Chapter 1: Once Upon A Dream
Chapter Text
Today, they’d started at the end.
The wedding pas de deux was a key feature of The Sleeping Beauty, and it needed to be danced to perfection. So Beckendorf popping something in his knee during yesterday’s rehearsal made that a bit of an issue.
Percy had gotten used to his spot in the back of the room. He’d spent a week watching Chiron teach the choreography to Beckendorf and Annabeth, the two principal dancers who’d be leading the first cast. His job as Prince Desirè in the fourth cast was to watch and learn. And he’d watched his friend crunch his knee landing a jump and quickly learned not to do that.
Beck’s injury made today’s rehearsal a lot more interesting. Annabeth stood in the center of the room, blonde curly hair tucked into a remarkably still perfect French twist, hands on her hips as she caught her breath. She was wearing a white practice tutu and a pink leotard, just for the extra Barbie effect.
The company had checked once. If you googled Annabeth Chase, three rows down in Google Images you’d find screenshots of various Barbie movies - Barbie Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Dancing Princesses … And Percy couldn’t say any of them were off the mark.
Even sweaty and breathing heavy in rehearsal, she looked like she’d stepped out of some child’s jewelry box. She was all long legs with perfectly pointed feet, and long arms that flowed effortlessly with her movement.
Chiron had paused to give her and Jason a few notes. Jason was a nice guy, which infuriated Percy. He’d been one of the only dancers at City Ballet to make it into the company without going to the company’s dance school first. He’d come to guest in Jewels last year from Miami City Ballet and left with a contract. He was supposed to lead the second cast of Sleeping Beauty , but now it looked like he was set to replace Beck.
Well, if this rehearsal went well. The two had never partnered before, and already it was clear it might not be a good fit. Jason was too tall, even when Annabeth was on pointe. It made the partnering awkward and a little unbalanced. They were both great dancers, and they managed to make it look as graceful as they could, but something was off. Percy recognized the stitch in Chiron’s brow and knew he saw it too.
Not to mention, it made the whole thing overwhelming blonde.
And with Annabeth going through a public breakup with another blond ballet dancer who was always just too tall to partner her on stage, well … maybe it wasn’t the best look for the company or for her.
They ran the pas de deux again. It looked good, Percy though. He practiced some steps in the small space he had at the back of the room. As Chiron gave a note about fish dives, he listened attentively, before trying the move with Katie Gardner. She was his Aurora, another soloist like himself. She’d always made a good partner. They practiced the fish dive, and she dropped down without hesitation, the way Chiron had told Annabeth and Jason to, face heading towards the floor, counting on him to keep her afloat.
“Percy!” Chiron said. Percy placed Katie back on her feet before standing up straight. “Let’s see you try with Annabeth.”
Percy looked back at Katie, who smiled and nodded her head in the direction of Annabeth telling him to get on with it. His heart raced. He was usually very comfortable in rehearsal spaces. It was about making discoveries, trying new things, taking risks. But this, he knew, wasn’t a rehearsal. Dancing with Katie, that would have been a rehearsal. This was an audition.
“Hello again,” she said, taking his hand. They’d hardly spoken since last Spring. “Don’t let me fall.” There was a small smile on her lips.
Percy smiled, trying to calm his nerves. “I wouldn’t dare,” he said.
She’d looked happier since she came back, Percy noticed. She’d been injured last Spring, but the break for an injury turned into a leave of absence that lasted nearly nine months. She came back just in time for the tale end of Nutcracker in December. The Sleeping Beauty was her big welcome home ballet, the big ticket seller for their Winter season, with her name in all the programs, in all of the reviews, in all of the advertising. Annabeth Chase was center stage.
Being able to dance with her was a privilege. She was only a year older than him, but she had been in the company for a decade already. She had been offered her apprenticeship at sixteen. Percy had only been there for seven years, not earning his apprenticeship until eighteen. She was made soloist at the same time, earning her promotion right before her twentieth birthday. He’d watched her advance to Principal before he’d even gotten out of the corps. She was a rock star in the company.
So what the hell was he doing there with her?
He took his starting position on the other side of the room. As the music started, they walked slowly towards each other. Don’t forget the choreography, he told himself as he carefully presented his foot with each step, his arms extended, open and welcoming towards his “guests.” Just don’t forget the choreography, and for the love of god, don’t drop her.
He’d danced with her once. The previous Spring they’d been cast together in Jewels as the Diamond pas de deux, but she’d fractured her foot during dress rehearsals and never made it to the performance. A few days later, her wedding was canceled. At first people assumed it had been postponed so she could actually walk down the aisle, not hobble on crutches. But then her fiancé Luke resigned from the company, and every possible rumor spread, from pregnancy to ‘Annabeth is a secret Swedish princess and the royal family doesn’t approve.’
Silena, the woman who ran the costume shop and Beckendorf’s wife, seemed to know everything, though. “Dancers like to talk to me or around me,” she’d told him.
“So, what happened?” He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know if she was okay. He hadn’t had many opportunities to dance with her, but everyone was close in a company. They had talked, they had shared barre space. She’d even used his foam roller once.
Silena pinned some fabric on his doublet into place, “She broke off her engagement,” she said.
“What?” He asked, turning so quickly that Silena accidentally poked him with the pin.
“Stand still,” She said, adjusting her measurements again.
“What happened?” He asked, being sure to stand still and composed.
“That I can’t tell you,”
“You don’t know?” He asked.
“No,” she said, “I know. It’s just … really not great,”
“And it’s not your place,” Percy said, finishing the sentence for her. Silena nodded and finished her alterations.
Luke had been another dancer in the company. He’d left the company for good a little while later, an “early retirement” at 33.
Good riddance, Percy thought. He’d never really liked the guy anyway. He was usually a jerk to Percy and Beckendorf. And now his principal spot was up for grabs. He was sad to see Annabeth go, though. He would have been overwhelmingly jealous of her success if she wasn’t so talented.
It’d been nine months since Jewels , and now Annabeth was back to work, ready as ever to stun audiences from all over the tri-state area.
Even in rehearsal, even after an injury, she was completely stable. He held onto her right arm as her right leg lifted, holding her steady as she did a port de bras back, left arm above her head, torso leaning back, leg and hips leaning forward. With the same arm as leg extended, she could easily twist right off her left leg. But Percy held her as steady as he could while she held her balance like it was no big deal at all.
She rose back up, and Percy pulled her forward to allow her to twist deliberately, pivoting to face Chiron (their audience for now), her right leg still back, now bent in attitude, wrapped around Percy. He was conscious of her left foot. An injury, he knew, never really healed. Fractures and sprains gave dances career-long issues. He held her stable as she balanced on her left foot, waiting for her cue to move on. They had to lose contact for a second -- there was no other way to do it -- but he found her again, hand on her waist, holding her steady and stable.
That was about the first five seconds.
He hardly remembered anything after that. He kept waiting for Chiron to stop them, to offer a correction or simply tell Percy that was enough. But the music kept going, and they kept dancing, as if they were the only two in the room.
He’d been watching from the back of the room for days, running choreography in his head and with Katie when they could find space. The two had found empty studios once or twice to run some dances in, but he was mostly left alone with his mirror at home and old recordings.
It was up to him to support her. That was always the job of the partner, but especially now. He’d watched her run this pas three times already, while he stood in the back. Whatever he could do to make it easier for her, to make sure she hit her mark, he made sure to do it. Annabeth was about the same height as Katie, but with longer feet and legs and a shorter torso. Her weight was in a slightly different spot, as was her balance. He needed to adjust quickly. If they were on stage, they’d be able to mumble things to each other through their smiles. But Chiron was too close, and Annabeth knew as well as Percy what the stakes were here.
If he let his mind focus too much on the steps, he’d lose just about everything else. If he wasn’t thinking about his own steps, he was thinking about her. Otherwise, he left it to muscle memory, putting all of the rest of his energy in the artistry.
This is your wedding day, he thought. You met her in a dream and saved her from a curse. This is fairy tale love. Show Chiron how much you love Aurora.
There were a few moments where romantic eye contact was mandated by the choreography. As he stared at her gray eyes, pretty face, and princess curls, he was forced to remember just how easy it was to look at Annabeth Chase and feel nothing but fairy tale love.
She was a dancer to be admired in every way.
The fish dives came up faster than he anticipated. Everything at City ballet was fast. Chiron wanted them to spin fast, drop fast, and get back up to do it again. She ran to him, grabbed his arm, and twisted herself around. She spun, spun, spun, then dropped, diving right down kicking up both legs behind her as Percy held her torso with one arm, counting on him alone to keep her face from hitting the floor.
Percy kept his promise once, then twice, then a third time. Everything in classical ballet came in threes. She never fell.
At the end, after all their promenades, pirouettes, and press up lifts, they had one final fish dive, the one Beckendorf liked to call “Look ma, no hands!” On their final dive, he held his leg steady as she rested her hips on it. He squeezed her tight between his leg and his torso, and she squeezed her thigh around his waist, both of them trying to defy gravity as their hands left one another in a moment of presentation to the audience.
The fast-paced, modern, and uniquely American Balanchine style, typically suited his ADHD. He loved the quickness of it. If he had his way, he’d dance Balanchine's wild Tarantella every season.
But as he supported Annabeth in the final signature fish dive, he wished they were dancing in London or Moscow just so he could enjoy a slower arrangement and let this moment last longer.
They held steady. The music moved on, and Percy helped her to her feet for their final spins center stage, and then the bows.
They were both smiling at the end. Percy could feel drops of sweat running down his temples, his lungs and legs burned from the sudden exertion, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
They faced Chiron, his wheelchair still parked at the front of the room. He was wearing the same neutral expression he almost always had.
“Good,” he said. And that was the end of it. He told Annabeth to rest and called the third cast couple to the front, and that was the end of that.
Percy had a free hour at the end of the day that he spent with Katie running the pas de deux so they’d be ready to show Chiron when he asked for it, whenever that might be. Katie was a wonderful dancer, stable, reliable. He was lucky to dance with her, and they were both lucky to have a cast at all. While the fourth cast was far from the prestige of the first cast, he wasn’t ignorant to what an opportunity it was to dance the Prince in any cast. He’d languished in the corps for four years, and slowly clawed his way up to a soloist, gaining more and more noticeable roles as he did. “Diamonds” last year was a big break for him even, ultimately, without Annabeth there to dance it with him. This was another chance to show audiences, donors, and Chiron that he was ready for that final, coveted promotion to principal.
He thought of that principal spot Luke had left open, and the way Chiron watched all of the men in the company carefully, looking to fill it. Percy was going to make the most of his fourth cast spot and put up a fighting chance.
On his way towards the PT room, he spotted Annabeth, Chiron, and Mr. D, one of their ballet masters, running one of Aurora’s variations. He paused at the window to watch as she finished the dance with the same grace and precision she brought to everything. It was the act three variation, the one that followed the wedding pas de deux. Chiron stopped her occasionally, offering a correction, but she already looked pretty much stage ready in Percy’s mind. Even in rehearsal, Annabeth gave the performance everything. Her artistry emanated through every little flick of the wrist, the soft smile on her face reflecting the joy of her wedding day paired with the regal responsibility she was now taking on as the Queen.
On his way back, he spotted them again in the same room.
“He’s the one!” Annabeth said. “He’s got to be.”
Percy kept moving, not wanting to hear more people sing Jason Grace’s praises. He showered quickly, gathered his stuff, and headed out of the building as quickly as his fourth cast-worthy feet could carry him, hoping the bitter cold of New York City January would comfort his bitter moods.
On his way down the stairs, Annabeth caught up with him. She’d let her curls down, although the top of her head was hidden under a white winter hat with a pompom on the top.
“Percy!” She yelled. She was smiling wide as he turned to face her.
“Hey!” He said.
She started walking next to him, the two heading down the front steps in unison. “Great work today,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said. “It’s great to see you back. We all missed you.” Some more than others, he thought. There were certainly some female dancers devastated to see her come back. But Percy couldn’t have been more thrilled.
“I’m sorry about ‘Diamonds,’” she said. “You and Piper did a great job.”
“You came to see it?” He asked.
“I wanted to support. It was the least I could do,” she said.
Diamonds. He and Annabeth had been first cast pas de deux . They’d made it all the way to dress rehearsal in these shiny, rhinestone, white outfits. They’d done the pas and the corps had done most of their parts. There was only the coda left, but in a flash Annabeth collapsed on the stage, a puddle of white tulle. Percy remembered the shaken look in her eyes, the shock that preceded the pain of the injury itself. Every dancer knew that moment, that this isn’t real moment when you feel something in your body break, and you try to bargain with the universe to turn back time, to make it go away. She tried to stand as if she’d just slipped coming down from her jump, but Percy had seen the way her foot landed and her ankle rolled. She was out. They both knew it.
Piper had been able to take her place, rehearsing with Percy all of the next day so that Percy could hold onto his first cast spot, even with Annabeth gone.
Besides Beckendorf and Silena, Piper was probably his closest friend in the company; they did most of their partnering together, so moving to work with her at the last minute hadn’t been an issue. He’d hoped to get cast with her as his Aurora, but she’d been pulled for first cast Lilac Fairy. She was destined to be the next female soloist pulled up to principal and everyone knew it. She wasn’t like Percy, stuck in soloist limbo for nearly three years.
It was hard to be too bitter though when he’d at least had the good fortune to score the Prince role in any cast.
“We were alright. Nothing here was the same without you,” he said.
“Well, I hope I get to dance with you sometime soon,” she said.
Percy nodded. “I’d love to. You’re gonna make a great Aurora you know?”
She shook her head. “Let's hope so.”
They parted ways at the subway gate as she headed downtown and he headed up.
“See you tomorrow,” she said. She smiled at him again, this time like she knew something he didn’t.
~
Ballet required a lot more control and concentration than any of his school teachers ever imagined him capable of. ADHD left him unsuited for desk work or anything that involved some semblance of an attention span. And his dyslexia made him less than perfect on tests. But there was something about ballet that had just clicked. Once he learned the combination, where and when to place his feet and arms, he could just fly.
He didn’t think a lot while he was dancing. He just listened to the music and let his body do the rest. He spent careful time training at barre and in the center until things were utterly second nature. When he was dancing, he had to rely on himself and trust himself. Every muscle that could be controlled needed to be.
He liked that the most about ballet, that he was in control of himself. Whatever he put into ballet, he got back in improved technique, higher jumps, and faster spins. He’d spent years training and pushing his body to the outer limits of what he thought was possible.
When he’d started dancing at the YMCA at twelve, he didn’t bother to dream of a career. It felt so impossible for someone like him. But at thirteen, it seemed life finally cut him a break. He got a lot of support from his early teacher, a scholarship here and there, and an actually decent step-dad. Before he had time to question what was possible, he was accepted to The School of American Ballet. He was fifteen, and for the first time in his life, he was motivated to be the top of the class.
Now he was dragging exhausted legs up the stairs of the 1 train subway stop. Any bitterness started to melt away when he saw the City Ballet poster advertising the ballet. It was Annabeth in the signature pink tutu from act one, with Beckendor holding her hand as she balanced on one leg, her other leg behind her, bent at the knee. Beckendorf wouldn’t be able to perform, he remembered. Percy was lucky to be dancing. He was the prince, Prince Desirè, in a City Ballet cast, on Lincoln Center’s stage.
There was plenty to be proud of.
~
The next morning he was greeted by Piper running full speed at him.
“Percy! You got it!” She yelled.
Percy sipped his coffee, barely present enough to comprehend what she said. When her words obviously didn’t register, she pulled him by the arm down the hallway towards the bulletin board. Chiron liked to make announcements the old fashioned way - paper thumb tacked to the cork board.
In bright red letters at the top of The Sleeping Beauty ’s cast list was the word “REVISED.”
Percy always read cast lists from the bottom up, scanning the other casts first. There was another man’s name in his fourth cast spot, and his heart dropped. He’d been pulled from the ballet. He kept reading. The stress and confusion made his dyslexia act up and slowed his reading down.
He got through the second cast without finding his name. But he did find Jason Grace still in his second cast spot as the prince. He moved onto the first cast, scanning for his name among the corps first, then the solos. He didn’t find it there, and his heart started to race. He imagined, first, that he’d been pulled from the ballet all together. Then there at the top:
First Cast:
Aurora --- Annabeth Chase
Prince Desirè --- Percy Jackson
Piper hugged him tight as he stared in disbelief.
“I have to call my mom,” he heard his voice say.
Chapter 2: Adagio
Summary:
As they moved to face the front, Percy held onto her hips, feeling where her balance was and moving with her as she extended her leg up or bent or spun in front of him. His job was to keep her steady, to be in tune with her movements, her balance, the music … all of it at once to make sure she knew she didn’t need to worry, he would keep her upright.
They ran through the corps, bobbing and weaving through bodies.
Come follow me, Aurora said to him. Follow me. I need your help. And Percy followed. He was going to eat, sleep, and breathe Sleeping Beauty until that happened. Because he knew Annabeth already was.
Notes:
CW: brief mentions of suicide (it's early in the chapter and in reference to Gabe, no main characters).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He’d called his mom right away and rejoiced in the sound of gasps followed by a chorus of “I always knew you would do it”s. She announced they’d celebrate as soon as he got home -- “Cookies, champagne, anything you want.”
“I’ll probably want an ice bucket and a Coke,” he said.
“They’ll be there waiting,” she promised.
His mom was his favorite person in the world, without a doubt. She’d always been his biggest supporter, even when he didn’t have much going for him but a string of expulsions and F’s and D’s on his report card.
Was he a troubled kid? Yeah, you could say that.
But not to her. She was the perfect mom, and once people met her, it was impossible for them to disagree. She’d worked hard for him, busting her ass at a candy shop in Grand Central for most of his childhood, relying on his step-father, Smelly Gabe (Percy still called him that, even at twenty-five), to help make rent, until he did them the favor of tossing himself off the GW Bridge. He left a meager life insurance policy, but it was enough for his mom to get a GED and for him to go to a proper ballet school. His new step-father, Paul, was much kinder. And more financially stable. And he didn’t punch Percy’s lights out if he misbehaved.
He’d stayed at home even as his career progressed; New York rent was expensive, and he’d rather live with his family than with a bunch of roommates. Plus, his mother hardly charged rent. She wouldn’t charge him at all if he didn’t insist. So, he helped pay his little sister’s tuition.
