Page 4

Half an hour later, I drag myself down to the basement locker room to wash up before my tutoring session with the trainees. My footfalls echo against the aged gray tiles, my mind still reeling from my failure of a practice just now.

“Taylor, are we still on for tonight?” a sweet voice asks from behind me.

“We’re so excited!” another voice chimes in.

I stop and turn around, seeing the familiar blonde hair and wide grin of Ainsley and the shy smile and dark brown tresses of her best friend Maddy. They remind me of better days—me and Alexis roaming the halls, wreaking havoc.

Their twin smiles falter when they see the cuts on my knees. These fifteen-year-olds miss nothing.

“Are you okay?” Maddy asks.

I swallow a wince. “I’m fine—fell during practice earlier. This is nothing. But this might not be the year for me to get picked to be Odette/Odile.” Swan Lake is an annual performance for us and I hope to get the main role, but it’s obvious I’m not ready.

Maddy frowns. “You’re one of the best dancers I’ve seen. You’ll get it someday, I know it.” She purses her lips then hesitantly asks, “So um… Are we’re still on?”

I nod and watch the tension melt from her shoulders. Ainsley and Maddy are trainees, both here on scholarship. They show a lot of promise but need help outside the regular curriculum to polish the rough edges in their technique.

“Great! Thanks for tutoring us on the side. I know you’re busy with your practices and everything.” Ainsley grins.

“Don’t mention it. But you guys better work your asses off—I won’t be taking it easy on you.” I nod toward the locker room. “I’m going to change and I’ll head over shortly.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ainsley mock salutes and dashes away, dragging her best friend with her.

Maddy looks back and gives me a hesitant wave before disappearing down the hall.

My lips twitch into a smile, my earlier dark mood receding. They remind me of myself when I was younger—eager, hardworking, hope emanating from them that poverty couldn’t stifle.

I’d do anything to preserve that spark in their eyes. A warmth settles into my chest as I push open the rusted metal door to the locker room.

A group of dancers huddling by the antique boiler stops talking the moment I step inside, their eyes narrowing into slits as they take in my tattered state, and my mood immediately sours.

“Look what the cat dragged in…an orphaned stray.” Carla, their bitchy blonde leader and my nemesis, snickers and her group of lemmings giggles behind her. “Can’t afford new tights and shoes, Tay Tay? Why don’t you get yourself a sugar daddy?”

She pauses, no doubt for dramatic effect. “But then, who’d want an extra for a vampire movie as a sugar baby? You’d probably murder him in his sleep.” The girls cackle loudly.

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” I growl and yank open my locker, watching in dismay the contents inside tumbling out onto the floor.

Dammit. Grace always told me to organize my things as opposed to living in a tornado.

“How do you thrive in chaos, Tay?” She giggles and nudges me before heading off to work. “Aren’t ballerinas supposed to be disciplined?”

I smirk. “Chaos breeds inspiration, Grace. I’ll have you know, I use all of my discipline in my art. Outside of dance is when I can let go. And I bet the authors of those sappy romance books you read live in chaos too.”

“Hey! No book-shaming allowed here.”

The girls snort as I pick up my belongings—papers, overdue bills, food wrappers, and God knows what. Ignore them, Taylor. They’re bullies and want a reaction from you. I sniff a balled up towel—a little threadbare but still smells fresh enough—and toss it over my shoulder.

“God, she’s so gross. Who knows what Madame Renoir sees in her.”

“More talent in my asshole than in your entire being,” I mutter, shoving the rest of my stuff back inside the rickety locker. The low pendant lamp swings from the ceiling, casting long shadows across the room—probably because of the kids pounding down the stairwell next door.

“Say it to my face, bitch.” Carla’s voice sounds closer. “You don’t belong here. Ballet is for the upper class, not for poor, motherless bitches like you.”

Anger churns through me as my temper gets the better of me. Fuck it. Restraint is overrated—why hold everything in when you can unleash it on those who deserve it? It feels fucking good too.

“Oh, I’ll say it to your face, you spoiled brat.” Squaring my shoulders, I spin around to face Carla and her goons and crack the joints in my neck. At five-foot-seven, I’m no shorty, and I’ve picked up some skills over the years to krav maga them flat on their asses.

“Hold your horses, Tay. Seriously, you’re going for a promotion. Don’t get into a fight now.” I smell the sweet scent of lavender before I see Lisa, my only friend here, other than Devon. Lisa is tiny, but her personality more than makes up for it.

She glares at the mob. “Carla, don’t you have something better to do you with your time? Picking on Tay won’t get you promoted.”

Carla snorts and flicks her dainty, manicured fingers in my direction. “As if I’d get my hands dirty.” She arches a thin, blonde brow. “Seriously, Lisa, why are you hanging out with her? You’re old money. Your parents are on the board.”

Lisa rolls her eyes and tosses her shiny brown hair over her shoulders. Ignoring her, she turns toward me. I smother a smile at the fierce lioness expression on her face.

She leans in and whispers, “Have you heard the rumors?”

“What rumors?”

“Change in management. The bigwigs are coming. Going to shake things up. At least, that’s what I overheard when Dad left his door open during his board meeting last week. Everyone is talking about it.”

