Apollo (Contemporary Mythos Book 2)
Apollo: Chapter 3

“Why can’t the studio get with the times and e-mail us the casting results?” Kate said as we walked through the company parking lot. “Welcome to the twenty-first-century people.”

“I know, right? I get horrible flashbacks of high school when the director would slap the paper up outside of the gym.” I snickered. “Everyone trampling over one another to get a look at the list. Good times.”

“Not me. I was too busy learning how to play the violin when I wasn’t dancing.” Kate rolled her eyes.

Color me intrigued. “I didn’t know you played the violin.”

“Because I quit.” She bumped her butt into the front door.

I frowned. String instruments were such a weakness for me. As a kid, I wanted nothing more than to learn how to play one, any of them. It wasn’t because my parents disapproved. My fingers wouldn’t move the way I wanted them to, but it didn’t stop me from trying time and time again.

The foyer was filled to the brim with all company dancers waiting for the directors to tape the illustrious piece of paper on Studio A’s window. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Any guesses on what this innovative performance they’ve been mum about is?” Kate asked, leaning on a nearby wall.

I shrugged. “Maybe a ballet set entirely to Prince songs? I saw a ballet group in Chicago do that once.”

“Prince, huh? Was it like watching sex on pointe shoes?” Kate giggled.

“Now that you mention it—kind of, yeah. At one point, the dancers even had skin-colored leotards on.”

“Here it comes,” a random dancer shouted.

Like herding cattle, everyone swarmed at the window, except Kate and me. We hung back, waiting for the chaos to fizzle. Jamie and another woman hugged while doing perfectly timed jumps. She remained put together, even in celebration. How nauseating.

“No surprise there,” Kate mumbled.

We made our way to the list, and I didn’t bother looking for my name under the principals. Right there in alphabetical order, I was listed as the second dancer in the corps—Kate directly beneath me.

“Corps sisters for life.” Kate held up a hand.

We high-fived, and I wrapped my arms around her, imitating Jamie but purposely jumping like an idiot. Kate laughed and jumped off the rhythm with me.

“What the hell do you have to celebrate?” Jamie asked in a snide tone.

I kept one arm curled around Kate’s shoulders. “Having a personality.”

Kate sputtered into laughter. If she’d been drinking something, it would’ve sprayed all over Jamie.

Shame.

Jamie rolled her eyes with such conviction her eyelashes fluttered.

“Come on, let’s go find out about this genre-bending performance we’re doing.” I dragged Kate into the studio.

I slipped my leg warmers on and threw my bag in a corner. After a whole weekend without dancing, I needed to take extra time stretching. The barre called to me, and I rested my ankle on the top row, leaning into it.

“I realize there may be some disappointment flowing around with the lack of principal roles in this new production,” the director started.

Roy Collins. I’d only worked with him one other time. He could be a real stickler about everything, right down to a row of people with their arms not at the same height. He was in his early sixties, with black hair that peppered at the sides. He had a bit of a gut, but kept relatively fit for a man his age.

“However, I can assure you, the corps in this piece is just as important. It’ll require an immense amount of teamwork and timing,” Roy finished.

Kate stretched backward, her head dipping near me. “Great. So much for waving a flower in the background, huh?”

“We’re going to have a guest musician performing throughout. They’ll be integrated into the performance itself, as well as lending additional music to the score.”

I dropped my foot. A musician?

“What kind of instrument do you think they’ll play? Bagpipes or something?” Kate asked, bumping me with her hip.

I bit my thumbnail. “I hope it’s the cello.”

“As long as it’s that duo. What’s the name? The two hottie brunette guys?”

“2 Cellos.” My mind raced with possibilities.

She snapped her fingers. “Yeah. 2 Cellos. Could you imagine? I’d have a hard time keeping count in my head with those two sharing a stage.”

Roy turned his attention on us. “May I continue, ladies, or would you like to finish your conversation in the hallway?”

Kate threw her leg back up on the barre and buried her face in her knee.

“Sorry, sir,” I said.

“As I was saying, the musician will be a part of the company so long as the performances run. They’ll be at every rehearsal. I expect all of you to treat them with the same respect as you direct toward each other.”

If he only knew half the drama that ensued between members of our company. That’s what happened when they brought in a director for a performance every few years. The only one of us he was familiar with was Jamie. It made a world of difference when the director knew each dancer’s technique, strengths, and weaknesses.

“He’ll be joining us later today,” Roy added.

Kate and I perked up at the same time.

“He?” We mouthed to each other.

“In the meantime, I’m going to introduce the choreography for the final number. You will all dance in unison as one cast with no principals. I’ll give you an additional ten minutes to warm up. When you’re ready, find your name taped on the floor for your assigned position.”

“What if it is 2 Cellos, Laur?” Kate dropped to the floor and spread her legs.

I followed her and pushed my feet against hers, reaching for her arms. “Roy said he, not them. So, I’m going to say no.”

We held onto each other’s forearms, and as one bent forward, the other leaned back. The director snapped his fingers, signaling us to our feet. He introduced a combination of moves that was like any other classic ballet I’d performed. So far, where the pioneer dance style he kept harping about was, I didn’t know. There was nothing unique or innovative about any of it. If he intended to drag out the suspense, it was working.

“Everyone, it’s at this point I want you all to perform a triple pirouette. It has to be perfectly timed. We’ll practice it three hundred times if we have to. Every arm should be at the same height. Every foot landing at the same moment.” He twirled his hand in the air. “Pretend you’re one being.”