After the call with his mom, he left the locker room and headed to class, light on his feet, a smile on his face.
His career, while far from mediocre, had felt utterly stagnated for the last few years. He kept doing his solos, sometimes taking on big principle parts, going to company class, and just trying to do anything he could to get Chiron’s attention and prove to him that he was principal-ready.
But the promotions never came. And after Annabeth had gotten hurt during Jewels months ago, even the major first-cast principal roles had started to dry up for him. He was used to dancing with Piper, but her star seemed to shine brighter and brighter every day. She was sprinting towards principal contract, and she had no reason to lag and wait for Percy to catch up to her.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed among the male soloists that they’d never filled Luke’s spot. But there was nothing that said they even needed to.
Before today, hardly anyone had been looking at Percy seriously. Not that his peers made any decisions. But he’d always been something of an outsider around them -- a late starter at twelve-years old in a YMCA recreation class. He had the chops to make it this far, through the School of American Ballet -- the company’s ballet school, to his apprenticeship, through that, and now up to soloist. Still, he hardly ever seemed to impress those around him.
But he must have impressed someone yesterday.
He took a place at the barre before company class, warming up his feet and legs with plié’s and relevés, rolling out his tired muscles and stretching his back gently. He made an effort to conceal his smugness. Not out of modesty though. No, he wanted them to know he’d earned this, maybe even let them think he’d expected it. Of course he was the choice.
You’re just as good as any of them, his mother had told him at seventeen when he’d come home from SAB in tears. He hadn’t cried after all the punches Gabe had landed on him when he was a child. He’d avoided crying so much, he almost thought he couldn’t do it anymore. And then one day in Chiron’s office, he felt like Chiron had punched him until something precious broke. He held off crying until he got home, saw his mom, and …
His mother held him on his bed like he was still a baby and told him again. You’re just as good as any of them. People see it. They’ll all see it soon.
Years before, he heard his mother say We’ll be free of him one day. It was the only bad thing she’d ever said about Smelly Gabe. Don’t worry Percy. We’ll be free soon.
As more company members trickled in, they spotted him at the barre, uncharacteristically close to the front of the room. He felt eyes on him. A few of them offered him congratulations, including Jason Grace, who made a point of running over to him, a smile wide and (Percy feared) completely genuine. The rest just stole glances at him. No one ever paid much attention to him before, but now they needed to see what was so good about him.
You’ll see, Percy told himself. Don’t worry, you’ll see.
Company class wasn’t mandatory, but it was a good warm up. Percy relished the opportunity to stand at the barre and do simple tendues and plies, go over his positions, and find out where he body was each day. One of the first things he loved about ballet was that whatever he put into it, however many hours, however much rehearsal, it always gave back to him. He was always improving.
As class dragged on, people started to leave early, some going to rehearsal, some just simply not in the mood to stick around any longer.
But Percy’s favorite part of class was grande allegro. It was always at the end. After a long class of practicing positions, he got to run and jump as far and as high as he could. For as grand as it was supposed to be, it always felt like pure fun. It wasn’t the slow controlled moves of adagio, or the small but quick petite allegro. It was a moment to give it his all.
He felt every muscle in his legs work to propel him off the floor, right down to his toes, pushing off the floor until they pointed. His leg sprung out in front of him, but years of flexibility conditioning meant he didn’t even feel the stretch of his hamstring as one leg extended straight in front of him, the other straight back. As he jumped through the air, he felt close to that feeling he’d chased in dance since he was twelve, that moment he had found so few times but knew existed.
Freedom.
~
Percy didn’t need to be at the rehearsal for the Rose Adagio, but he had a half hour break before his own rehearsal in the same studio. He figured he might as well get more acquainted with the ballet. It was always good to know other parts in case they needed someone to fill in. Percy prided himself on being something of a go-to guy, someone reliable to fill-in when a dancer got hurt last minute.
The adagio was iconic. The ballerina had to balance on pointe on her left foot for what seemed like an eternity, the working leg stable as it supported her, the other bent back in attitude. She had to hold that pose using only her own balance, core strength, and the occasional supporting hand from one of the four princes. And she had to do that twice. No big deal.
With few exceptions, men didn’t go on pointe, so Percy couldn’t imagine ever pulling something off like that. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could do that in his flat shoes.
Despite the recent injury to her supporting foot, Annabeth hardly seemed to have any issue with the balances, standing firm through the first pass of it, before continuing the five-minute dance like she’d already done it a thousand times. She was a remarkably artistic dancer, and even in the first rehearsal she brought all of the joy and exuberance of a sixteen-year-old girl at her birthday party to the role. She had a wide smile on her face as she moved her arms and upper body fluidly, kicking her legs up in the air in a way that seemed utterly carefree.
The second promenade was harder than the first. She held the same attitude position, but this time each prince turned her around. This made the balance harder to hold and much longer at the end of an already-six minute adagio.
When she went up for the second set of balances, Percy could tell that she was off her leg by the way she seemed to hold on tightly to her partner’s hand as they went around and how quickly she brought her arm up and back down out of fifth position before taking the next prince’s hand. Her ankle wobbled as they went around, and her face briefly betrayed just how hard she was working. It didn’t have to be perfect – this was only the second day of rehearsal since choreography finished, and performances were rarely perfect.
But Annabeth had different standards for herself.
Percy held his breath when the third prince walked up. He was a young dancer. He’d only been offered his corps contract a few weeks before rehearsals started, and he didn’t seem to be the strongest partner yet. But Chiron made choices like that sometimes; he threw younger dancers into a bigger role as a trial by fire. It made some of them better dancers, and it had broken some of the others.
Annabeth was probably ready to kill Chiron right about now for putting this dancer in this spot. Percy could tell that he’d been distracted, leaving Annabeth to partner herself whenever they danced together. He had the same issue as he partnered her around the promenade.
“Stay with her, Leo!” Chiron yelled from the side. Typically, if Chiron wanted to give a note, he’d stop the pianist and the dancers to correct something. It was rare for him to yell notes as during the dance.
Chiron’s comment only pulled Leo’s attention farther away from Annabeth. He stopped the turn short and released her hand before he was sure that she was ready to move on to the next prince. Annabeth's knee and shoulders quivered as she fought to find her balance, before losing it, dropping out of her relevé .
Percy winced for her as he watched her foot drop. Such a small action was a big mistake in the adagio. Audience members rarely noticed choreography mishaps. Most of them were pros at disguising any mistakes with other pretty steps. As long as a dancer stayed on their feet, they could adapt or change choreography on the spot if they needed to. No one ever had a perfect show, but the audience never knew the difference. But the adagio balances were one of the rare moments in ballet that had to be precise, because even an audience member unfamiliar with the ballet would notice if the ballerina fell out of the balance when she wasn't supposed to.
And Annabeth Chase wasn’t supposed to.
She popped back onto relevé to continue, but Chiron called for the music to stop. She dropped out of her pose, taking a few deep breaths, her face and back sweaty from the effort of the dance. She shook out her left foot and ankle. Chiron looked at her concerned. “I’m fine,” she said quickly.
Leo stepped towards the back of the room, clearly embarrassed. He stared at the back of Annabeth’s head like she was the high school bully ready to beat him up in the parking lot.
He is a high school kid , Percy remembered. He was only eighteen. Percy knew Chiron well as a director and mentor. There was a good chance that Chiron remembered Leo’s age and took pity on him. Percy wasn’t too sure about Annabeth, though.
“Let’s try that again. This time, Leo, stay with her. She needs your support to get through this,” Chiron said. He gave a few more detailed instructions to all the princes’, and then a few notes to Annabeth, who took them with a gracious nod, before going up again, this time for a more gracious and successful set of turns.
~
Their own rehearsal a little while later also wasn’t seeing much success. They were working on the long dream sequence in act two still learning the choreography for most of it.
They each had their own struggles to overcome. Annabeth had been working all morning on the Adagio, and in the actual performance, she would have only performed it a few minutes before, meaning she’d already be quite tired. Percy had the tough job of making the Prince an almost equally interesting character next to Aurora, with his own motivations and arc. And Piper, their Lilac Fairy, was the storyteller, pantomiming works in a sign language that only existed in ballet in time to classical music.
Their progress was slow. Chiron seemed to stop them every few steps to give a note.
“Piper, you’ve really got to convince this guy to come save the princess.” “Annabeth, charm him. You need him to wake you up.” “Percy, be a little less sure of yourself in the beginning. You don’t know who this woman is. Some fairy just showed up in the woods and told you to go after this dream girl. It’s going to take some convincing.”
As he and Annabeth danced, he did everything he could to make the dance as easy for her as possible. He’d always prided himself on being a pretty good partner, but now he really needed to support her.
The Lilac Fairy teased him with the Vision of Aurora, and each time he got close, the corps pulled him back. He was turned away from the vision and the Fairy, until he heard the sound of Annabeth’s shoes moving across the floor and felt her presence behind him. She reached out and touched his shoulder, but as he turned, she bourre ’d away from him, taking tiny little steps on pointe until she was hiding behind the Fairy again, who held her hand out to stop him from getting to her. This happened once more.
On the third time, Annabeth held onto his shoulder, and he extended his arm to support her in arabesque, one leg extended straight out behind her, before going into a promenade, because there hadn’t been enough of them in the ballet already. Percy spun her around on one foot as she held the pose.
As they moved to face the front, Percy held onto her hips, feeling where her balance was and moving with her as she extended her leg up or bent or spun in front of him. His job was to keep her steady, to be in tune with her movements, her balance, the music … all of it at once to make sure she knew she didn’t need to worry, he would keep her upright.
They ran through the corps, bobbing and weaving through bodies.
Come follow me, Aurora said to him. Follow me. I need your help. And Percy followed.
When the music ended, he had to hold his hands behind his back to keep from clapping. It was a strict rule Chiron kept through the company and the school.
“No clapping in rehearsals. Rehearsal is a space for people to work through things, to learn, to dance sub-par. We don’t want to reward that.”
Percy had heard him repeat it many times over the years as new students or guests at the company made the mistake he’d made once too.
But for the first day of rehearsal, he didn’t think he’d done that bad.
Still, Chiron had notes. There were always notes.
The corps were dismissed, but he asked Piper, Annabeth, and himself to stay.
“Before we break for lunch,” Chiron said, “Percy, I want to run your variation from the top of act two.”
Percy nodded and stepped to the center of the room. The variation was slow and emotional. It was more about artistry than technical skill. It wasn’t an exciting one, but it was a chance for Percy to show off to Chiron that he could do more than jump high in the air. It was artistry that counted at this level; ballet was nothing without it. Sure, you needed the technique, but it only got you so far.
Percy focused his mind on telling the story of Prince Desiré, letting that guide him through the steps. The Prince was emotionally lost, searching for something, a longing deep in his chest that he could not identify or fill. He looked behind him, in front of him, and to the wings for answers in a slow adagio, but there wasn’t anything there to discover. Not quite yet.
He began to lose himself in the role. He had never danced this part before, but the role felt exceedingly familiar to him. He felt like he was waking up inside of his own dream, where everything was so impermanent. He didn’t quite understand the rules of this world, but he longed for something anyway. Companionship, meaning, desire … there was something he was reaching for, something almost in his grasp.
The slow journey of the music reminded him of Opus 19/The Dreamer, one of his favorite roles. He had understudied the lead male when he was a corps member. His rehearsal schedule almost always had him double-booked, forcing him to go to other corps part rehearsals, instead of learning Opus. The message was clear enough. They didn’t expect he would ever actually do it. But then there was an injury, and then another one. Soon, he was in a rehearsal room with nothing but a video tape, a ballet master, and his partner learning it three hours before curtain. As The Dreamer, he was on stage for almost the entire ballet, through all three movements.
Helen, the lead woman and much more seasoned dancer, had been exceptionally helpful during their partnered parts, talking him through the moves as they went. The dance itself was abstract, no clear story like there was in Sleeping Beauty, but the woman always felt like she was there to enlighten him, to offer him something he’d been searching for.
But his solos and moments with the corps were all his own. He hardly remembered what he did or didn’t do on stage. His focus was solely on the character. As he danced, he felt The Dream becoming more and more natural to him. He knew the character like he knew himself.
As the ballet reached its end, and the corps exploded away from him as he did his double tour, he felt like he finally found that clarity he’d been searching for.
He was pulled from most of his other corps roles after that, assigned to Opus for the rest of the season. At the end of it, he had his soloist contract.
Opus 19 had become something of a signature role for him after that. The company had done it in four other seasons since then, and every time Percy was the first cast.
As he danced the prince now, he started to find that similar familiarity within himself. The Prince was lost and yearning for something he couldn’t explain or grasp. What more could a prince want? Shouldn’t he feel like he had everything already? So why did he still know that something was missing?
The room around him started to fade away as it so often did when he was dancing. He considered his own journey, his own desperate search for some kind of proof that he could be even more successful than he was now. He felt that same longing in his chest he identified in the Prince -- he has everything he could want, a company contract, a stable and happy family, good friends -- but there was something missing.
He finished his last arabesque, and tried to use his eyes, arms, and shoulders to communicate his own loneliness and ennui. The princes, not his own, he tried to tell himself. Although, it might just be the perfect solo for him.
Chiron watched him throughout the dance, not interrupting him for notes. When he finished, he glanced at Annabeth, who was leaning against the barre, smiling at him.
There were always notes.
~
Annnnabeth walked up to him as he shoved warm-ups, therabands, and massage balls back into his dance bag at the end of rehearsal.
“Guess I got my wish,” she said, sitting down next to him to stretch out her legs a little more.
“What?” Percy asked.
“To dance with you again,” she said, smiling -- not just a “happy for you” smile, but something a little more cunning. Still kind, but like she knew something. She leaned forward into a pike, her hands around her feet, her face pressed to the tops of her thighs, so Percy couldn’t read her expression anymore. Percy remembered the day before: He’s the one, he has to be. Maybe she hadn’t been talking about Jason after all.
Percy didn't let it shake his confidence. Annabeth wasn’t any more likely to just hand a role to a dancer who didn’t deserve it than Chiron was.
“I hope this,” he gestured back towards the rehearsal space with his head, “isn’t just about Jewels. ”
She sat up and tilted her head to the side, confused. She spread her legs into a straddle and leaned forward, chest to the floor, and rested her head on her forearms, her legs splayed out to either side of her.
“It’s not an apology,” she said. “But it did help. We were good partners, even if we never made it to stage,” she said.
Percy smiled. “Well, I hope you make it to the stage this time,” he said, then added, “I’ve got a lot riding on this.” He meant for that to sound just as teasing, but his sincerity and anxiety betrayed him.
“I promise,” she said. She sat up and extended a hand. Percy took it, and they shook on it. This time, they’d make it to the stage together.
They were quiet for a few minutes as they both cooled down and stretched tired muscles.
After a few minutes, Percy called across the studio to Piper. “Lunch?” He asked. She shot him a thumbs up.
He turned to Annabeth, who wasn’t paying attention. She’d given him a little more space after they made their agreement, apparently out of things to say to him. Annabeth was back in a straddle, her chest leaned forward towards the ground, resting her head in her hands as she scrolled on her phone. She always seemed a little angry and isolated when she was on her own. Percy knew her well enough that she wasn’t (most of the time), but she did carry herself with a fierce, intimidating quality; it didn’t surprise him that most people were afraid to talk to her.
Percy tried to think up small talk, but all of his thoughts were all-consumed by the ballet, and she probably didn’t want to talk about it any more. She hadn’t moved when Percy had asked Piper to lunch. Maybe she had plans. But still, it would be rude if he didn’t offer.
“Lunch?” Percy asked her.
Annabeth looked up, a little startled. “Me?” There was something almost high school about the confused and worried look in her eye, like Percy was some popular girl inviting her as a joke.
“Yeah,” Percy said. “Me and Piper are heading over in a few.”
“And Jason,” Piper called.
“And Jason,” Percy added. “Since when?” He asked Piper. But she didn’t respond.
Annabeth blinked a few times, before smiling. “Yeah, sure that’d be great.”
Percy smiled. They walked out together, finding seats in the commissary.
He was grateful for Piper’s natural gifts for talking. She started small-talk off easily, and filled gaps in the conversation whenever they cropped up. Percy kept up with her fast-paced conversation the same as he usually did, but he kept an eye on Annabeth. She was quiet and reserved in a way he’d never really seen before. A year ago, she’d sat with Luke and all of his friends, but since she’d come back, he’d noticed she mostly snuck off to a more private spot somewhere, rarely joining other company members.
As lunch went on, her icy exterior started to melt. She smiled more naturally. She’d even laughed when Percy put on (or really, emphasized) a New York accent, something indicative of his uptown upbringing in a mostly Latino neighborhood, more Bronx than typical Brooklyn.
“Point made,” Jason said, before turning to Annabeth. “Are you from New York too?”
Still laughing a little, Annabeth responded in a sweet Southern accent Percy had never heard before in his life, but seemed to come as naturally to her as his New Yorker accent did.
“Well now, bless your heart, but I was born and raised down in Virginia.”
Percy laughed along with her, neither of them really sure what exactly was so funny. As he listened to the sound of her laugh, and remembered the sweet charm of her emphasized accent, he felt something warm, affectionate, and completely inevitable settle in his chest.
The next few weeks followed the same pattern. Class, then rehearsals, almost always with Annabeth and Piper. They’d stretch, and then head to lunch together. Jason joined them when he could. Percy hated that he was warming up to the guy. Still, when Piper confessed to having feelings for him (Percy and Annabeth feigned surprise), Percy said, “If I had feelings for a blonde man, I’d keep that to myself.”
Annabeth let out a single sharp ha, while Piper stared at him indigent. “Annabeth,” she said, “back me up here.”
“No, he makes a great point.”
Percy smiled.
~
The end of week two came around, they were finally just able to dance, all of them sure enough in the choreography that they could really focus on connecting with one another. Percy left rehearsal at the end of the day with sore muscles and a smile on his face. As he headed down the hallway, he nearly collided with someone.
“Watch where you’re going, you don’t want to end up like me,” Beckendorf said, shaking one of his crutches at Percy.
“Beck!” Percy said, smiling wide. “What are you doing here?”
“Got tired of sitting at home feeling bad for myself, so I figured I’d come here to bad about myself in the company of my wife,” He said.
