onstage. They were best friends and not competitive in that typical guy way, but still, Nathaniel was my other live-in sweetie and I was a little worried. Nathaniel, unlike Jason, had never been in dance class other than with Jason taking him. He'd been on the streets before age ten, and it had gone downhill from there. Nathaniel had been a prostitute, porn star, still was an exotic dancer, so he'd performed before, but not like this.
Micah's hand was tense in mine, and we exchanged a glance. Micah said out loud, "He'll be fine." But simply by his saying that, I knew he was worried, too. I realized it was more than just being in love with Nathaniel; because of his horrendous childhood we felt almost parentally anxious. It sounded stupid, but he'd never had a chance to be one of the little toddlers in their costumes seeing the parents smile. He'd missed so much as a child, and in a way this was him trying to experience some of what he'd missed. He hadn't expressed any stage fright about tonight. It was all just my nerves and Micah's apparently.
Nathaniel entered the stage hand in hand with his ballerina. The girl wore a filmy white gown around her white leotard so that it had the look of white and silver rags, elegant rags, and moved around her as though it were breathing. He wore white tights but his shirt was of rougher material and loose around his upper body, even open at the neck. His shoulders looked amazingly broad, and the rest of him looked even better in the white tights, but that might have just been me. His ankle-length auburn hair was up in a bun at the nape of his neck. The ballerina's blond hair was cut short and flattened around her face like lace. From this far out in the audience his lavender eyes looked blue.
The music began and though it was ballet it was a very different kind. Jason and his ballerina had been about physical movement in space; they'd been flashy and technically great, but now we saw the difference. This ballerina and Nathaniel told a story. I didn't know the music and didn't need to, because they told the story with their bodies, their faces, and their hands. It was graceful and beautiful and they acted. It wasn't just dance, it was theatre.
It was a tale of lovers lost and found, and of some great tragedy. Nathaniel held her, but it was soft holding, as if their bodies melted into each other, and their gaze made the audience watch their hands as they rose above their heads so that those entwining arms, hands, fingers, seemed terribly important.
I'd known Nathaniel could dance, but as I hadn't known Jason could be elegant, I hadn't realized Nathaniel could do this. It was both amazing and wonderful, and made me feel the loss of what he might have been in his life if things had been different. Of course, he was only twenty-two. It wasn't like it was too late for him to change jobs. But it felt odd thinking that, as if Nathaniel not working at Guilty Pleasures would change things, as if the man I was watching swoon and dance onstage would be someone else if he did this every night.
He lay down on the stage and his hair began to unroll from the bun, but it was too sudden a change and I realized as she collapsed on top of him that the hair was part of the show, the emotion. His hair spilled out around them across the pale wood stage and something about the lights hitting it, or the color of gel used, turned all that auburn hair to red so it was as if they both lay in a pool of thick blood. She made one last futile gesture with her pale arms, and again something about the lighting put her in a pale, white glow so she looked almost translucent. It was a neat trick with the lights, her glowing and ethereal while Nathaniel lay in the richer reds so it was all death and violence and transcendence and beautiful.
There was another of those breathless silences as the lights faded so we wouldn't see them leave the stage. And then the audience was on its feet again, and it was wonderful.
"Oh my God," I said, as I stood there and clapped along with everyone else. Micah beside me was shaking his head. I wondered if he'd been thinking the same things that I'd been thinking.
Jean-Claude beside me said, "Our kitten has become a cat."
I leaned around Micah to J.J. "Tell me if I'm just in love with him, or was that amazing."
She nodded. "That was really good. With more time and work it could be amazing."
Another bouquet of roses was brought out for the ballerina. She tore her bouquet in half and handed it to Nathaniel, and made him bow with her.
Monica leaned around J.J. and said, low, but not so low that J.J. wouldn't hear, "And to think you get to take that home and play with it."
I must have turned pretty abruptly, and what I was about to say wasn't friendly, but Micah grabbed my arm and blocked my view of her. The look on his face was enough. It made me count to ten. But while I counted J.J. said, "You're going to take that from her?"
I looked at Micah. He said, "No, but easy."
I nodded. Jean-Claude leaned in to it all and said, "Is something wrong?"
I leaned over everyone. "Nathaniel is not an it, okay."
She made a little push-away gesture, but there was something in her face that let me know she'd baited me. The only question was, why?
Vivian on the other side of her had been utterly quiet through all of it. She was standing and applauding, but she wasn't looking at us. It was almost like she wasn't really here.
I reached past Monica and touched Vivian's arm. She startled and turned wide eyes to me. She was a wereleopard - you didn't sneak up on them - but I'd genuinely startled her. What was she thinking about so hard?
Asher said something to Jean-Claude. I caught enough of it to know it was French and that was all, but whatever he said, Jean-Claude looked less happy than I did about Monica. I watched Asher's face as he looked at the other man, and I knew that look. It was the same look he'd had when he tried to kiss Micah tonight. What the hell was wrong with Asher tonight? He could be pushy and a pain in the ass, but he usually had a reason that I could figure out. Tonight I was lost.
The next senior girl was Stephen's ballerina. I wondered how they'd top or even come close to what Nathaniel and his had done. But lucky for everyone concerned, it was a jazzy tap dance to some older Broadway musical number. The girl and Stephen were both in fedoras, white dress shirts with rolled-up sleeves, loose collars, unbuttoned vests, and belted dress slacks. Both of them had hair past their shoulders; his was curly and blond, hers was curly and brown. His suit pieces were black and hers were thin navy pinstripes.
The number was funny, with sliding pratfalls across the stage. They slid from one corner of the stage to the other, passing each other by inches. It was athletic, fun, and so different from the other two numbers that it worked.