I frown. “I haven’t heard a thing. But then again, I’m usually the last person to know anything. Will this impact us?” And my upcoming promotion evaluation? Cold sweat breaks down my back.

Lisa shrugs. “I have no clue. But apparently, it’s something about some alignment with some big corporation for some philanthropic endeavor. Something about an international ballet tour too!”

“That’s a lot of ‘somes’ in one sentence.”

She grins. “You’re hilarious . Har har har. You should be a comedian instead. By the way, you going out with Dev and me today? We’re trying a new club in SoHo. Lady of the Night.”

I arch my brow. “Let me guess. A hip, new place named after a flower. Is this a Fleur establishment?”

Lisa’s eyes brighten at my recognition of the largest entertainment and hospitality company in the world, famously headed by the Anderson family—royalty in New York, if not the entire country.

Ironically, it turns out I’m actually related to them. Grace found out a few months ago our missing-in-action-since-birth father is Linus Anderson, the patriarch. Apparently, he and Mom had a passionate affair a long time ago, but they broke up because he believed in some ridiculous family curse about the eldest son not being able to fall in love or else his woman would die. To say I’m baffled by this turn of events is an understatement.

So, this little ‘motherless bitch’ is now an Anderson. Fates are the ultimate jokesters. If only Carla knew—she’d shut her big mouth then.

But the masochist in me doesn’t want to tell her or the others at ABTC. Or perhaps it’s pride. It’s the Anderson family money, not mine. I’ve done fine my entire life without the Anderson influence.

“Come out with us. It’ll be the old gang at IBA together again.” IBA was the ballet academy we were all at before Lisa and I got accepted into Petite Jeté, a feeder school for ABTC, then eventually joining ABTC.

My eyes snap to Lisa’s and she falters, clearly realizing her mistake. The old gang.

“I-I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I mean, I know Alexis isn’t here, and Camden is an asshole, but—”

“Alexis left us and fuck Camden.” My jaw works. In some ways, the pain of my best friend ditching me far outweighs my boyfriend dumping me at the same time.

They left because they knew what happened to me. People can’t be trusted.

Lisa blanches and pats me awkwardly on my shoulder. She never knew why Alexis and Camden left. After what happened, I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone else. To Lisa, she thought Camden and I had a run-of-the-mill breakup, and Alexis and I had some sort of falling out.

I strain a smile, ignoring the pinch in my chest from the invisible scars. “Anyway, I can’t go out tonight. I’m tutoring the trainees in half an hour. They have a recital coming up and you haven’t seen them, Lisa. They’re a mess. They need all the help they can get. Then, I’m going home to watch Scream if You Dare. ” I clap gleefully, thinking about the over-the-top gory slasher film and the comfy sofa that’s waiting for me.

God, I love horror movies. They’re always a fun ride and the bad guy usually dies at the end.

She laughs, the color returning to her face, and shakes her head. “I don’t know how you watch these things.” Leaning in, she pokes me on the side. “And you’re a softy underneath all the prickliness, Tay. I see you.”

“I’m just doing what I wish someone did for me when I was younger. Ballet is a lifeline for these kids—their only way out of poverty. They get to see the world, join us on tours—it’s an opportunity of a lifetime for them.”

“See? That’s what I mean. You don’t have to do any of this and yet you do it without anyone asking. Like I said. A secret softie.”

I roll my eyes, fighting a twitch on my lips as warmth spreads through me. Lisa follows me when I head over to the sink.

After washing my face, I reapply a thick coat of my usual black eyeliner. Heavier makeup to draw attention away from my dark eye circles courtesy of my restless sleep at night. Adjusting my nose ring—a black skull today, because of the pissed off mood I’m in—I take in my appearance in the large and slightly tarnished mirror.

Raven-black hair piled high in a messy bun. Pale skin—no shit, since I spend all my time indoors practicing, full lips, and large, slate-gray eyes I now know are an Anderson characteristic.

Fly Harriet. Little beauty.

The ghost of my past whispers in my ears and I flinch, my face leaching of color. Acid sloshes in my stomach. I want to scratch my reflection in the mirror or tattoo something across my face. What did he mean by that?

I’m no one’s little beauty.

Releasing a shaky inhale, I turn to Lisa. “Have fun with Dev. You guys deserve a night out. Practice has been brutal this week.”

She grins, no doubt thinking about her doting boyfriend, the top male dancer in the company. “Fine. Don’t work too hard, Tay.”

“I won’t. Go. Get drunk. Have crazy sex.”

Lisa blushes before leaning in and whispering, “You can have crazy sex too if you date, Tay Tay. Maybe you need to come out with us so you can actually meet guys!”

Rolling my eyes, I shoo her away before turning back to the mirror. I wish I could be like her—date men, enjoy sex, and bask in love.

But nope. Love is definitely not in the cards, but I’ll reclaim my body and sex one day.

I snap on the thin silver cuff Alexis gave me a long time ago. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away when she left. As much as I hate to admit it, I miss her. We were four years apart, and she was like my older sister in ballet. I looked up to her and as I grew up, she became my best friend until she betrayed me. I miss being able to trust people—to believe someone’s love for me can be unconditional.

Fly Harriet.

I watch the invisible black feathers sprout from my skin. I scrub at them, but they’re still there.