“I’m sure Silena loves that,” Percy said.
Beckendorf gave him a slight shove. “Come on, we’ve got a hot tea for you downstairs,” he said, leading Percy towards the costume shop. “I wanted to see how things were going,”
“Things are good,” Percy told him honestly. It’s coming together.”
“I’m sure it will be great when it goes up,” Beckendorf said. Percy opened the costume shop door for Beckendorf and followed him inside. “Hello gorgeous,” Beckendorf called into the room.
Michael appeared first, his head popping up from behind a rack of upside down tutus. “Great to see you too, handsome,” he said.
Silena’s head popped up from behind a sewing machine.
“Took you long enough. The tea might be cold by now,” she said.
Beckendorf hobbled over to her. She met him halfway, tilting her head up so that he could kiss her more easily. When they broke apart, he apologized, “I don’t move very quickly these days,”
Michael headed out soon after they arrived, leaving the three of them alone in the workshop.
They sat down around the working table, now free of costumes and fabric, sipping their tea as Percy told them about the ballet’s progress.
“How are you doing, keeping up with Annabeth?” Silena asked.
Percy felt himself smile. Being in pure proximity to her seemed to improve his dancing, but not without a little extra sweating first. She could be demanding, stopping rehearsal herself if there was something she needed that she wasn’t getting. But she was also gracious when you did the same thing back.
“I need you just a hair closer,” Percy had told her today mid-rehearsal. They were practicing a lift, and she’d jumped into his arms just a moment too soon. She nodded and ran it again right away. That time, it was perfect.
“Better?” She asked. Percy nodded. For the rest of the day, she always jumped at just the right moment.
“I know, she’s …” Percy trailed off and felt himself smiling thinking about her. He usually tried hard not to think about her so much. Her pretty face and impeccable dancing had drawn his attention since the moment he first saw her all the way back at SAB years ago. Dancing with her during Jewels and now was only making it harder to keep his mind from wandering to her.
“Well, look at that, Percy’s in love,” Beckendorf joked.
“I am not,” he said. He wasn’t in love, by any means. Was he happy that she wasn’t married or even engaged any more? Maybe a little. Had he spent every waking moment thinking about her smile since he’d first seen it? Sure. Did he spend a lot of time thinking up ways to make her laugh? Only sometimes. That was far from love. He just wanted to take her to dinner, make her laugh, learn more about her. Date her a little bit.
“Better that you aren’t,” Silena said. “I doubt she’s ever going to date company men again,”
“I don’t want to date her,” Percy lied. “Was her breakup really that bad?” Percy asked. He knew it must have been pretty rough if it was enough to get Luke to retire and her to take an extended leave of absence, but to swear off company members was basically swearing off anyone. None of them got out much. Percy’s own dating life had been pretty much confined to the occasional company member for the last few years.
Beckendorf looked at him, a dark, serious look in his eyes. “It was. It was really fucked up too.” Percy caught the subtle warning glance Silena shot at him, telling him to watch what he said about it.
“What happened?” Percy asked.
“Still can’t tell you,” Silena said. “Just … don’t get your hopes up with her. She might not even be ready to date again yet. I mean … they were together for …”
“Yeah,” Beckendorf filled in quickly, “it was right before she was promoted to soloist.”
Percy traced the timeline of Annabeth’s career in his head. “Was he a principal when they started dating?”
“Yeah,” Beckendorf answered.
Percy nodded and stared at his teacup. He remembered how the corps whispered about her years ago, the rumors that she’d somehow slept her way to the top. She’d been putting up with shitty rumors for years, ones that called her career and success into question. She danced circles around everyone, and she still had people acting like all of her success was just because of some guy.
He thought about their rehearsals again. Her determination, and her frustration at any little mistake, even just two weeks into five weeks of rehearsal. Annabeth was determined to prove herself, prove to the company that she deserved these opportunities, and this ballet was the chance to do that. That didn’t leave a lot of space for guys in general, especially not company guys.
Percy suddenly felt a lot closer to Annabeth. She’d always seemed so untouchable, unshakeable. But she was probably feeling the pressure of this ballet as badly as he was.
She’d seemed so surprised when he’d first invited her to lunch, like she’d not gotten that kindness from most people in the company before. Then he remembered her only ever eating with Luke and his friends. Looked from his tea to Beckendorf and Silena, and realized they were friends with her. They knew things about her Percy couldn’t even ask about. And they were some of Percy’s closest friends. But somehow he and Annabeth had never gotten close. He tried to remember Luke, and found nothing but a string of memories of him at galas, rehearsals, and even backstage lingering close to Annabeth, often a possessive hold on her hip. He knew she could be a little cold and off-putting, but really it didn’t take her long to be kind and open. She was a friend now, after only two weeks. So why didn’t she seem to have many friends here after almost a decade? He was pretty sure he knew the answer, and felt grateful all over again that Luke had left the company and moved on.
He finished his tea and said his goodbyes, claiming his mom needed him home to watch his sister (“And there’s an ice bucket with my name on it.”) Mostly, he didn’t want to sit around and waste time anymore. He and Annabeth were going to give the performance of the century. She was going to finally get out of Luke’s shadow, and Percy was going to come out of the shadows in general. He was going to eat, sleep, and breathe
Sleeping Beauty
until that happened. Because he knew Annabeth already was.
Notes:
Watch the Rose Adagio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqejv_BQ7Zg
Watch the Prince's variation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7qLg1lOfrw&t=3897s (skip to 01:01:15)
Watch the vision scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7qLg1lOfrw&t=3897s (skip to 01:03:35)
Watch (some of) Opus 19: https://www.numeridanse.tv/en/dance-videotheque/opus-19-dreamer
Chapter 3: Pas De Deux
Summary:
Pas De Deux, a dance of two
Notes:
Content warnings: references to the canon abuse of Percy and Sally by Gabe towards the end of the chapter.
The next chapter will take longer to publish, because I will be on vacation.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Percy stepped into the coffee shop closest to Lincoln Center, he spotted a familiar mess of blonde curls carrying a black dance bag with the initials AEC monogrammed on the side. He smiled and listened carefully, confirming that she was still ordering. He slipped up next to her.
“Hers is on me,” he said, handing the barista his card. He started to order his own coffee, as Annabeth tried and failed to put her own card forward. The poor barista looked confused at how to proceed, but thankfully, Annabeth gave in, accepting the free coffee.
“You didn’t need to do that,” she said as they stepped back out into the cold New York winter, now with hot coffees to keep their hands warm.
“What kind of prince charming would I be if I didn’t buy you a coffee every once and a while?” Percy asked as they climbed the stairs to the studios.
“I don’t remember the ‘buying coffees’ part of the ballet. Or any fairy-tale for that matter,” Annabeth.
“Slaying a dragon, buying a coffee, it’s all the same thing really,” he said.
“Well, next time I see a dragon, I’ll be sure to throw a Starbucks gift card his way.”
Percy smiled and pulled the door open, stepping aside to hold it for her. “After you,” he said.
“Charming indeed.”
~
Percy wasn’t quite sure where he stood with Annabeth. The two of them plus Piper were enjoying their lunch break together, small talking and complaining about sore muscles and sewing pointe shoes. He was good at making her laugh, and she was able to keep up with his wit. They worked well together, but when they left the building for the day, well, that was the end of whatever new friendship they were building.
Percy laid on his bed, trying to decide if he should send Annabeth the link he’d found. It was a personality quiz: Which classic Barbie Movie Barbie are you? He didn’t know if she’d ever seen the comparisons of her to the animations. He didn’t even know if she’d ever played with Barbies. Annabeth was so intense sometimes she might have been the girl cutting their hair and pulling off their limbs.
He’d spent all day dancing with her, kissing her, and looking lovingly into her eyes, and now he didn’t even have the courage to send her a text message.
He texted Grover “ I think I forgot how to talk to women”
His best friend had met a girl his first week of college, and now they were married and living in some sustainable cabin near Lake George. Percy had always thought of himself as the suave-er of the two, but now here they were. Percy could spend all day surrounded by beautiful men and women and not have a date in over a year, and Grover could be happily married by 25.
Grover texted back soon after: “ have you tried ‘hey’”
He had not.
He went back to his texts to Annabeth. All their other messages were confirming rehearsal times or choreography. “ Hey ” he tried.
“ Hey” she texted back less than a minute later.
He smiled.
~
Percy was sore all over. It was a good kind of sore, the kind he only achieved six hours into an eight hour day, the kind that reminded him with every agonizing step up subway stairs that he got to work his dream job. It was also the kind that made him long for his bed, an ice bucket, and any music that wasn’t classical. With two hours to go, he was in fantasy land, imagining his couch, a Nina Simone record spinning on his mom’s old record player, and giving Estelle ten dollars to bring him whatever he wanted for the rest of the night so he never needed to stand up.
Outside, the sun had already set, meaning that the light of their rehearsal studio was pouring out into the city now. They were a few flights up, giving Percy a view of other buildings with their windows lit up. It would be cold when he stepped outside finally, freezing even. But in the studio, the air was hot. He was able to keep his breathing steady after so many long years of dancing, but the athletic component of dance never really let up. His skin was sweaty, and the air around him seemed to almost cling to his skin. There was a long V of sweat down the front side of Annabet’s rosy colored leotard. She’d cut her tights off at the knee, so the lower half of her legs were bare. He was sure tey both wanted to double over and take a long, deep, heaving breath. But they had fish dives to do.
When he and Annabeth parted from their final pose at the end of the act two pas de deux, Chiron concluded rehearsal with a single, solid clap.
Rehearsals had been going on for a month, and Percy felt he knew every step, every movement of the Prince deep in his bones. He hadn’t needed to think for a moment during the pas just then. Annabeth’s weight and balance was as familiar to him as his own. His muscles knew what to do, how to step and when. His body took over for his mind in those long minutes. And for as much as his muscles and lungs screamed for a break, they somehow found the will to carry on. His mind was empty of anything but pure joy as he danced. He felt excited to share it.
“Good work you two,” Chiron said first before going into some notes, some missed steps, moments where one of them wasn’t square or turned out properly, little things to keep working on. Annabeth smiled wide at him as they turned to leave the studio for the day. He could tell she was just as happy as he was. It was going to be great. “Get some rest,” Chiron told him. “Dress rehearsal starts next week.”
Dress rehearsals. They moved to the theater in a week, which meant the show went up in two weeks. Percy’s heart began to race as he realized how little time there was left with Annabeth.
Before Percy got the chance to tell Annabeth how great she had done that day, Piper ran up between the two of them, throwing one arm over either of their shoulders.
“You guys looked so good up there!” She said. “Have you gotten to try on your costumes yet? Because I tried mine on yesterday and it is gaudy, and borderline camp, and everything I’d want in a fairy,"
Annabeth snuck her way out from under Piper’s arm. “I tried on my act one costume yesterday. It’s the big pink tutu with roses on it,” Annabeth smiled fondly. “I looked like what every little girl imagines when they think ballerina.”
As opposed to all the other days, Percy thought, when you’re just a regular beautiful woman in a tutu.
~
Piper spotted him by the door on her way out. “You leaving Jackson?”
Percy shook his head. “In a minute. I’m walking to the subway with Annabeth,” he said.
“You two have prince and princess stuff to work out?”
“No, it’s just dark. Don’t want her walking alone.”
Piper tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Oh sure, and just let me die!” She said dramatically.
She was about to offer to walk her as well -- no reason it needed to be just him and Annabeth -- but Jason swooped out from some dark shadow and said “I can walk you, if you’re heading out now?”
Charming, Percy thought, as Piper graciously accepted her hand. Maybe he was developing some pathological aversion to blond men. Maybe he just didn’t like that Jason was a year younger and already more accomplished than he was. It had to be the blond thing.
Annabeth walked up to him a few minutes later. “You ready?” She asked as if he had been the one to take extra long to change.
“Always,” he said, holding the door open for her again.
The station nearest Lincoln center only ran the 1 and the 2, so most dancers rode it, even if it was only for a stop or two. Percy’s train went uptown, though, to 104th street, while hers went downtown to just fourth street. This meant that they could never wait for the trains together, and always had to say goodbye just beyond the turnstiles.
Despite the bitter cold air, and the way that New York streets became violent wind tunnels in the winter, Percy walked slowly, trying to blame his pace on their long rehearsal. Which wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t take off into a dead sprint right now if there had been a gun to his head, but still, he could have walked a little faster. But Annabeth seemed to be keeping pace.
“What a day,” she said. “Can’t believe it’s almost over.”
“I know,” it feels like we just started. Which, in many ways they had. The company had a set repertory, so they usually worked in condensed timelines, learning choreography quickly, and doing only a handful of performances before it was all over. Most ballets only got two or three weeks of rehearsal, if it was something the company did often. The length and intensity of a work like Sleeping Beauty meant the company needed more time. But despite the added weeks of rehearsal, their time together seemed to be flying by.
“How’d you end up all the way downtown?” Percy asked as he spotted the subway entrance across the street. They waited for the crossing signal, disputing the lack of cars. Percy fought his instincts to jay walk, staying glued on the sidewalk to soak in every stray moment he got.
The yellow of the street lights made her hair look even more golden, and the cold had turned her cheeks bright red. She turned towards him to answer his question, her gray eyes reflecting the lights. She pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to lick them to temporarily alleviate the chappedness. Percy’s lips were dry and chapped too, he knew. It didn’t stop him from wanting, more than anything, from leaning down in that moment and kissing her, forgetting his own question, and letting train after train leave the station before they even thought to move.
They’d kissed earlier that day. Six times in fact, running the awakening scene over and over. There was no way to fake a stage kiss. He knew, technically, what it felt like to kiss her, the same way he knew, technically, what it felt like to hold her waist, to have her body pressed close to his. But that wasn’t intimacy. It wasn’t real. It was his job. His mind and own sense of professionalism didn’t let him forget it or conflate the two. He knew what it felt like to put his lips against hers, the same way he knew what it felt like to hold onto her for a lift. He didn’t know what it felt like to kiss Annabeth. He suddenly felt desperate to know.
But she started to answer his question before he could find his courage.
“I liked the area,” she said, “and … Luke wanted to get out of midtown.”
“You're still in the same place, then?” Percy asked.
“Yeah, my name was on the lease. I didn’t really see a point in moving, once he left. It’s a good space,” she said, like she had something to prove to him. “He’s never tried to come back and bother me.”
“Would he?” Percy asked. He still didn’t know what happened between them, but despite all the fallout company-side he never assumed Luke would be the kind of man to show up at his ex’s house unannounced and unwelcomed.
But he saw a flicker of fear in Annnabeth’s eyes under the streetlights. The walk sign clicked on and she took off into the crosswalk.
“No,” she said, her voice wavering. “Anyway, I kicked him out. It would be pathetic for him to come back now.” She tried to smile, but Percy sensed her uncertainty. She fumbled in her wallet for her metrocard. He knew that false confidence that barely hid fear more than most did.
Percy took her hands in his, stopping them where they walked for a moment. She looked up at him, gray eyes wide. They’d never really touched outside of rehearsal. It seemed silly, Percy thought, to be so nervous about some hand-holding when they’d kissed six times today for rehearsal. But this was different, he knew it. He could feel it.
“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle. He knew what it was like to live with a cruel man, the embarrassment and shame of it, even after he was gone. In the years since Gabe died, he hadn’t heard his mother mention his name even once. But Gabe was ashes now; Luke wasn't. “It’s okay.”
“He’s in Portland,” she said, as if she was reminding herself more than telling him.
“And if he does show up again --” he stated.
Annabeth smiled and started down the stairs. “Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it, Twinkle Toes?”
“Oh big words from Ballerina Barbie,” Percy said.
Annabeth scoffed. “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that one, I could get Mattel to craft a Barbie in my own image.”
“Pretty sure they already do,” he said. It was meant to be jab, an insult. Instead, he’s pretty sure he just called her beautiful.
They went through the turnstiles, and were about to part ways when Percy found a little bit of courage. “Well, if you ever get tired of being alone and want a good home-cooked meal, my door is always open.”
“You cook?” She asked.
“A little, but really it’s my mom --”
“You live with your mom?” She asked suddenly. He couldn’t tell if there was judgment in her words. Most people usually did judge him, and he’d gotten used to rattling off defenses.
Percy blushed. “Not in a weird Greek tragedy way,” he said, before realizing that made it worse. “Yes, I do. I help pay for my sister’s school tuition in exchange,” he said. “Plus my mom makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the entire world, so …”
“Text me the details,” Annabeth said. “I’d love to join you guys.”
“I’ll save you some cookies,” Percy said.
“Alright, but remember, you’re the one who has to lift me.”
Percy was about to say something clever when the downtown train rolled in. “Shit!” Annabeth said taking off towards the train without so much as a goodbye.
Percy smiled. He’d just text her instead.
~
“So for your date tonight –“ his mom started.
“It’s not a date,” Percy protested. “It’s just Annabeth.”
“She’s coming all the way from downtown to meet you.”
“Well, yeah.”
“She’s staying for dinner.”
“Yeah.”
“You two are dancing together.”
“Mom!”
She held up her hands in surrender, before she asked him to pass him some spices.
“Seriously, though,” he said, “it’s not a date. If I had asked her out, our first date wouldn’t be in our apartment with you, Paul, and Stella around.” He stood at the counter, his back to her as he chopped the vegetables. “Besides, I don’t think she wants to be dating.”
“Well, I’ll still try not to embarrass you just in case,” she said.
“You know, it’d be great if you tried not to embarrass me at all ever,” he said.
She walked over and ruffled his hair. “I gave birth to you; I can embarrass you when and how I want. That’s the arrangement.”
“To be clear,” Percy said, “I did not ask to be born.”
~
Annabeth arrived half an hour before dinner started, and when Percy opened the door he watched her try to carefully stamp down a nervous expression. It was the Sunday before dress rehearsal, but he figured that wasn’t what was eating her.
“Hey!” He said, ushering her inside. “Glad you made it. Dinner should be ready soon.”
“Can I do anything to help?” She asked as Percy took her coat.
“No, my mom’s got a handle on it.”
She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a bottle of wine with a bow tied around it. “For you,” she said. “I um …” she stammered, “I didn’t know what else to bring.”
