“Nailed it!” Bronson high-fives me as I exit into the wing.
I grab him in an excited hug. This is our first time running the piece on the stage we’ll be dancing on. We watch Dash and Dahlia do their segment and Bronson marks backstage like he always does.
“Your stamina is up, Taye, in case you didn’t notice,” he tells me.
He’s behind me, marking while I stand, hands on my hips, watching the duet. Four other dancers watch from backstage, the official understudies for Limerence.
“Tell me about it. I haven’t had this much energy since I was nine!”
“You taking supplements or doing those B12 injections?”
“No, I’m just eating healthy. I eat every meal with Dashiell and make sure not to skip. My calorie intake is up, but mostly it’s being consistent and—”
“Feeling happy,” Bronson finishes for me.
My smile is huge and genuine. “Yeah, feeling happy.”
“It shows cause you’re killing it out there, and Tate and Cappadonna have noticed, according to the gossip mill.”
“Helps to have a great partner, too,” I tell him sincerely.
I love this part of the piece because Dashiell exits stage right where I’m waiting to go back on. He always grabs me and gives me a winded peck before Bronson and I start our final duet. I love to watch Dashiell dance, and I’m in awe of his talent and form. There’s something about a dancer fresh off the stage. Their energy is heightened, and you can feel the deep vibrations of their essence at that moment.
I hold my breath for Dash’s final jump sequence. The height he gets never ceases to make my jaw drop.
“Hey, baby,” he says as he rushes into the wings. He picks me up in his arms and lifts me.
Leaning down, I kiss him. “That was flawless,” I whisper.
“Break a leg, Sam. Tate said there are a few of the big wigs watching tonight’s rehearsal.”
I nod, absorbing the electricity that emanates from Dashiell. His charisma and confidence fill the whole auditorium. I think Dash is who everyone comes to watch, to witness greatness, his peak years, so they can tell their grandchildren they were lucky enough to see him dance live, in person, when they were young.
I pique turn onto the stage and fall into Bronson’s waiting arms when we reach the center. From there, we do a sequence of turns so fast and intricate that it never fails to make me nervous. But I pull them off without a hitch and we go in for our final lift that’s choreographed for me to fall into my lover’s waiting embrace. Dashiell and Dahlia return to the stage for the finale and we feel the surge of energy in the four of us as we close out the piece.
The small and scattered audience roars with enthusiastic applause and rise from their seats as we take our bows. When the curtains come down, we jump and scream and hug one another, congratulating each other for a job well done.
“I can’t believe opening night’s this weekend,” Bronson says.
“It’s been a journey,” I agree.
Dash comes up to Bronson and they bump fists and elbows.
“Koslova!” someone calls from the audience. The stage lights are still on, and the house lights have yet to come up.
I walk downstage, shading my eyes from the bright glare, mentally preparing myself for some rough corrections from the powers that be.
“Is that you, Tate?” I ask, unable to see anything.
The three dancers behind me are silent, holding their breath for a possible blow. Unlike the rest, Contemporary isn’t my strong suit, and I always feel like I’m faking it. Either that or I look so much like a ballerina when I dance that the audience doesn’t buy it.
“You murdered it tonight, Koslova. You’ve been holding out on me,” Tate says as he steps into view. “I want you to bring it like that for the performances.”
My body flushes with adrenaline at his words. I can feel the heat rise in my face from the praise; it means a lot to me to have my non-balletic dancing praised. Katerina would be furious, and if I still lived at home, a punishment would be awaiting me on my return. But now I go home to Dashiell and Lizzy, who will be ridiculously proud of me.
The understudies come onto the stage to hear if there are any major takeaways from tonight’s run-through.
“I will,” I tell him, my distress quickly replaced with a smile.
“Every show is sold out and the media storm is going to be huge. So rest up, dancers. That’s all I have for you tonight.”
The media storm is due to this being my first official public appearance. Dash has been doing everything he can to smooth over the fallout from the leaked pictures.
We walk off the stage hand in hand and I refuse to let the reminder of the drama we’ve been through dampen my mood.