“I think he’s going senile,” Kate whispered.

We all prepped our arms and feet, rose on pointe, and performed the three turns he demanded. We were so out of sync I almost laughed out loud. Not one person landed simultaneously, and our arms looked more like an abstract painting rather than in perfect alignment.

“Again,” Roy commanded.

I threw myself into it.

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep voice resonated from the studio door.

Not just any voice. His voice. Ace’s. I forgot to whip my head around to spot for the last turn, stumbled off pointe, and fell into Jamie. She shrieked, and we toppled to the ground.

Several others ran to our aid, while Ace stood firm, folding his arms with a grin. “Well, I’m used to women falling for me, but not in the literal sense.”

“Ladies, I assume he needs no introduction, but this is Ace from Apollo’s Suns. Our guest performer,” Roy announced.

The women surrounding me reverted to teenagers, giggling and whispering as they stared at the rock star.

I stood up and kept my back turned to him.

I was in the corps. Maybe Ace would never ever see me, right?

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Ice Queen herself.” His presence loomed over me like a harsh shadow.

“Ah,” I started before turning on my heel with a flick of my chin. “The pompous ass.”

“Miss Berg,” Roy chastised from across the room.

Ace leaned forward, clasping his hands behind his back. “Ooo, you’re in trouble.”

“Sorry, sir.” I narrowed my eyes at the new thorn in my side.

Out of all the musicians in existence.

“Ace will accompany the performance by playing the guitar. If he’s up for it, I also hoped he’d do a small dance number with the principal dancers.”

Jamie bit her thumbnail, rising on pointe and accentuating her neckline. I fought back bile working its way up my throat.

“Up for it? Dancing is my second love.” Ace glanced at Jamie but then focused his sultry gaze on me.

As thin as my leotard was, it suddenly felt stifling.

“Ladies, let’s show Ace what we’ve been working on thus far.” Roy smiled. “Perhaps it’ll give him some inspiration for his performance.”

Nerves prickled over the back of my neck. Dancing was my sanctuary. It didn’t need to be intruded on by the walking embodiment of conceitedness.

The classical melody played over the speaker, and I closed my eyes for a brief moment. Ace wasn’t here. I’d repeat it to myself for the foreseeable future. Raising my arms to the appropriate position, I opened my eyes, dipped my head back, and flowed into the first of several combinations. Keeping the focus on my job was the only saving grace to distract from the company’s new addition. What was he going to do anyhow? Strum a few guitar riffs and take his shirt off?

The music moved into the finale. It was time for us to do our triple pirouette out of sync. It’d take weeks before we would all master it, minimum. I went up on pointe and readied for the three turns. When my head whipped around for the first time, I looked for something to spot. Ace’s face appeared out of nowhere, his eyes squinting with mischief. It was too late. Until I landed in my finishing pose, I needed to spot his smug face another two times. On the last turn, I floated my arm upward, delicately flicking my wrist and extending my fingers.

Roy beat his fist against the podium. “Decent. We’ll get better. Take a ten-minute break.”

The clock hanging on the back wall glared at me from the reflection in the mirror. I was going to be late for work—again.

I ran over to Roy, running the back of my hand over the sweat collecting on my brow. “Permission to be dismissed?”

Roy cocked an eyebrow over his squared reading glasses. “Excuse me?”

It came to no surprise he’d forgotten our arrangement. “Several weeks ago, I told you tonight was the only night I couldn’t take off from work. You said it would be fine as long as it was the only rehearsal I’d miss?”

“Ah, yes. This will be the only one, correct?”

“Yes. I’ve already squared things away with my boss.” I glanced at the big hand of the clock ticking away.

He shuffled through papers on his clipboard. “Very well. See you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.” I did a hitch step, scampering over to my bag, and ducked into the hallway.

Tossing my bag on the nearest bench, I yanked it open, grabbing my shirt and shorts. After undoing my pointe shoes’ ribbons, I slipped on the shorts, and in the middle of pulling the shirt over my head, a presence loomed.

“Where are you sneaking off to?” Ace asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

I ran a hand over my hair to smooth out the frizzy parts. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to work.”

“Aren’t you at work?” He pointed at the studio with his thumb.

Laughter erupted from my core. “Ballet? Work? You’re hilarious.” I tossed the strap of the bag over my shoulder.

He dragged the tip of his thumb under his bottom lip. “Metallica, huh? Wouldn’t have pegged you the type.”

“What band should I like? Apollo’s Suns?” I smirked, tapping my foot and looking at the clock.

“Why not? And didn’t you get a shirt from the concert?”

“My friend bought me one despite my protests, yes.”

He half-smiled. “And you’re not wearing it?”

“Pretty sure it’s tossed into a corner of my closet somewhere. Where things go to die.” I narrowed my eyes.

He chuckled and bit his lip. “I know you like our music. You can’t lie to me. You were one step away from moaning in the front row.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Sunshine. I’m going to be late. Have fun in there surrounded by women. I’m sure it’s like heaven on Earth.” I rolled my eyes, turning away.

“It’ll only feel like heaven because you’re not there. It’s a relief, honestly. One day of reprieve.”

I tossed a glare over my shoulder. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned, waved, and disappeared into the studio.

I loved dancing. I loved ballet. This was a minor setback.

After climbing into my car, I turned the radio until it landed on my favorite rock station. The Memory Remains by Metallica blared through the speakers. How ironic.

“Sing to me, Hetfield.”

And make me forget all about Ace Too-Cool-For-A-Last-Name.

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