Percy took it graciously. He didn’t drink much at all, and never this close to shows. But his parents would probably enjoy it. “Thanks!” He said, trying to hide his excitement that Annabeth Chase was in his house. “Can I introduce you?” He asked, gesturing down the hallway towards the living room and kitchen.
He saw her try to hide a nervous swallow behind a taut smile. “Yeah, of course.”
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Oh, I just haven’t met parents in a while. And they tend not to like me,” she said, wiping her palms on her jeans.
“Who wouldn’t like you?” Percy asked, trying to pack his words with sincerity.
“Ha, I think if it were up to Luke’s father, I’d be laboring in a penal colony right about now,” she said.
Percy had a hard time imagining any of had gone down with her and Luke was Annabeth’s fault in the end. Luke had always seemed rude and unkind to him -- charming when he needed to be, but in that obvious facade kind of way.
“Apple doesn’t fall far, then, does it?”
“Don’t get me started,” Annabeth said, her tone joking, but her eyes a serious shade of dark gray.
“Well, lucky for you, my parents are great,” he said, starting them down the hall.
“It smells like they cook great,” she said.
“It’s the day before dress rehearsal. My mom’s gotta make sure we’re fed,” he said.
~
The introductions had gone just about as well as they could have. Annabeth graciously offered to help, but Sally politely shooed her away, insisting she had it under control. Percy had texted a warning to Annabeth about Estelle a few days ago.
PERCY : She’s ten & a dancer. She’s desperate to go on pointe Expect a lot of fangirling and questions.
ANNABETH: she sounds sweet <3
Annabeth happily joined Percy and Stella, where she kindly took the time to explain when a girl could go on pointe, and what it felt like to dance in pointe shoes. She even answered all of Stella’s follow up questions about how long it took to learn certain steps, or how she broke in her shoes now. These were the burning questions Percy had either never been able to answer himself, or that, when he did answer, Stella didn’t believe simply because he’d never worn pointe shoes himself.
Estelle rattled off details of her own training, offering Annabeth anecdotes about what kinds of pre-pointe training they were doing, and what her dance teacher was telling her about her development. Annabeth smiled, really listening to the girl, and offering input when she had it.
Soon enough, food started arriving at the table. Percy jumped up to help, while gesturing to Annabeth to stay seated. “You’re the guest,” he said.
They piled plates with lasagna and vegetables, and Annabet shot Percy a glance that read: remember, you have to lift me tomorrow. He tried to communicate back, I’m pretty strong, I can handle it.
“So, Annabeth,” Sally asked. “Where are you from?”
She hesitated. “The whole Chase family is from Boston. Most of my cousins are up there, but I was born in Virginia. I moved to New York for SAB at 14, though, and I’ve been here ever since. And my dad and his family now live out in San Francisco. So, all over the place, really.”
“Over ten years in the city, I think we can call you a New Yorker at this point,” Paul said.
“Eh,” Percy teased. “Still sounds a bit southern to me.”
“Only when I’m angry,” Annabeth fought back.
“I hope you’re not angry at Percy too often,” Sally said.
Percy shrugged as if to say I’ve always earned it. Admittedly, he’d never actually been on the receiving end of Annabeth’s rage. He’d seen it sometimes, most recently frustration at Leo, the young dancer who’d been put into the Rose Adagio. “Pay attention!” She’d snapped, a slight Virginia accent on her vowels, after another disaster of a run through. Mr. D, the ballet master for that rehearsal simply said, “She’s right. Do it again.”
Any fights between him and her had been little more than playful bickering, far away from rehearsal space. There, they were good at working together. Even in bickering fights, though, he sometimes caught the tail end of something not-very-Yankee in her speech.
“At Percy? Never,” she said.
Sally smiled at Percy. He could read her face loud and clear: Not a date?
“They took you into the company pretty young, didn’t they?” Sally said, turning back to Annabeth.
She nodded. “I was sixteen.”
“One of the youngest in the company,” Percy boasted for her.
Annabeth nodded.
“Was that hard?” Paul asked. “I teach high schoolers, and I couldn’t imagine any of them being professional anythings right about now.”
“Yeah, it was … grueling. I was pretty mature at that point. I’d been living away from home for two years already, but balancing company life with trying to finish high school …” she trailed off. “I’m glad most dancers are taken into the company later. I guess everything worked out for me, but it wasn’t easy.”
“Have you ever fallen down?” Estelle blurted. Percy shot Annabeth a sympathetic glance, silently apologizing for his family’s prodding.
Annabeth just smiled. “On stage? Oh yeah.” Estelle just stared at her, waiting for her to tell the stories. “I’ve fallen a few times, I collided with a dancer once, I once tripped my way off stage. I was even dropped once.”
“Did Percy drop you?” Estelle asked.
“No,” Annabeth said.
“She specifically told me not to,” Percy said.
“You need to be told not to drop people?” Estelle asked, an obvious dig. He loved his sister, but she was not immune to middle school girl meanness. Percy made an immature face right back at her, and she stuck out her tongue mocking him. When he looked back up, Annabeth was smiling behind her hand at him.
“I was dropped at the end of Romeo and Juliet,” she said.
Percy remembered the story. It was a month or so before he joined the company himself. Annabeth was nineteen, still in the corps, and in her first big role. She was thee Juliet. Beckendorf was her Romeo, and they had been doing a fantastic job. They were a few ballets in of the run at that point, and the one night:
“It was at the end, and Romeo has just found Juliet’s dead body,” Annabet explained. “He’s supposed to lift me and carry me down a few stairs, then dance with my lifeless body.” Estelle was listening closely, far more interested in Romeo and Juliet than Paul had ever gotten her to be. “And all of the sudden, I was falling down the stairs. But I was supposed to be dead, so I couldn’t open my eyes to see what had happened. But the music was still playing, so I just laid there and waited. Soon enough, I was being lifted and the dance started.”
Beck had slipped going down the stairs and sent both of them to the floor. Somehow, neither of them got seriously hurt in the process, and the dance was able to go on.
“But after that, Romeo and Juliet don’t leave the stage at all,” Annabeth said. “So we were just stuck on stage, not sure if we were going to be yelled at or fired, for twenty minutes. I still didn’t even really know what had happened.”
“Did you get fired?” Estelle asked.
“No,” Annabeth said, laughing a little, “Chiron loved it. He just said ‘I like it, keep it in.’ I guess from the audience it just looked like Romeo was so full of grief he couldn’t stand it.” She paused. “One of the ballet masters explained that he couldn’t just have dancers dropped every night. Someone would get hurt. So we never did it again.”
Only Annabeth and Beckendorf could fall so gracefully Chiron would consider changing the choreography, Percy thought. He hoped some of her grace might finally rub off on him.
Estelle took in the details of the story, before turning to Percy. “So how many times have you fallen?” She asked. Percy knew the answer was three, he remembered every one and thought about them all in the small hours of the morning when he was reliving his greatest mortifications.
“Well, I’ve fallen so much I’ve lost count,” he told her.
“Yeah, you would,” she said.
“Give your brother a little more credit,” Annabeth said. “He’s one of the best.”
“Then City Ballet must be in really bad shape,” she said.
~
“Could you make my hair look like yours?” Estelle asked as dessert wrapped up.
Annabeth touched her blonde curls, before looking at Estelle’s straight black hair. “Like mine?”
“The twist you do! I’ve seen rehearsal pictures. My mom only knows how to do the bun.”
Annabeth looked a little relieved and smiled. “Sure, we’ll need some bobby pins and a hair brush,” she said.
Estelle bolted from the table, and Annabeth took that as her cue to follow. A moment later, Percy heard them in the bathroom, calling his name.
“You ask him, he’ll do what you tell him,” he heard Estelle say to Annabeth, trying and failing to keep her voice low.
“Could you help us with something?” Annabeth asked.
Estelle was right though, and he stood from the table. “Not sure how I could help with a hair problem.”
A moment later, he was standing behind his sister, holding a hand mirror, so she could see the back of her head as Annabeth worked. Annabeth walked her through how she twisted her hair, gathering it at the nape of her neck, before looping it around two of her fingers, and simply twisting up.
“Alright,” Annabeth said, dropping the hair. “You try.”
It took her a few tries to really get a hang of the movements, and Annabeth offered feedback where she could -- “Pull tighter,” “twist slower.”
Soon enough though, Stella had a pretty good twist. “That looks great!” Annabeth said. She tucked the loose ends of Stella’s hair into the twist, before she started to pin it. “Pin it until you’re pretty sure it’s not going anywhere.”
“It’s just pins?” Stella asked.
Annabeth nodded. “That’s why I like it. It’s classic, elegant. But super easy. Next time I’m here, I’ll show you how we do the Balanchine buns for performances.”
“You have special buns?” She asked. Annabeth made an mmhum noise as she hair sprayed their hard work in place. “Percy never tells me anything.”
~
After a cumulative few hours of charming Sally and entertaining Estelle with ballet stories, Estelle was finally sent to her room (with a fair few complaints about it), and Sally and Paul retired as well.
“It was so lovely to meet you Annabeth,” Sally said. “Come over whenever you want, and make sure Percy sends you home with some leftovers.”
She and Percy sat down on the couch, finally alone. “I’ll head out soon,” she said, “I wouldn’t want to keep you up for too long.”
Percy looked at the TV clock. It was only nine. Estelle had been sent to her room conspicuously to give Percy some time with Annabeth alone, and his parents had done the same. He could hear Estelle loudly watching YouTube videos on her iPad in protest. “Hang out as long as you want,” he said.
“Your little sister is --”
-- a bit much?” Percy said.
“She’s sweet. I never get to tell old ballet stories, it was nice.” Annabeth broke off a part of a blue cookie. “Can I ask about the color?”
“Old inside joke with my mom. The stepdad before Paul told my mom there weren’t any blue foods. We decided to prove him wrong whenever we could,” he explained. It was a little act of rebellion for the two of them, something Gabe pretended to not care about or even notice, but those blue cookies and bags of blue candies, for a while, meant everything to Percy.
“And we like Paul?” She asked.
“Oh Paul is the best. That dorky dad thing he’s got going on isn’t just an act to charm dinner guests,” Percy said, biting into his own cookie. “He and my mom got married when I was fourteen, right before I started at the school. He paid for most of it. Huge improvement from Gabe who said he wouldn’t pay for any ‘fairy boy bullshit.’”
Annabeth frowned, her brows knit together. “That was the other stepdad? The no-blue-foods one?”
“Yeah,” Percy said. He didn’t want to think about Gabe too much, but he opened the door himself. “He’s gone now. He died. We used his life insurance to get a better place, and it covered my lessons at a better dance studio than the local YMCA.”
“How old were you?” Annabeth asked. “When he …”
“Thirteen, about,” Percy said. “I’d been dancing for less than a year at that point.”
“I always forget how old you were when you started,” Annabeth said. Percy just shrugged.
“What about you, are you close with your family?” He asked. He didn’t need her to recount her career. She’d covered enough of it tonight, and what little she hadn’t shared, Percy knew already.
She laughed at his question. “No, my stepmom was thrilled to pay for my ballet classes because the more I danced, the less time I spent in her house. They couldn’t wait to ship me off to New York at fourteen, and I was happy to go.” She paused. “They moved to San Francisco when I was sixteen. Just sent me an email one day about moving, asking if there was anything I wanted them to ship to me. Told me I had a week before they were out of the house.” She laughed coldly. “I was so spiteful at sixteen I told them that whatever I hadn’t taken with me to New York I didn’t want.”
“That sucks,” Percy said. Annabeth just shrugged. “Did you have anyone to help you?”
“Oh yeah, I mean --” she cut herself off. “I … Chiron was understanding. And I had the company girls.”
Percy doubted that she had the company girls. He remembered that for years girls and women in the company hated Annabeth and her success. Jealousy wasn’t uncommon in companies.
“Well that’s good,” Percy said noncommittally.
“Yeah, and before long, I mean, Luke was a friend for a little while,” she didn't look at him. “I know it didn’t work out, but he was really important to me for a long time.”
Percy nodded. His dyslexia wouldn’t let him do the easy math in his head, so he chose to just trust her that he was nothing but a friend until she was older. They were coworkers, after all.
Annabeth cleared her throat, trying to change the subject quickly. “So how’d you end up doing dance at 12?” She asked.
“I was kicked out of basketball,” Percy said. “I was a troubled, angry kid a lot of the time.” He didn’t tell her that he’d punched a kid who was bullying his friend Tyson for having down syndrome. His coach had just looked at him, exhausted, and said Just go home Percy, just go home.
“I needed something to do in the afternoons. Had to avoid my stepdad as long as possible. And dance had a spot.”
He smiled at the memory of his first few classes as he told her. “I didn’t have shoes when I started, and it was a week before my mom got paid. The teacher found a spare pair of shoes for me. They were a size too big and pink, but I wore them until they didn’t fit anymore. My mom had to sew up where my big toe had broken through. My teacher was great. She really saw something in me that no one else did. She pushed me to get into a better training program, and helped me get scholarships for it.”
Really, Percy wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without Miss Hestia. She got through to him, finally offering the encouragement no coach or teacher ever had before. Dance was something he’d never experienced before. When he actually started paying attention and trying his best, he found it quieted all the noise in his head. His ADHD energy was refocused on learning combinations, his anxieties about his home life melted away. For an hour every few days, there was nothing else but dance. Even at home, he could hide in his room, slip on his shoes, use his dresser as a barre, and play music in his head.
“Dance kept me out of a lot of trouble. When I got to ballet class, it was this quiet room with piano music, and no one was talking to each other. We all just plie’d in peace, and it was just so nice. I realized that if I put a lot into ballet, I’d get a lot out of it. So, I started to practice every night, and after six months, my teacher told my mom that I had to be in a better program if I wanted to be a better dancer, because she really believed that I could go the distance.”
He still spoke to Miss Hestia, and got her tickets to every ballet he was in. She was there every time.
Annabeth nodded. “I know how you feel. I mean, not exactly. I know I had a lot of help. A lot of money really. But, even just those nine months away from the company were agony.”
“Why’d you leave then?” Percy asked. He always assumed she just needed a break.
“Avoiding the fallout,” she said simply. “Mostly recovering from the breakup and injury.” Percy nodded, still not really clear on what she meant, but not wanting to push it any further. “But I actually spent the last few months back in Virginia at the youth company I grew up in. I did some choreography, led some classes, and kept up with my own training. It was nice to get out of the city for a while.”
“Can’t stay away from dance for too long,” Percy said.
“No, I hardly know how to take a break. If I’m lucky I sneak away one weekend every summer for a trip to the beach.”
“Long Island?” Percy asked.
“Jersey Shore,” she said back.
“Ew.”
“It’s nice!”
“It’s New Jersey!” She rolled his eyes at his indignation. “This summer, I’ll take you to Montauk beach.”
“Well, then I’ll take you to the Jersey Shore,” she said.
“Deal,” he held out his hand. They shook on it.
~
They stayed up talking and enjoying a few too many cookies for another hour. When Annabeth caught a flash of the time, 10:15p.m., She gasped.
“I had no idea how late it was getting,” she said, standing up. “I should head home and let you get some rest.”
“Do you want me to come with you on the subway?” Percy offered. “It’s getting late and you’ve got a long train ride.”
Annabeth shook her head and smiled. “Charming as always. I’ll just call an Uber,” she said, taking out her phone.
Percy nodded, picking up the tray of cookies. “Sounds good. I’m sending you home with at least half of these, though, or else my mom will kill me.”
Annabeth smiled. “If I don’t fit into my costume, I’m telling Silena that it’s your fault.”
Percy placed a few cookies in a zip-lock bag and handed it to her. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said. “Drop a few of these off at the costume shop, and she's guaranteed to forgive you.”
She zipped up her coat and forced her hat onto her head. Before she could say goodbye, Percy slipped on his jacket and shoes. “Let me walk you out,” he said.
~
They stood on the curb waiting for her car as snow started to fall. Percy looked up at the sky and smiled, watching the flurries fall in the light of the streetlamps. It was starting to stick to the cars, and by the morning the city would be covered in a pure white blanket, pristine and new.
“Thank you, again, Percy, for such a great night,” she said.
“Anytime, seriously. My door is always open.” He was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing and how beautiful he thought she was. There were times where he thought his crush on her was maybe just the result of admiration for her dancing. He thought that, maybe if he got to know her, he wouldn’t like her as much outside of the studio. But not after tonight. They were friends. He was sure of it.
Her Uber pulled up. “Annabeth?” the driver asked. Annabeth double checked the license plate number before confirming. She turned back to Percy to say a final goodbye.
That would have been the perfect moment to kiss her, as she stood under the snow, looking up at him, the yellow light of the streetlamp bouncing off her blonde hair. rehearsal kisses didn’t count. This would be an “I like you” kiss, a “let me take you out to dinner” kiss, it could be a wonderful, earth-shattering, life changing kiss.
But that kiss would ruin everything. Instead, he tried to memorize the way her eyes looked, and the way snow stuck to her eyelashes, and the way she waved goodbye to him from the window of her Uber.
Notes:
Dances referenced:
Act II Pas de Deux: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jfi2g_sFkqQ
Romeo and Juliet death scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyVMwD5DF_o
Chapter 4: Awakening
Notes:
Content warning: the next three chapters are going to get into Annabeth's relationship with Luke. There will be moments of bullying, verbal abuse, and revenge porn in this chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Percy slipped into his tights and doublet before slicking his wild hair down with enough gel to make sure it held throughout the ballet. He jumped up and down a few times to keep his legs warm. He shook out his hands, as if he could fling his nerves from his fingertips.
Their dress rehearsal started in a few minutes, but he had plenty of time; he didn’t go on until act two. Still, he wanted to feel ready – to be in his costume, hair, and makeup before anything started. It was safer for him that way. Sometimes his ADHD made it so that large chunks of time just disappeared from him, and if that happened during a show or a rehearsal, he could be caught, literally, with his tights down. Despite this being a recurring stress-nightmare every time he approached a show, it had never happened. Still, he liked to be ready.
He left his dressing room and began to wander backstage, telling passing dancers merde, the French word for “shit” and their company equivalent of “break a leg.” “Good luck” was bad luck. Shit was good.
He didn’t realize how much he wanted to see Annabeth until he ran into her. She was fully costumed-up too – pink, rose-adorned tutu, shoes on, hair back, her stage makeup insane up close but probably perfect from the seats. She was just doing some basic plies and tendus, using a stray folding chair as a barre.
She smiled when she saw Percy, stopping her movements. “Well, look at you, Prince Charming,” she said, smiling at his costume.
It was the first time either of them had seen each other in these. Percy knew what the Aurora costume looked like (the company had used the same design for decades), but it looked like it was suited for her, like she was the only one who had ever, would ever, or should ever wear it. The tutu and leotard were a light pink color, with roses embroidered on the tutu, which held its shape with layers of perfectly constructed tulle that, even though it was a pancake tutu, gave the illusion of a beautiful classic ball gown. The top was the same color, with more little roses snaking their way up the straps. The costume didn’t have sleeves, but she did have little ruffles around her upper arms. And for the full princess effect, of course, she had a tiny, rhinestone crown that would glitter fantastically in the spotlight. She looked beautiful.
“You look great,” he said.
She smiled. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”
“Well,” he said, crossing his arms and putting on an ironically cocky attitude, “who isn’t into a man in eyeliner and tights?”
Annabeth smirked. “I think it’s a great look that more men should embrace.”
He’d never actually seen her up close before a performance before. The closest they’d come was before Diamonds, but they entered from different parts of the stage. Really, he only saw her at company warm-up and then in passing. Now though, he could see what had brought her this far. Her face was beautiful, open, all the things it usually was. But she was also determined, focused. Not a stitch of worry anywhere. She wasn’t even really smiling. Everything was focused.
He was going to say something back to her, when the stage manager announced there were only two minutes until they started.
“You’re gonna kill it,” Percy said.
“Are you going to watch act one?”
He nodded. “At least your part. I might skip the fairies.”
She took a strong deep breath deep breath, before stepping up on pointe. Percy looked at her, confused by what she was doing. They were the same height when she was on pointe (it was one of the reasons they made a good duo). She looked him in the eyes, and for a moment, Percy thought she was going to kiss him, but she just leaned in and hugged him, resting her chin over his shoulder so she didn’t mess up her makeup before the show had even started. He hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close to him and to help her keep her balance.
She pulled away after a few moments, smiling at him, and fluffing down her tutu. “I’ll see you at intermission. My chair and I are going to try and stay warm in the wings.”
Percy nodded. “ Merde .” He said as she walked off towards the stage. “ Merde,” he heard her call back.
~
As the overture started, Percy headed back to his dressing room for his pre-show ritual of freaking out. His entire body buzzed with excitement about the idea of finally having the show up on the stage, but with terror at the possibility that he could fuck everything up.
It was only a rehearsal, technically, but it wasn’t the time for making mistakes. It was to get adjusted to the stage, not to fall flat on your face.
He headed past the stage door on his way to his dressing room but paused when he saw two familiar faces arguing in the doorway.
“Please, I just want to see her.”
Percy’s breath caught when he saw Luke, standing half inside and half outside of the theater, well-dressed and clean cut as always, fighting with Beckendorf, who, despite being on crutches, was holding his own against the other man.
“I don’t think she wants to see you,” Beckendorf told him. “Leave her alone.” He reached for the door, and tried to close it, but Luke put his hands out, stopping his efforts.
Luke’s face turned dark, no longer politely pleading to see his ex-fiancé. “Oh please. You think I can’t get past a cripple?”
Percy knew Beckendorf – he was a calm, level-headed man, but he could get angry and protective of people he cared about. The last thing Percy wanted was for the two of them to start really fighting backstage.
He walked up to the two of them, putting himself between them, forcing Luke further out of the theater. “What’s going on?”
“This asshole,” Beckendorf said, pointing at Luke with one of his crutches, “was trying to sneak in and cause trouble.”
“I’m not causing any trouble. I just want to see Annabeth,” Luke protested. He looked at Percy, trying to seem innocent, but Percy trusted Beckendorf’s opinion on Luke. Before Percy could say anything, Beckendorf shot back.
“You think that won’t cause any trouble?” Beckendorf said. He kept his volume down, but the anger in his voice made it sound like a yell.
“She’s got a job to do,” Percy added, looking at Luke. “She doesn’t need you getting in the way.”
Luke laughed at him. “What are you? The prince? You think that means something?”
“Yeah,” Percy said. “Means I’m good enough to still have a job with City Ballet.”
Luke tried to push his way in, but Beckendorf pushed the end of his crutch into Luke’s stomach as a warning.
“Alright Tiny Tim,” Luke said backing up. He turned his gaze back on Percy. There was an eerie coldness to it, something that he’d never seen from Luke before. He’d never liked the guy, but this was new, lower. His skin itched at the thought of Annabeth living under that gaze for so long.
“I’ve been in class with you,” Luke said to him, that gaze still on him. “If you’re the principal here, it’s only because Annabeth wanted a partner who she knew wouldn’t upstage her.”
He looks like Gabe , Percy realized. Luke might have been thin, washed, and handsome, but his tone, the look on his face, like nothing would make him happier than seeing you hurt, was a look Percy has become well acquainted with in the decade he lived with Gabe.
Percy wanted to hit him, to ruin his perfect smug stupid face, but he held back. He thought about telling Luke that no dancer, not him, not Beckendorf, and certainly not Luke, could ever upstage Annabeth, that she was fantastic all on her own and better off without him.
Luke could read his affection on her like it was written across his forehead.
“I saw you two dance ‘Diamonds’ together last year,” Luke continued. “I saw the way you look at her. It was pathetic, how bad you wanted her.” Percy’s blood started to boil. He balled his fists; Luke didn’t seem to notice, he just kept talking. “Has she finally let you fuck her?” Percy's face got hot. “Have you noticed the way she’ll pull on your hair when she --” Percy snarled and got ready to hit him, but now it was Beckendorf’s turn to hold him back.
“That’s enough,” Beckendorf said. Percy felt himself settle back into his body, the impulse to hit Luke disappearing, even if his anger didn’t.
“Annabeth is not your fiancé anymore, and you have no business being here,” Beckendorf told him, “or sharing details like that. I thought you’d learned that by now at least.” Percy didn’t ask Beck what he meant.
Luke frowned. Percy thought he might just force his way into the building. Instead he just took a step back. “Fine. Who’d want to watch this shitty production anyway? With two totally talentless leads, I’m sure it’s going to be just one disaster after another.”
He turned around and headed away from the theater. Percy wanted to chase him out and get him back for what he’d said. But he couldn’t do anything that would cost him his job or get him arrested, so he held back, staying in the theater, fuming with rage.
“None of what he said was true,” Beckendorf said, resting a hand on Percy's shoulder. “You’re a great dancer, and you earned your role.”
Percy brushed his hand off his shoulder. “I only got it because you’re injured.”
Beckendorf shrugged. “You always had your own cast. And you beat out all the principals and other soloists when they needed to replace me.” He said. “You know Annabeth has no say over the casting. Doesn’t matter who she’d want to dance it with. Chiron picked you.”
He’s the one, he has to be, Percy remembered her saying. He’d been so happy when he realized she’d been fighting for him to play the part. But now … Annabeth wanted a partner she knew wouldn’t upstage her, Luke’s voice rang in his head.
He got to the wings of the stage as the prologue was completing. He saw Annabeth, standing in position, ready for her entrance. He didn’t go up to her. He couldn’t. He knew she’d know something was wrong right away.
He hung back in the shadows, trying to calm down, as he watched act one. She looked happy and perfect as she flew across the stage.
He watched her dance as Luke’s words about her echoed in his head again. A partner who wouldn’t upstage here. Sure , he thought, that’s what I am . But soon, Luke’s voice started to fade, as he got lost watching the Rose Adagio. His thoughts took on a different tune. I’m not supposed to upstage her. The men rarely are meant to upstage the women. I’m here to support her. He had a different job than Annabeth. Luke’s problem had always been that he wasn’t very good at just supporting the ballet or his partner. Percy refused to be like that.
She wanted a partner who wouldn’t upstage her. He watched her spin beautifully.
He’s the one, he has to be. That was his friend up there, he realized. She wasn’t just some coworker, or even just an artist. Annabeth was his friend, and a good one at that. As he watched her accept roses from her four princes, he smiled. She would never do something like that, he decided. It wasn’t fair to her to believe the terrible things Luke said about her. She might have had a say in picking Percy, but it wasn’t because she had bad intentions. She was good. A good dancer, sure, but also just a good person.
He kept watching her, and kept smiling. And fuck, he thought, she’s so beautiful.
It was pathetic, how bad you wanted her. Percy shook his head, trying to get rid of Luke’s voice again. What an asshole, Percy thought. And so what if it was true? He did want her, and he did feel a little pathetic sometimes, laying awake at night thinking about her, dreaming of her. But he didn’t want to just sleep with her. And he certainly didn’t want to be cruel to her, or hurt her, which is more than he could say for Luke.
Percy watched as Aurora took the spindle from Carabosse, pricked her finger, and fell into her magical deep sleep. Travis, one of her four princes, caught her, and lowered her to the ground as she ‘fell.’ Percy laughed as he watched Annabeth gracefully and subtly lay a limp hand on her tutu to hold it down as she was lowered onto her back.
With two totally talentless leads, I’m sure it’s going to be just one disaster after another. Luke’s voice reminded him. It was one thing to call him talentless. But Annabeth? It was laughable. If she was talentless, there wasn’t a dancer in the world who could hope to impress him. Except maybe himself.
Percy’s heart rate picked up with anticipation as the curtain fell, signaling the end of act one. He went on soon; they just had intermission. Do your job, he told himself. That’s all you have to do.
“You are going to be great,” Beckendorf said, coming up behind him. “You two are great partners.”
Annabeth made her way off the stage and back towards him and Beckendorf, smiling wide.
He couldn’t tell her about Luke. At least, not right now. She didn’t need any distractions.
“Annabeth,” Beckendorf said, “perfect as always.”
She smiled and rolled her eyes as she started to rattle off all the steps, she had to quickly adjust to keep from losing her balance and the turns she overshot or landed out of time with the music. Percy barely listened though. It was pathetic, how bad you wanted her.
He watched her head back to her dressing room to get into her act two costume and change her shoes, wondering how an asshole like Luke had ever had the privilege of dating her.
~
The vision sequence went well; there were no major catastrophes, which was all they could really hope for. Percy rode out of the scene on the Lilac Fairy’s gondola, as the scene changed to Aurora’s room. Annabeth, back in her act one costume, was brought out on her bed, surrounded by her sleeping court. Scrims covered in branches and cobwebs fell, making the stage dark. Percy entered again, staring in awe at Annabeth, before going to Piper. What should I do, she’s asleep? He mimed to her. Kiss her. Piper mimed back. Percy blew a kiss to the audience, a way of saying: Of course! I’ll kiss her! Before making his way to her bed.
The kisses were always gentle pecks, just enough of a press of the lips for the kiss to read to the audience as real. And the almost-nearly-dead Aurora wasn’t supposed to kiss back. But when Percy leaned over and kissed her, he could have sworn she began to kiss back, just for a second it felt like her lips moved to meet his. It was so fleeting, he worried he might have imagined it.
Maybe he had imagined it. Or maybe it was an acting choice; it was a sign that Aurora had come back to life, and that she remembered him.
Percy didn’t have time to dwell on this kiss, though. The scrims began to lift, the lights came back to the stage, and Annabeth rose from the bed. The Lilac Fairy reintroduced them, and act two ended.
~
Percy stood backstage, sharing one last quiet moment with Annabeth, now changed into her white wedding tutu, before entering for the wedding scene. He had a few minutes to make it to the other side of the stage where he would enter, but he couldn’t dally for too long.
“Back where we started,” she said, smiling. He couldn’t help it, he smiled back. Percy looked at her. She had changed into her final tutu – a stunning white beaded costume. His costume was similar – all white from head to toe, but less sparkly. They were about to do the wedding pas de deux, the first dance they had done together for this ballet. But in their white costumes, they almost looked like diamonds.
Like “Diamonds”, Percy realized. At the dress rehearsal for Jewels, Annabeth had fallen and fractured her foot. But even before that, she’d seemed off -- her balance wobbly, her breathing harder and heavier than usual. When she’d landed on the stage, Luke just stared at her, not moving an inch to help her. Luke, he thought spitefully.
They had both left the company shortly after that. Percy wasn’t a religious man, but, as he looked at Annabeth, who, even in the darkness of the wings, was positively radiant, he sent up a prayer to any god that might listen, begging them to keep her on stage and uninjured the whole time.
He decided not to mention their last dress rehearsal together.
“How are your legs?” He asked.
She sighed. “Oh, about ready to fall off, but I think I can get through one last dance.”
Percy took her hand and squeezed it. “You’ll be great,” he said.
She squeezed back. “So will you.” It sounded like she really meant it, like she believed in him. Percy tried his best to trust her, but his confidence wavered as he walked off to his position.
He took a deep breath. It didn’t matter what he felt right now, he thought as they entered the stage, he had to be confident in this moment, or else Annabeth would literally fall on her face.
Partnering with a woman in a tutu was a challenge, because it was hard to see her legs. Percy just had to try and sense where her balance was as he pressed her into the air before setting her back down on her toes. He had gotten a good sense of her balance back when they had done “Diamonds,” and he had become even more familiar in the last few weeks.
All thoughts of Luke left his head as the music began. All thoughts of anything that weren’t dance left his head. Every anxiety, doubt, or fear fled at the first moment his foot touched the stage. All that mattered was that he and Annabeth danced together. Not as Percy and Annabeth, but as Aurora and the Prince. Artistry, technique, and passion mattered right now, not some asshole ex-fiancé. There was no one else in the world.
By the time they got to the first fish dives, Percy’s confidence was unshakable. They had spent time in rehearsal practicing these until Percy could do them one handed. Chiron insisted he do them one-handed, because Beckendorf always had. Percy didn’t think that was fair; Beckendorf was the best in the business. Percy was just in the business. But after weeks of rehearsal, they felt natural. He trusted Annabeth and she trusted him.
Annabeth would pirouette with Percy’s hand on her side. As she finished her last turn, he held onto her tight, lifting her up as she sent her face down forward and her legs up and back. They paused like that for a moment, before he lifted her back up for the second and third dive. They had to trust each other completely in these dives.
And they did.
They worked in perfect harmony, hitting every dive on the music. When Percy lifted her out of the last dive, they had a moment where they stared at each other, communicating to the audience that they were completely in love. Annabeth smiled wide at him, her face full of joy to communicate not just that Aurora loved her prince, but that she knew they were doing well. Or maybe, it was just joy at the fact that the ballet was almost over -- relief at knowing she’d be able to rest soon. It didn’t matter. She was happy and not flat on her face on the stage. That was all Percy wanted.
He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Estelle “I didn’t drop her.”
They finished the dance with the final fish dive. This time, Percy had to lift his hand off her waist, as she held herself up by wrapping one leg around his torso and squeezing every muscle in her leg and core as hard as she could. It was an amazing move to see from the audience, and Percy knew they had nailed it. He lifted her up, back onto her feet, as they went into their solos and the coda.
~
When the ballet ended, Percy had a moment backstage to catch his breath and dab some sweat off his forehead before running back out for the bows. After bowing to an audience of Chiron, a few company members, and a few ballet masters, he stepped to the side of the stage and watched as Annabeth entered for her final bow.
When he saw her, he felt his chest tighten with anxiety. The ballet had taken his mind off of Luke for long enough, but there wasn’t any avoiding it anymore. He had to tell her that he had come by to see her.
The memory of the conversation brought back doubts about his own abilities; sure, the rehearsal wasn’t perfect, and performances weren’t really ever perfect either, but he felt like he had done a good job. Well, except for the one set of turns during act two, and the quick choreography adjustment during his solo. Not to mention his near stumble during act three. He started quickly running through every minor mistake he had made, sure that Chiron would rip into him during notes. He looked at Annabeth again. She had been nearly perfect – as perfect as a dancer could be.
Two talentless dancers. Percy felt a familiar rage bubbling inside him; it was the same feeling he used to feel around his stepfather or class bullies, like he wanted to pick a fight, to yell at someone, to get even, to prove himself. He took a deep breath, trying to calm those feelings, but his efforts barely succeeded.
“And curtain!” Chiron yelled from the audience, in place of taking the effort to actually lower the curtain a final time. “Good job everyone. Principal and solo roles, be back on stage in half an hour for notes. Corps, expect your notes in an email later.”
Everyone nodded at the instructions and headed off the stage.
Percy headed off, but he felt someone grab his hand. “Percy, wait up,” he heard Annabeth say.
He turned around to face her, and her smile fell. “Are you okay?” She asked.
“Can I talk to you?”
She nodded and led him to her dressing room. Once they were inside, she closed the door, sitting in her vanity stool to take off her pointe shoes.
“What’s up?” She asked.
Percy took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair, which took some effort considering how slicked back it was for the performance.
“Luke was here earlier,” Percy said.
Annabeth sat up straight, leaving one shoe still on. “Oh.”
Her face was expressionless, like she was waiting for Percy to continue before she let her guard down.
“Beckendorf stopped him at the stage door. He – Luke – wanted to see you,” Percy continued. “Beck didn’t let him in.”
Annabeth nodded, bending down to take her other shoe off as she asked: “Did you talk to him?”
“A little, yeah,” Percy said. Annabeth looked up, her dead pointe shoes in her hand. She looked right through him; her gray eyes were emphasized by the exaggerated stage makeup. Her mouth was set in a straight line, like she knew he wanted to say more, and she wouldn’t say anything herself until he did.
“I, uh, just figured I’d let you know that he came by. It was before the rehearsal, so I thought it would be distracting to tell you then.”
Annabeth nodded slowly. “You were right to wait to tell me.” Percy let out a breath. “Did he say why he …?” She trailed off.
“Just said he wanted to see you,” Percy told her. “I joined later in the conversation. Beckendorf might know more.”
She nodded again. “I’ll talk to Back about it.” She paused. “Thanks for not letting him in.”
Percy nodded. The room felt tense, like he couldn’t say anything else, but he couldn’t leave. Annabeth stayed sitting, and Percy stayed standing on the other side of the room.
“Do you still talk to him at all?” Percy asked.
“No, we haven’t really spoken since …” she trailed off as Percy nodded in acknowledgement. “Did he, um … did he say anything else about me?” Her voice was tense with anxiety. Percy remembered the way Luke spoke to him as he looked at Annabeth, her face expressionless and starting forward at the wall of her dressing room. Percy didn’t know if she was trying to control rage or fear.
“ He talked some shit about the show,” he started.
She looked at him, curious. “What did he say?”
Percy shrugged. “Just some shit about how bad the production was going to be because … “ he paused for a moment and redirected, “because I’m a weak dancer.” She didn’t need to know the rest.
Annabeth stood up, indignant. “Don’t listen to him,” she said, walking over to him. She shook her head and stared at his chest as she spoke to him, like she couldn’t look him in the eye if she tried. “This is what he does, he wants you to feel small, and weak, and like you’re nothing. Just don’t …” paused for a second, before finally meeting his gaze. “Don’t listen to him. You’re a fantastic dancer, Percy.”
Percy nodded. He let the words settle in his mind, trying hard to really believe her.
“He also tried to …” Percy wasn’t quite sure how to continue. He replayed the memory. Has she finally let you fuck her? Have you noticed the way she’ll pull on your hair when she --. Annabeth was looking at him, worry in her eyes. “He tried to tell me … intimate details about you.”
“Did he show you anything?” She asked quickly.
“No,” Percy responded just as fast. “No, he just started to talk about you … pulling hair, but he didn’t get farther than that before we cut him off.”
She was staring at his chest again, not looking up at him, but he could see the tops of her ears were red. He wants you to feel small, and weak, and like you’re nothing. Percy had a feeling she hadn’t just been talking about him. He wanted to find Luke again and hurt him, make him bleed, make him apologize , but he took a few deep breaths, trying to rid himself of his anger. It wouldn’t help Annabeth.
“Are you okay?” Percy asked.
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “No,” she admitted after a moment. “But I will be.” She stepped away from him and started to dab her eyes with a tissue. “I’m just glad that if anyone had to find him, it was you and Beck. I mean, I’m sorry that he tried to hurt you too, but,” she rested a hand on his face, “you are a great friend. Thank you for protecting me and what little dignity I still have.”
She moved her hand, and Percy mourned the loss of her touch. “I’m grateful to be your friend,” he said honestly. “And you’ve got plenty of dignity.”
Annabeth just smiled softly.
“Do you want someone to stay with you tonight, since he’s in town?” Percy asked, hoping that someone might be him.
“Still offering to protect me?” She asked. It sounded like she was trying to joke, but it fell flat and serious. Percy nodded, earnest. “Charming.”
He wanted to hug her, but she had her makeup on still, and his act three costume was pure white. He wanted to kiss her but kissing a woman after talking about her ex-fiancé seemed like the wrong time.
But she was still looking at him. Her confusion and sadness blended with the confidence and pride he loved about her. She licked her lips just a bit, and there was suddenly a new tension in the room. Kissing her first would be a bad decision, he decided, but if she kissed first …
“Annabeth,” Piper said, knocking at the door of the dressing room. “I need to get changed, open the door.”
The spell was broken. Annabeth took a step away from him. "Just a second," she called to her. “I have to get changed,” she said to Percy, looking down at her white tutu.
Percy nodded. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
He stepped out of her dressing room, and saw Piper waiting for Annabeth in the hall. She was scrolling on her phone, so Percy tried to sneak past her, but the sound of the dressing room door closing caught her attention.
She gave Percy a sly smile when she saw him, and Percy felt his ears get red. “Oh, okay.” Piper said.
“Piper, please don’t – nothing happened –” he stammered.
She put up her hands. “I won’t tell anyone. Scouts honor,” she promised. “But time these things a little better. People will notice if you’re both late.”
Percy nodded, figuring that was the best he was going to get.
~
Percy was glad to see Annabeth smiling and laughing when she walked in, shoulder to shoulder with Piper. The two were whispering something back and forth like school girls. Piper caught Percy’s glance and wiggled her eyebrows at him. From the other side of the stage, she took out her phone and typed something. A minute later, Percy got a text message:
PIPER: We NEED to hang out with Annabeth more she’s great
Percy typed back: I know
He saw Piper angle her phone towards Annabeth, letting her read the exchange. Annbeth looked up, a teasing smile on her face as she winked at him. Whatever fear Luke had put in her was gone for now. Percy smiled and winked right back.
When notes were over, Percy offered to walk her to the subway when they were done, but she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m going to call an Uber. My legs are so tired I don’t think I could make it up the stairs.”
Percy laughed. “That’s fair.”
She stopped when they got to the curb. She turned towards him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Seriously, Percy, don’t dwell on what Luke said,” she was looking him in the eyes this time. “You’re really fantastic.”
He smiled. “So are you,” he said. “When you’re on stage, no one can take their eyes off of you.”
She shrugged and brushed him off. “That’s just because I’ve got the crown and big tutu.”
“No, it’s not,” he told her. “You’re always welcome at my place, if you don’t want to be home in case Luke comes knocking.”
She thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “I can handle him.”
“You sure?”
“I’ve got a baseball bat in my closet.”
She smiled and adjusted her dance bag. She looked like she was about to say something else, but her Uber pulled up. “Well, enjoy your few days off,” she said. “I’ll see you at the show.” She smiled and waved goodbye as she got in the car.
“Get home safe,” he said to her.
He didn’t wait for the car to leave this time; instead, once the car door closed, he turned and headed towards the subway, his legs aching with each step.
~
His infinitely kind mother had a bucket of ice ready for him when he got home. He sat on his bed, ice packs on his quads and his feet in the buckets, his back flat against the mattress. He took a few relaxing breaths, running through the high parts of the rehearsals – the solos he had done well, the compliments Annabeth and Chiron had given him. He also took stock of some of his corrections, noting some things he might work on in the couple of days before the show. He tried to keep Luke’s voice out of his head as much as he could as he ran through the notes, trying to focus on Annabeth. You’re really fantastic, she had said to him.
He checked Instagram and Twitter, liking a few photos company members had posted of themselves in their costumes. Annabeth had posted photos of her in her pink act one costume, and Piper had put videos of her and Annabeth goofing off in the dressing room before the show on her close friends' story.
When he ran out of social media to scroll through, he opened his email, hoping there wasn’t anything that needed his immediate attention.
He had a new email from an address he didn’t recognize. There wasn’t a subject or a body. Percy thought about deleting it right away, figuring it was spam or a virus, but the attachments caught his focus.
Annabeth 18 the first one of them read. There were at least six other attachments, all with her name on them.
Their company photographer sometimes sent production photos over. He was there today, taking pictures of the run. He clicked the first attachment.
He sat up straight when the photo loaded: it was Annabeth for sure, but she was much younger, topless and staring up at the camera from a spot on an unmade bed. He put the phone down next to him, unable and unwilling to look. It wasn’t the eighteenth photo in a collection, he realized. It was her age in the picture. Whoever had taken this did it in a moment of intimacy. Someone had pictures of a barely legal Annabeth, and they were sharing them with strangers.
You think I didn’t notice, Luke asked in his head, you want it, have it. Percy shook with range and anger. It couldn’t be Luke, he thought. They weren’t together yet. But who else could it be? Who else would do that? He looked at the email again, the photo closed this time. The email was a suspicious string of numbers. The other photos all had ages, ranging from eighteen to twenty-one
Percy’s hands shook as he closed the email. He’d let Annabeh decide what to do with the pictures, but he hoped she didn’t need to save it. He didn’t want these in his email for a minute longer than they needed to be.
He found Annabeth in his contacts as quickly as his shaking hands would let him.
He waited for her to pick up, worried that she might already be asleep, but she answered after a few rings.
“I know you’re a gentleman, but you don’t need to call me to make sure I got home okay,” she teased.
“Sorry, I didn’t … I mean, that’s not why …” he couldn’t put his words in order. He hadn’t thought about what he would say to her.
“Is everything okay?” She asked.
“Did you just send me an email?” He asked her. Maybe it was her. Maybe this was some strange twisted foreplay.
“No,” she said. His heart sank with a terrible knowledge. “Why?” She suddenly sounded nervous, the playful tone gone from her voice, like she knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“Because I think someone just sent me something you wouldn’t want me to see.”
Notes:
Dances mentioned in this chapter:
Aurora falls asleep: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZV3R_D48pTs
Awakening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSvNjhEPh7I
Chapter 5: Rubies
Summary:
Jewels, part one
Notes:
CONTENT WARNING: This chapter gets into the bulk of what happened between Annabeth and Luke. This includes revenge porn, verbal abuse, threats, and, the biggest, references to a relationship when she was still underage and grooming. Heed the tags, Luke is a very not good person in this.
This chapter is not plot-heavy. It gives context to Annabeth and Luke's relationship, it's end, and her friendship with Silena and Beckendorf. But, if you need to skip it, you won't miss much in terms of the Percabeth plot.
I'll be posting part two in a few days.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ten Months Ago:
Beckendorf stood in the back of the “Diamonds” rehearsal. He’d been scheduled to learn it, but if history and Chiron’s pleased look were any indication, he’d never dance it. He’d learned nearly every part of “Diamonds” and “Rubies” over the course of his ten-year career, but he’d rarely stepped on stage in anything but emerald green since his promotion to soloist. Annabeth had similarly been slated to learn “Emeralds” many, many times, but she always ended up in “Diamonds.”
Percy, on the other hand, had danced just about every part of Jewels except for the solos. So when he looked at the rehearsal sheet and saw it indicated he was to learn Rubies pas de tois and the Diamonds pas de deux , he stared at Beck blank-faced.
“You’re a soloist,” Beckendorf reminded him. “This is what you’re here for.”
Final casting had come out last week, two weeks before the show was set to go on. Repertory ballets like these didn’t need as much rehearsal as something big like Romeo and Juliet or Sleeping Beauty. They all pretty much knew every part. Beckendorf wasn’t surprised to find himself in “Emeralds” again. And he wasn’t surprised to see Percy and Annabeth cast for “Diamonds.” In the last week or so of rehearsal before casting, Chiron had taken to double booking Percy’s rehearsal, pulling him from “Rubies” into the “Diamonds” rehearsal more and more frequently.
Still, Beck needed to stand in the back and study the dance again, just in case Percy went out. Standing in the back and watching was always the hardest part of his career, he felt. Sure, the jumps could be rough on the knees, but just standing was the real killer.
He smiled as he watched Percy turn her around, perfectly on time with the music. Beckendorf had only spent eleven months in soloist purgatory (although it had taken him three years to reach that rank); he was sure that after three years in the corps and four years as a soloist, Percy was working as hard as he could to prove himself a principal. He sure did look like one as he and Annabeth continued their dance.
Beckendorf didn’t remember his own short stint as a soloist very fondly. Almost overnight, he had gone from dancing six ballets a night to one solo in one ballet following his promotion. Even though he had more solo time, his time on stage decreased, and he was never first or even tenth in line for principal roles the way he was now. For eleven months, he was desperate to get on stage and to get promoted. He didn’t know how Percy had managed living in that limbo for four years.
If anyone had earned their promotion by now, it was Percy.
Beckendorf watched the ballet master’s eyes track Percy’s technique, face, and movement, paying little attention to Annabeth. He smiled; they were testing him, and Percy was acing the exam.
~
Beckendorf ran into Luke in the showers. “Hey, saw Annabeth dance earlier. She looked good.”
Luke smirked as he got changed, heading into his own rehearsal. “Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Shame she has to dance with Jackson.”
Beckendorf furrowed his brow. “Percy’s a great dancer.”
He was never exactly sure how or when he and Percy had become such close friends. It wasn’t a secret that Percy had grown up a poor kid, a late starter. He’d done a few interviews here and there about his background. Beckendorf was used to those interviews himself, the “tell us the story of your overcoming.” Where Percy had poverty, Beckendorf had race. People often assumed he also had poverty, usually because of his race. He’d grown up upstate going to private schools and good ballet programs. But he had never been that comfortable as the (usually) only Black man in the room. He was praised for overcoming a problem the ballet world created and hesitated to solve. His tour with the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre that past Fall and Winter season was a welcomed break from the traditional dance world, as he danced the contemporary all-Black ballet Revelations across the country.
New York had a hold on his heart though, and not just because of Silena.
Percy was nice, about three years younger than him, but just as determined and driven to prove himself the way Beckendorf had been. As Percy rose up through the corps, he ended up understudying Beck most of the time. They had similar heights and personal styles. Percy could easily slot in to replace him if he was ever injured. Soon enough, though, Percy started to stand out on his own. Opus Nineteen had been his breakout. Beck had hurt himself. Just a small pulled muscle that kept him out for about two weeks. Percy had hours to prepare to go on, but then, there he was. Like he’d been the one dancing it in rehearsals and dress the whole time. He was adaptable. When they ran Opus Nineteen on the summer tour, Percy had been given the lead role out right. It got him his promotion to Soloist.
So if Luke was going to try and talk shit, he was going to have to do it about another person.
He scoffed. “You sound like Annabeth. I swear, he’s all she talks about.” Luke went back to pulling sweatpants out of his bag.
Annabeth was another person he wouldn’t stand shit talking about. But he didn’t expect it from Luke. He’d proposed to her after all. Beckendorf had recently gotten married himself, and he struggled to think of a single thing to complain about, besides, maybe, the state of their bathroom vanity.
He and Annabeth were the only two apprentices pulled for The Nutcracker the year they joined, and they became partners in pain. Forty-six shows, no skips. Nothing but snowflakes and flowers for Annabeth for two months. Beckendorf got off easy, just party scene and Spanish dance. But still, every day, sometimes twice. She might have been two years younger than him, but there was a fierceness to her that, even at sixteen, made her feel so much older. She could be scary when she wanted, but mostly he knew her to be a sweetheart. She made Luke a better person, that was for sure. He glanced around, hoping she might walk by to curb her fiance’s behavior, but the men’s bathroom wasn’t somewhere she was likely to be.
“I’m sure you don’t have to be jealous of Percy,” Beckendorf said. He talked to Annabeth pretty often, and he didn’t think she spent too much time gushing about Percy by any measure. As far as he could tell, Annabeth loved Luke more than anyone.
“I know,” Luke said, the smile back on his face. “She pretty much begged me to marry her.”
Beckendorf paused. He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic about getting married. But he’d seen the pictures. Him on one knee, ring box in hand. He didn’t want to pry, but he felt like he had to ask.
“Do you not want to –”
Luke cut him off before he could continue. “Check these out,” he said, holding up his phone. “Bet Jackson wishes he could see these.”
Beckendorf looked away as quickly as he had looked at the phone. “What the hell, man?!” He yelled. Luke had shown him a wall of photos of Annabeth; the images had been thumbnail size, but it didn’t take long to notice that she was nearly or completely naked in all of them. “She’s your fiancé!”
“Aren’t I lucky?” He said casually.
Beckendorf tried to wrap his head around what had just happened. He felt like he was in some kind of deranged dream that he would wake up feeling guilty about. But it was real, hauntingly real.
He and Luke had been in the company together for years, but they had never been close. Beckendorf didn’t even show Luke photos of his and Silena’s honeymoon. He couldn’t figure out why Luke thought what he had just done was appropriate.
“You shouldn’t show people those,” he said finally. He felt dumb saying it, like it was so obvious. Maybe it had been a mistake, he thought. He meant to show one photo, but had it in his library. But then again, they’d all been … like that.
“Please. She wouldn’t care.” Luke said, trying to show him again. He put his phone away when Beckendorf leaned back, avoiding him completely. There was no mistake then. He knew what he’d done. His confusion melted into something else.
He felt himself getting angrier with each response Luke gave. Beckendorf had great respect for Annabeth and counted her a friend. He couldn’t understand why Luke would expose intimate pictures of her, especially to him.
“Have you asked?” Beckendorf asked, trying to keep his voice below a yell.
Luke didn’t answer his question. Instead he told Beckendorf: “Relax,” with a suave calmness, as if he hadn’t just shown Beckendorf dozens of naked photos of Annabeth.
Luke’s calmness pushed Beckendorf’s anger over the top.
“Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?” Beckendorf yelled, getting in Luke’s face, holding back the urge to throw Luke against the wall.
The door opened. Before Beck could process who it was, he was being pulled back. “Easy,” Percy said. “He’s not worth it.”
Percy was right. He couldn’t hit Luke. If he did, he could lose his job or be arrested. Beckendorf grabbed his bag. He placed a hand on Percy's back and pushed him back out the door with him. If Percy stayed in there, Luke might try his little stunt again. And Percy had less patience for bullies than Beckendorf did. Neither of them needed to end their careers over that weasel.
~
“What should we do about this?” He asked Silena as they left the studio.
She shook her head. She wished she had been more surprised by what Charlie had told her, but she knew Luke better than a lot of people. Dancers rarely thought about who in the costume shop was listening to them. To a lot of dancers, costumers were just as inanimate as the tutus. Luke and his friends were hardly the exception.
He had seemed nice at first – charming, sweet, all those things. But then he’d flirted with her a little. He even tried to degrade Beckendorf, trying to pull her away from her then-boyfriend. He was already with Annabeth at that point, and she wasn’t careful to keep her voice low when she reminded him that they were both taken. It didn’t help that Annabeth’s career had begun to take off; she was earning leads, first-cast roles, and getting promoted through the ranks quickly. His had begun to plateau. He was already a principal (a well-respected one, at that), and he was eight years older than her. At thirty-three, his career was entering its sunset phase, and hers was on the rise.
More recently, she’d heard him trying to undercut her accomplishments to other dancers, attempting to take credit for roles and promotions she earned, but she had never expected him to do something this low.
“We have to tell her,” Silena said. “We can’t let him keep doing this without her knowing.”
Charlie nodded. He had expected that answer. Still, it didn’t mean telling Annabeth was going to be any easier.
~
Annabeth wasn’t stupid. No matter how cheerful Silena had tried to sound on the phone (“Can Charlie and I drop by for a few minutes?” she had asked) that something was obviously wrong. She and Beckendorf were close, of course. They had done most of their partnering together for the last three years. But they didn’t hang out outside of rehearsal that often, and they didn’t just ‘drop by.’
What they were coming to talk to her about, though, was a mystery. She catastrophized of course – worse case scenarios all over the place – and she tried to rationalize – your friends just want to hang out.
When she opened her apartment door for them and saw their grim faces, though, she went back to catastrophizing.
“Can we come in?” Silena asked.
Annabeth stepped aside and let them in. “Make yourself at home,” she told them. She had started boiling some water when they were on their way and went over to the small kitchen area to pour the tea. “Can I get you anything? I made us some tea,” She said.
They both declined but accepted the tea silently.
The two of them sat on Annabeth’s couch, while she sat in the big chair at the foot of the coffee table.
“So, what’s up?” She asked, trying to hide how terrified she was of the answer.
The two looked at each other, as if they hadn’t rehearsed this part. Annabeth looked in between them, waiting for an answer.
“How are things with you and Luke?” Silena asked.
Annabeth smiled a confused smile. “Fine,” she said, “same as ever.” Their wedding was coming up soon. The end of spring, during the company’s five week break. It was stressful planning. Luke was controlling, but then unhelpful with the actual planning. But she’d always been great at organizing, so she had it under control. Same as ever. Making him happy. “Why?” She asked.
“He just,” Beckendorf said, “he said some weird things to me today.” Annabeth stayed quiet, waiting for him to keep going. “He seemed jealous of Percy.”
Annabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She barely knew Percy, but Luke perceived him as a threat because … well she wasn’t even sure why. He was a good dancer, younger than him, and handsome. But Beckendorf was all of those things too. So were plenty of company men. She didn’t understand Luke’s obsession with him.
“I couldn’t tell you why,” she said. “But this isn’t the first time that’s been a problem. I’ll talk to him, don’t bother Percy with it.”
That hardly warranted a special trip to her apartment, though, she realized.
“What’s really the problem?” She asked, her heart rate increasing as different possibilities raced through her head.
They were both silent, but she stared at them, eyes demanding they confess.
Finally Beckendorf took a deep breath, looked her in the eye and said: “Luke tried to show me nude photos of you today.”
Annabeth shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as she let out a small laugh of disbelief. Beckendorf’s words bounced around her head but her mind refused to process them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “what did you just say?”
Silena nodded. “Luke tried to show him a bunch of naked pictures of you that he had on his phone.”
“How?” She asked, her mouth barely making words. It seemed so unbelievable she needed to have a clearer picture of the whole thing.
“He just showed me his photo album on his phone. It was … dozens of them maybe, all at once,” he said.
Annabeth shook her head again, her mouth open, trying to find words or a deep breath, but both escaped her. Time seemed to halt as what Beckendorf had just told her sank in. She felt her mind and emotions go numb to the news, her anxiety subsiding suddenly and inexplicably. She knew he took them. She posed for them. She thought it was just some kink thing he liked to do. She didn’t even realize he saved any of them, let alone had saved enough that there were dozens in a photo album he could show off whenever.
It had never occurred to her to tell Luke not to show them to anyone. That seemed like the general rule around nude photos. Keep them private. To show them to any company member … to show them to her friend? The room felt slanted. She wasn’t sure if her eyes were filling with tears or if her vision was just blurring on its own.
Of course he would, a small voice she’d been suppressing said in the back of her mind. He will always be this way. She looked down at her engagement ring. It was a big ruby circled by smaller diamonds. How funny , she thought.
“Why?” She finally asked.
She felt herself come back into her body, no longer floating in a tilted, blurry world. Her stomach twisted up in a knot of betrayal and anger, one that she’d gotten used to feeling with Luke. His less-than-perfect personality traits rose up sometimes, and he lashed out at her. When this knot untwisted, she knew it was mostly crying. But usually Luke was there to apologize, to hold her, to promise he loved her. But he wasn’t here, and that knot tied itself tighter.
Why? She thought.
Why would he do that? Why would he do that to me? Why would he show that to you? Why did you tell me about it? She wanted to yell. Anger gripped her gut, and she felt like she could run the eighty blocks to the studio and make a scene in front of his rehearsal.
“I, uh …” Beckendorf paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer, “I think it was because he was jealous of Percy. You and Percy.”
Annabeth leaned her head back. She felt like she could scream as the rage bubbled up, finally finding words to attach itself to.
“He always does this!” She said, standing up and pacing around her living room. “I mean, seriously, if I say I like partnering with someone who isn’t him, and we never partner together because he’s too tall and he knows that, he takes it as some personal attack or some sign that I’m cheating. And I’ve never cheated on him!” She had her doubts about him, though, not that he’d ever admitted to anything.
She folded her arms on the back of the chair, resting her head in them. “Fuck! I can’t even compliment a coworker?” She yelled towards the floor. “And now …” she paused and looked up. “Why would he show them to you?” She asked.
Beckendorf shrugged. “I told him how good you are Percy looked at your rehearsal, he said some jealous things about Percy, then showed them to me, saying that he bet Percy wishes he could see them. I don’t know if he wanted to prove something to me or tell Percy about them or what.”
Annabeth sat back down in the chair, sinking low into the cushions. The knot in her stomach started to unwind, her anger subsided, and was replaced with a deep and overwhelming sadness that seemed to rip through her chest as she began to sob.
They had gotten into a fight last night over Percy. She had mentioned over dinner that she thought he would be promoted to a principal by the end of the summer, and Luke had gone quiet, ignoring her for the rest of the meal. She knew what he was waiting for: an apology for upsetting him.
She hated doing that. When she was younger, the apologies came easier. She found herself apologizing for crying when he yelled at her.
“I made me cry,” she had once told him, “I knew that doing that would upset you.” She had gone to Helen’s apartment for an all-soloists party without Luke, who, as a principal, hadn’t been invited. He had asked her not to go at all, claiming he didn’t trust other guys to behave around her. She assured him that she could handle herself. A few drinks later, it was just her, Helen, Katie, and a few others left, all getting ready to just crash on couches, air mattresses, or beds. When she called him to tell him, he yelled at her until she was crying in Helen’s bathroom. If Helen had known why she was crying, Annabeth was sure she would have advised breaking up with him on the spot, but, instead, Annabeth faked a panic attack and used that as an escape.
Because she loved him. So much of the time she loved him, and their relationship was fun, and passionate, and loving. Eighty percent of the time, he was the perfect guy.
And twenty percent of the time, he sat quietly through dinner, waiting for an apology for something so minor. When she was about twenty, she learned that it was easier to just offer the apology and move on.
“Sorry.” She said to him finally.
“I don’t know why you do that.” He said. “You know it upsets me.” Luke said, not looking at her.
“He’s just my dance partner.” She protested.
“Well, you sure do think a lot of him.”
“I think that he’s talented, yes.”
He looked up at her. The hanging light fixture over their kitchen table reflected in his eyes, making them almost look gold instead of blue. Annabeth sat up straighter, ready for a fight if there was going to be one.
“You can’t keep doing this to me,” she said finally. “I’m not a child anymore.”
His eyes darkened, fixing on her. “Is that really what you think of me?” She clenched her teeth, bracing herself. She shouldn’t have said it, she knew that, but before she could get her apology out, his hand gripped his glass. She caught a flash of it in her periphery as it sailed past her head. She ducked, a yelp leaving her mouth as she heard it hit the wall behind her and shatter.
She lifted her head up from under the table, and didn’t catch an ounce of remorse in Luke’s eyes. You could have hit me, she tried to say, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth.
Luke only continued, the same anger darkening his eyes. “You were never a child, Annie. Don’t blame me for the things you did to me. I was perfectly happy before I met you.”
Annabeth slumped back in her chair, the fight out of her.
Luke just stood up, plate in one hand, and dropped the dish in the sink, before heading towards the door. “I’m going out.” He told her.
When the door slammed behind her, she let out a deep breath, sinking into her seat, trying desperately not to cry. Not for him, not again. After a moment, she stood up and went to the sink to clean up. Luke’s plate was broken in the sink, cracked into three larger ceramic pieces, with little shards decorating the rest of the basin. Annabeth took a deep breath again, and placed her own plate over the broken one, resolving to clean it up later.
The plate was still in the sink today. Luke had come and gone so quickly this morning, he never noticed. She hadn’t bothered to deal with it yet.
Annabeth knew Luke was a lot of things -- most of them good, some of them … But she hadn’t expected this from him. To show someone something so private and without much reason. For what? To make Percy jealous? Beckendorf jealous?
She knew the answer had nothing to do with either of them. He was still mad at her, and what little he could still take from her, he would. There were truths about her relationship with Luke that were crystal clear if she thought about them for long enough, but they were terrifying to deal with.
But she loved him, she reminded herself, and they were great together so much of the time. He had promised her that they would be together and be a family. She hadn’t wanted to get married so young, but they had been together for years. When he proposed he had promised her all of that: family, security, permanence. Everything. It was everything she ever wanted, ever needed. He could give it to her.
He had been on edge since she became a principal, constantly worried that she would outshine him. “I’m afraid you’ll get too good,” he had said jokingly soon after he had proposed, “and then you’ll leave me.”
It was an irrational fear – he was a great dancer, and so often male choreography existed to make the female dancer look stunning as he blended into the background.
He was never good at blending, though. He had to be the center of his own career and hers.
“You can’t do this without me, Annie,” he said during their last summer tour. It seemed almost unprompted; she couldn’t remember what she’d said to him before he started talking. “You’ve never been good at navigating these things on your own.” What things? That nagging voice in her head asked. It’s been eight years. I navigate it all just fine.
“I’d be lost without you,” she said. He took her hand and kissed the engagement ring he’d given her only a few weeks before.
“Don’t you forget it,” he said.
And now …
And now.
She looked up when she felt Silena’s hand on her shoulder. She offered her a tissue.
“Are you going to be okay?” Silena asked.
Annabeth shook her head, not quite sure how to respond.
“I just didn’t think he hated me this much.” She said after a moment.
“Oh honey,” Silena said, pulling her into a hug as she kept crying. Silena didn’t try to convince her that he didn’t hate her, or that he had just made a mistake. She just held her and let her cry.
After a moment, Annabeth sat back up, and found herself talking in circles about her relationship with Luke; Silena and Beckendorf’s faces became more upset and angrier as the stories piled up.
Finally, Annabeth paused to drink her tea. Silena sat back on her heels and told her, “You can’t marry him.”
Annabeth sat up straighter, mug still in her hand. “Please don’t tell me what to do.”
Silena nodded. “I’m sorry, but …” Annabeth could see her searching for the right thing to say.
“If he hurts you like this now,” Beckendorf said, “it’s probably only going to get worse when you’re married.”
“It’s not like he’s ever hit me.” Annabeth said, putting her mug back on the table. That was true enough. He’d broken dishes, glasses, one lamp, but never her.
“But he controls you,” Silena said, “and he undermines you, and he violates your privacy. That’s not any better.”
Annabeth took a shaky breath. “I just … I don’t know what I would do without him.” The little voice was silent in agreement.
“Anything,” Beckendorf said, “you could do anything without him.”
“But we’ve been together for so long,” she said. “So much of the time it’s so good.”
“Is it so good?” Silena asked. “Or do you spend most of the time waiting for the next time he gets mad at you?”
Annabeth hung her head and began to sob again. I can’t marry him, she thought for the first time. She had had doubts before, but she figured every bride had doubts. But Silena’s question had broken through walls in her mind that kept those doubts out. Was she happy? I can’t marry him.
“I just don’t want to be alone.” She admitted, still crying.
“Honey,” Silena said, “as long as we’re alive, you’re never on your own.”
Annabeth looked up and leaned forward quickly, pulling Silena in.
“I know you’ve been together for six years –“ Beckendorf started. Annabeth didn’t let him finish his sentence.
She took a deep breath, and before she could remember to be afraid, she let it all come out. “It’ll be ten years this December.”
Silena pulled away from the hug and looked at her. “Aren’t you twenty-five?”
Annabeth nodded.
She was sixteen and headstrong. Sure-footed with a chip on her shoulder. And Luke spotted her right away. He was twenty-three and gorgeous. When he gave her a little bit of attention, she nearly fell over herself trying to get more. He was distant at first, then warmer. She showed off for his attention, spending Nutcracker rehearsals trying to find him, to meet his eyes, to stand out in the crowd of snowflakes. She sought him out even when he tried to keep his distance.
Finally he confessed: “I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” he told her. It seemed so honest to her at sixteen. Then the “but we can’t be together.” He was a principal. She was an apprentice. He didn’t mention their ages. But she was persistent.
“We can keep it a secret,” she suggested.
Finally he agreed to take her out. “You’re not like the other girls,” he told her. “You’re smarter. I really feel like I can talk to you, trust you.” Annabeth nodded, glad he saw what she felt too.
Afterwards, he brought her back to his place, and gave her a glass of wine. When he asked if she’d ever slept with anyone, she lied and said yes. Light headed from her first drink and the overwhelming excitement of being in his apartment, she let him lay her down on his bed and take her. He was so gentle, and it even felt nice.
The first time he got mad at her -- really mad at her -- was when she confessed that she had been a virgin. He must have suspected, she always thought. But he took the chance to berate her for lying anyway. “How can I trust you to keep our secret if you act this way?” He said. But then he held her when she cried. No one had ever cared for her like that before.
Did he ever care about you? The voice asked. She wasn’t just headstrong at sixteen. She was lonely and vulnerable. What little family she had had left her in New York years ago to fend for herself. She might have sought his attention, but he let her, he cultivated it. He took her at sixteen and never once expressed shame about it.
She looked back at her friends, and decided to be honest for once.
“We went on our first date after my first Nutcracker season as an apprentice.”
Silena gasped and leaned on the coffee table for support. Beckendorf just muttered, “Jesus Christ,” to himself. His skin looked ashen, and she could almost see him running through memories of their first year in the company together, trying to find the signs. Annabeth caught his eye and shook her head. I’m not mad at you. We didn’t want anyone to see it. His eyes were wide and apologetic back, as if to say, it doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.
Silena looked more shocked than Annabeth had seen her in the entire conversation. “You could really take him to court for this,” she said.
Annabeth hadn’t thought of that. Of course, she had known that their relationship was illegal. They’d kept their relationship a secret well beyond her eighteenth birthday for that reason. But it had never occurred to her to press charges over it. Especially not considering she was planning on marrying him.
“I don’t know,” Annabeth said. “I don’t even know what to do about right now.”
“Are you going to break up with him?” Silena asked.
I can’t marry him, she thought again, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. “I don’t know. I mean, an hour ago I was happily engaged, and now I don’t know what I am. It’s all just a lot, and I want to talk to him about everything and just … get things sorted out.”
Silena nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by the door opening.
Annabeth’s eyes met Luke’s, before he scanned the rest of the apartment, shooting accusatory looks at Beckendorf and Silena. Beckendorf stood up, staring at Luke before asking Annabeth, “Do you want us to stay?”
“No,” Annabeth said, “you guys can leave.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Silena asked.
Annabeth nodded, and she hoped that was true.
~
When the door closed behind them, Luke turned to her, his eyes calm. “What were they up to?”
Annabeth looked at him in disbelief. “You really have no idea why they were here?”
Luke ignored her puffy eyes and runny nose and sat on the couch. “What did they tell you?”
“So you do know?” Annabeth asked. She stared down at him, waiting for him to admit to what he’d done.
“I don’t understand why you’re upset,” he said to her.
She almost laughed at him, she was so angry. “Are you kidding?” She asked. “You violated my privacy, you exposed me to another dancer!”
“You’re mad at me because I love you? Because I think you’re beautiful, and I want to show you off?” He asked.
Annabeth stood up from the chair and walked away from him. “That’s not what you did, and you know it.” He didn’t look guilty or remorseful. He just stared at her like she was the one in the wrong, like she was crazy for not seeing the situation from his point of view. His indifference felt violent. “We were going to be a family, Luke.” She said, her voice quivering. “You promised.”
She walked towards the kitchen, unable to look at him.
“Don’t be dramatic, Annie,” he said. She winced. “We are going to be a family.”
Annabeth sobbed again. When he’d said it on one knee, it was so promising, so romantic. Now, it sounded like a threat. She imagined the rest of her life, always feeling this way. Always living with him. She leaned on the sink, afraid she might throw up. Her eyes fixed on the broken plate that still sat there, and finally said the words she had been too afraid of before.
“I’m not going to marry you.” She said into the sink.
“What?” He asked, standing up to walk into the kitchen.
“I’m not going to marry you.” She repeated, turning around to face him. “I can’t believe you would hurt me like this.” That was a lie; he had hurt her like this before, just never in this way.
Telling it all to Silena and Beck … she finally saw her life for what it was. Pathetic and in ruins, any happiness she ever felt a fragile thing that he broke every time. He shattered her like glass and left her to clean herself up afterwards. She was just a girl, sixteen and alone. He asked her if she loved him, and when she said yes he smiled, but he didn’t say it back.
“Annie –” He tried to reach out to her, but she dodged him.
“Don’t touch me,” She said.
“You wanted to be a family. And we will be if you don’t throw that away over something so stupid --”
Annabeth cut him off by throwing her engagement ring at him. When that hit didn’t satisfy her, she picked up the vase of roses on the table, and raised it over her head, letting the flowers and water splash on the floor. When she moved to throw it, Luke flinched. She paused before putting the vase back on the counter. She took a deep breath, overwhelmed by her own anger. They stared at each other for a moment. He felt like a stranger to her.
“I want you to get your shit and move out.” She told him.
“You can’t just kick me out.” He protested.
“Oh yes I can, your name’s not on the lease.” She told him.
Luke bent down to pick up the thrown engagement ring. “No,” he said, “but is yours? Or is it your daddy’s name?” He asked. He pressed his body close to hers. This time, Annabeth didn’t move; she stood frozen, half with fear and half with pride. She felt his left hand wrap around the curls at the base of her neck; his right hand held her left hand. From a distance, their position may have seemed romantic, but Annabeth felt vulnerable in his grasp.
She tried to look him in the eyes, but she was met with a cruel look she could barely stand. She stood still, not wanting to make him angrier than he already was. The tug on her hair got tighter, more painful.
“You’re hurting me,” she whispered. He ignored her.
“You wouldn’t have anything without him or me, Annie.” He told her. Annabeth shook her head as much as she could with his grip still in her hair. That’s not true, she wanted to tell him, I know that’s not true, but she couldn’t find the words. “And he doesn’t love you, not really.” Annabeth started to cry again. “You’d be alone without me.” He said again. She sobbed, resisting the urge to lean against him for comfort as always had.
He dropped the hand from her neck. The ring had been clenched against his palm, leaving an indent in his skin. He took her left hand. “So let’s put this ring back on.”
She clenched her fist, resisting it. “No!” She said, stepping back from him before he could grab her again. Her sock met the puddle the flowers had made, and she slipped backwards, crushing the roses under her weight.
Luke leered over her. He looked like he might spit on her or kick her, but he just frowned and shook his head as he slipped her engagement ring into his pants pocket.
“You’ve never been less attractive,” he told her, before walking towards their bedroom
Annabeth sat motionless in the puddle of flowers, watching him move through their bedroom, gathering street clothes and dancewear. Annabeth couldn’t be sure of how long he’d been in there, but he emerged eventually with a suitcase and a dance bag.
“The wedding is off,” he said to her, as if it had been his idea, “until you can get your act together.”
When the door slammed behind him, Annabeth curled up on the floor and sobbed, gripping the roses in her fist. She crushed them until the petals stained her fingertips and the thorns cut her palms.
Notes:
Rubies: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dFvFZd4h3s
Emeralds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96K21No-e3c
Chapter 6: Diamonds
Summary:
Jewels, part two
Notes:
This chapter continues from the last chapter, so all content warnings still apply, with an additional warning for sports injuries.
I'm going to slow down chapter updates after this one, just a bit, so I can get ahead on writing the new chapters. Rest assured, there will still be updates. I've completed through chapter nine at this point, but that's all of the rewrites. Now I'm onto new material.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ten months ago
Silena and Beckendorf hadn’t been far away, reluctant to leave her alone, despite her insistence that they could go. Once Luke left, they came back, collected her, and brought them to their apartment for the night. Annabeth was grateful for them. She didn’t like interrupting their lives, but they were right. She hadn’t wanted to spend the night alone.
She woke up in the morning to the sound of a blender. Their ‘guest room’ was a futon in the living room near the kitchen. It had been a surprisingly comfortable bed, which Annabeth was grateful for.
“Sorry to wake you.” Beckendorf said, pouring the fruit mix into two glasses and offering one to her.
“Thanks.” Annabeth said, taking the glass. “What time is it?”
“Seven,” he said. “Class starts in a few hours, then dress rehearsal, but I’m sure Chiron will understand if you don’t want to –”
Annabeth shook her head. She would show her face today. She had no doubt Luke would. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “There’s no reason for me not to dance today or in the performance. I’m not sick, I’m not injured, I’m doing it.” Luke had tried to take so much from her, and she wouldn’t let him take dance.
Beckendorf could tell that there wasn’t any use arguing with her.
~
Class was held on the stage, to help them prepare for the dress rehearsal. Annabeth stood in the wings, taking deep breaths as she watched Luke at the barre. She picked a spot on the stage as far away from him as she could find, avoiding his looks, and trying to look as though the past night’s events had no effect on her.
Class helped her refocus. It was a methodical focus on technique and control, and that’s what she needed in that moment: control.
Dance had always been her escape. It was what she did and where she went when she felt like there was no one on her side. She couldn’t think about anyone else while she danced; her focus had to be on her body and its movement so she didn’t get injured. Every muscle, every bone had its place in her body’s alignment. She focused her attention on her second toe as she balanced, holding her abs over her leg, her shoulders down, arms up. She held her passé balance for four … five … six … seven … eight. She lowered the heal of her supporting leg back to the stage, and her working leg followed, unfolding from passé. Her mind was clear for a moment, her breathing even.
And then she glanced at Luke, despite her better judgement. He was looking at her, grinning. It didn’t matter, she tried to tell herself, that Luke was in the company with her, or that other people in the company had seen photos of her. What mattered was dance.
Have other people seen the photos, she thought suddenly. She hadn’t asked Luke, but if he showed them so casually to Beckendorf …
She tried to put the thought out of her mind, doing her best to convince herself that if someone else had seen them, they would have told her. But Luke did have a lot of friends in the company … She snapped herself out of the thought spiral, returning her attention to the ballet master’s next combination.
She wished Luke looked worse. She wished he looked like he had been crying all night, or like he had been betrayed, or like he felt guilty, but he didn’t look like that at all. He just looked like any of the other dancers. Annabeth tore her eyes away from him, refocusing on the combinations, trying to keep Luke as far from her mind as she could.
~
Annabeth took a deep breath as she stood in front of her dressing room mirror. Her costume glittered with crystals and rhinestones. Even her tights were white to match the tutu and bodice; her pointe shoes had been spray-painted to match. Carefully, she pinned a bejeweled hairpiece to her bun, the final bit of bling on her costume.
“Looking good,” Piper said. Piper was the “Diamonds” lead in the second cast, and her dressing room roommate. She hardly knew the woman, but she seemed friendly enough. Second cast rehearsed after the first, so Piper was still lounging in her normal dancewear.
“Thanks,” Annabeth said, trying to steady her breathing. She had run to her dressing room quickly after class to avoid as many people as she could, but there was no avoiding Piper.
Piper had spotted that something was wrong from when they had first gotten into the dressing room. “Are you okay?” She asked Annabeth.
Annabeth just shook her head as she peeled off her warmups and took down her hair. She’d shared enough secrets about her life last night. She didn’t care to share anymore of them with Piper.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Piper asked.
If she tried to talk about it, she worried she would cry, and she didn’t have time for that. She just wanted to relax, enjoy a small lunch, and go out and run the ballet. So, instead of talking, Annabeth stared at her coldly. Piper seemed to lean back at the harshness of her gaze, reading the implied we’re aren’t friends. I don’t know you.
“No,” Annabeth said finally.
“Okay,” Piper said. “But I’m here if you need me.”
Annabeth nodded.
~
Before every show, Annabeth had a recurring nightmare. They were always the same: the orchestra played her cue, she ran out on stage, slipped, and fell on her face. She would get up, and try to continue, but she couldn’t remember the choreography, or she’d do the choreography to the wrong dance. Last night, Annabeth had dreamt that she went out on stage, met the corps and Percy, all in their gilded white costumes, only she was in her red costume from Don Quixote , and she could only remember the steps to Kitri’s act one variation.
She looked down at her costume. It was definitely white. She did a few steps, confirming for herself that she did remember them.
“Emeralds” was first. She’d learned “Emeralds” dozens of times, but she’d never performed it outside of corps roles. It was meant to evoke French romanticism, but, to her, it always felt like old Hollywood and art deco, a modern and almost-fictional kind of glamor that didn’t exist anymore. Beckendorf could dance it in his sleep, she thought. He was, at this point, synonymous with City Ballet’s “Emeralds.” He was even on the posters. He was as dazzling and glamorous as the music. It was no wonder to her that he and Silena had fallen together so easily. Glamorous, gorgeous, and romantic. Nothing like her and Luke, no matter what they’d always tried to signal to the world.
Then there was “Rubies.” “Rubies” was supposed to be a tribute to American Jazz, but Stravinsky’s music always unsettled something in her chest. The low piano notes, dum dum dum, always made her anxious. The movements were staccato, long swinging legs, flexed feet, bent knees, and hip thrusts. Luke was dancing the pas de deux with some twenty-year-old girl she didn’t know. This dance always suited him. She tore her eyes away from the stage and returned to a dark corner of the wing to stay warm.
Compulsively, she touched her chest, where she usually pinned her engagement ring to the inside of her costume. She was checking to make sure it was still there.
Of course it wasn’t. She didn’t have a ring to pin.
The curtain fell at the end of "Rubies," and Annabeth tried to hide herself in the shadows as much as she could as Luke left the stage, but he found her.
“Good luck.” He said smiling. To anyone else, it seemed sweet; to her, it felt deeply insidious. The words chilled in her chest, and a shiver snaked down her spine.
She tried to smile back, but she felt her stomach churn looking at him, so she just looked away towards the stage as the corps took their place.
He barely moved away from her, taking a spot in the wings where he could see out too. He’s going to watch, Annabeth realized, the hair on her arm standing on edge. That’s okay, she tried to tell herself, wrapping her arms around her body, hunching away from his presence. He’s just a company member. He wants to watch. He’s allowed to.
As the corps finished their opening, she tried to rediscover her center of focus, but her anxiety met her ADHD in a violent collision. But when her music started, her feet knew what to do before her brain did. She dropped her arms, stood up straight, and went to the stage.
Percy entered the stage from downstage left, and she entered from upstage right. They moved slowly to meet each other in the middle. She started to feel it then, than mental clarity that came with dancing on a stage. There was no mirror to grab your attention, and the audience was shrouded. The only thing you could hear was the breathing of your partner, and the sound of your shoes on the ground. You forget everything else then, fear of your future, the mess your life has been left in. They are all far away thoughts. All you know now is where and how and when you need to move.
The dance was slow and elegant. You’ve always loved dances like this one. You’ve always felt like you were born for adagio and classical pieces. In another life, you might be at the Royal Ballet in London, or just down the street at ABT. “ Diamonds” was all about Imperial Russia, with a score by Tchaikovsky. For you, “Diamonds” was the pinnacle of the show. Pure ballet. It was slow, but with a grandness to it. The lines of your body needed to be long, held steady, but energetic all the same. You hold your line, every muscle from your back to the tips of your finger pulling at you do. You are all long lines and graceful tempos. You would never dance something like Tarantella . You have long feet and legs that didn’t move fast, but did move beautifully.
In this moment on stage, you find peace as your body moved through the music. Percy made it easy. He was a natural partner. Whatever you need, he knows it instinctively.
As they started, Annabeth heard Luke’s whispers wander over from the wings. She could tell that her balance was off, her legs weak from the lack of sleep. But then, there Percy was. He was always in the right place, supporting her, matching her. She and Becknedorf worked well together in no small part because they’d worked together for so long. But with Percy? It felt natural. Piper had confirmed once that it wasn’t just her. He’s just that good, she told her.
They looked at each other. The dance was freckled with these kinds of long, loving looks. They weren’t lusty, like the Black Swan, or melancholy, like the White Swan. They were regal -- loving but in that fairy tale way, that kind of love kids dreamed about. Percy’s eyes were startlingly green. They seemed almost unnatural, and under the stage lights they sparkled. She’d seen him in “Emeralds” a fair few times and knew that costume did more for his eyes than these white ones. But even the all-white look couldn’t dull those eyes.
She took his hand and dropped down into a penche , a standing split, one leg going straight up in the air as her body dropped forward, supported by him. But her gaze drifted past Percy, into the wings, where Luke was still watching. She saw him whisper something to one of the young corps girls, who put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Annabeth’s heart rate rose as she lifted out of the penche , turning around to move on with the dance.
On the other side of the stage, she saw the Stoll brothers, good character dancers, but also good friends of Luke. They were looking at something on a phone, smiling and not paying attention to the dance. They’re looking at the photos, her anxiety told her. They’ve seen them. Of course they have. They’re looking at them right now. How many people do you think have seen them?
She turned back to Percy; her movements less precise as she began to spiral. He could tell something was wrong, and tried to help her through, holding onto her tighter when he could to help her stay steady. He’s probably seen them, she thought. He knows. They all know.
She paused, stopped dancing completely. Her mind felt blank and her muscles felt like stones. She wasn’t moving. She couldn’t move.
Percy looked at her again with that look of love.
There was more acting involved in ballet than most people assumed, and Percy was a great actor.
He muttered the next step to her, glancing with his eyes to where she needed to step.
She found her place in the music again. It felt like he was pulling her along, holding her upright so she didn’t collapse or run right off the stage.
She’d gotten to know him over rehearsals. He had a quick wit, but he wasn’t afraid to be the butt of the jokes. He brought extra snacks for her, just in case. He remembered to ask about her day. The love was maybe not real, but he was. He was there for her. She could trust him.
Their dance continued. She ran from him, moving her arms in a motion that reminded her of drawing a bow and arrow, one arm extended far out in front of her, the other pulled back, bent at the elbow, finger tips grazing her ear.
The music went on, and so did she. The wings disappeared from view, and so did the empty seats. You are alone in the world; Percy is there to hold you up. And as helpful as his hand is, you didn’t need him. You know your body, and it knows the music. It responds. You might as well be alone, dancing at the end of the world, for you and only you. You aren’t bound to anyone, committed to anyone. You are free.
Percy caught her as she fell back into his arms, her legs crossed, her hands up over his head. A proper trust fall. And she trusted him. He was reliable. He held her in space until it was time to tilt her back up again.
The music moved towards its end. She stood on one leg, her other bent, her toes against her knee in passé as he promenaded her in a circle, holding her hand to spin her slowly as she held her balance. When it was over, they promenaded again, now in attitude back, her back leg at ninety degrees, but bent at the knee. He whispered through closed teeth “ are you good? ” and waited for “ yes” before he adjusted to hold her for the penché.
The dance ended slowly with some walks and some moments to breathe. She did a pirouette before coming to stillness. Percy knelt next to her and took her hand. She felt his lips graze her knuckles as they held the pose through the last notes of Tchaikovsky’s music.
They escaped to the wings, but the world returned to her. As the pas de quatrain began, Annabeth headed around the stage for her entrance on the other side.
“Impressive work, Percy,” she heard Luke say.
“Uh, thanks?” Percy said. Annabeth turned around and met his eyes. Run, she tried to say, don’t let him …
She wanted to scream a warning to him, but she didn’t know what to say. Percy seemed to notice the panic in her glance, and he almost seemed to reach for her. He only managed to point Luke in her direction. He turned. His eyes were almost gold in the dim backstage light, reflecting the red of his costume, as they bore into her chest. She was always emotional after a dance, but this threatened to tip the balance.
Luke waved her off. A flick of the wrist, as if he were swatting a fly, and she was gone, tearing off the stage to round the back side to take her place in the wings of the opposite side.
When she came on for her solo, she erupted from the wings, one arabesque after another. She spun her way off stage, pausing just before taking her exit back into the wings.
Once she was behind the black curtain, she felt arms around her. Luke pulled her in close. “You look beautiful,” he told her.
She opened her eyes, turning her head, looking for anyone to notice her. Most people had turned their gaze away at the public display of affection.
She tried to find that feeling she had on stage, but Luke’s arms had stolen it from her.
“I was thinking. Last night was dumb. Why don’t I come home tonight?” He whispered into her hair.
“Annabeth,” Percy said.
It was their cue. Percy ran on first for the coda. Jump after jump. He landed them like a star.
Luke grabbed her arm. “Unless you’d like to go home with someone else,” he hissed in her ear. He stood behind her, hand still on her upper arm, fingers digging into her skin. He only let her go at her cue.
She bolted out from behind the curtain with little regard for the music. Her mind wasn’t in it. She felt far away from her body. Her muscles knew what to do, but she didn’t know where her body was once it was up in the air. She had lost count of the music. She jumped once, hoping to find that feeling of peace again. But she couldn’t.
Luke was watching her. He’d come home tonight, she realized. She wouldn’t be able to say no. He had her.
They’d all had her, she realized. They’d all seen her. Luke would show her to everyone. He didn’t love her. He didn’t care about her.
He wanted to hold onto her.
She jumped again.
There was no air.
The music seemed to stop around her, replaced with a ringing in her ears. Her left foot had landed the jump. But then she felt her palms, then her knees hit the stage. She’d fallen. She almost laughed.
She tilted her head up, looking towards the wings. There were wide eyed looks on their faces. She watched Percy, his green eyes wide and panicked, turn his head towards Luke. Luke stood still. He turned away from her. He waved his hand again, shaking her off, and heading into the darkness of the wings. Percy barely acknowledged this snub before he was at her side.
The ringing seemed to stop when she felt his hand on her shoulder, gentle and caring.
“Don’t move,” he told her. “What hurts?”
It was funny. Nothing seemed to hurt. She’d suffered a stress fracture before and it had screamed in pain the moment she sustained it. She had only been a corps member, fresh on a new contact, dancing just after Nutcracker. She’d felt the crack, felt the air get sucked out of the room, knew tears were welling in her eyes, and she watched her career flash before her.
But here, nearly face down on the stage, she felt nothing. She offered Percy her hand, and he took it. She tried to use it to pull herself up, but when she put weight on her left foot …
“Agh!” She yelled, the sound echoing around a theater not currently equipped for vocal performances. Percy wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her up. The pain seemed to shoot its way up through her body. She wouldn’t dance tomorrow, she realized. She wouldn’t dance for a long time.
The tears filled her eyes faster than she could realize. It wasn’t just physical pain, and she knew it. A sob broke free, and then another one. Percy held her tighter, whispering that it was going to be okay, and that they’d get her patched up.
“Thank you,” she muttered to him.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “Do you want to sit?”
She shook her head. “Not here,” she said.
Percy nodded. “It’s just your foot?” He asked.
When she nodded, he swept his arms up under her legs and carried her off stage, beyond the wings, and down into the light of the hallway. He sat her in a chair, where, finally, Chiron rolled towards them, medical team in tow.
~
She sat in the emergency room, her injury now making itself known. Another stress fracture. The same one from nine years ago. She stared at her left foot in contempt. The X-ray was hardly the most naked she’d felt that day. Her heart rate rose as she remembered, more clearly now, the sound of her foot meeting the stage. The terrible crack. It had sounded so far away, as if someone had snapped a twig in the back row. But it belonged to her. She felt alone, under a microscope, and completely naked. She was trapped under the stage lights, not able to move. And then Percy was there. Luke would shout about this when they got home.
But he won’t, a voice reminded her. He won’t be coming home.
She cried all over again. It still hurt, that heartbreak. She loved him, and he couldn’t even be bothered to help her up when she fell.
“Don’t worry,” the doctor said -- he was blonde, young, far too young, she thought. At least, she noticed, he was a bit southern. He sounded like home. “We’ll get you fixed up. A few weeks in a boot, and you’ll be right as rain.”
She nodded. She looked at her phone. Luke hadn’t sent her so much as a “get well soon.” No one had.
~
Annabeth wanted to run through the halls, avoiding the eyes of anyone in the company, but her crutches slowed her down. Silena had collected her from the hospital late the night before and brought her back to their apartment, still not willing to leave her on her own.
Whatever peace she’d found on stage the day before abandoned her here. The familiar hallways felt crowded with people staring at her. Some looked at her with pity, others seemed totally smug.
They hate you, she thought. They’ve seen you. She felt her heart rate go up, making it hard for her to breathe calmly. Her hands got sweaty as they clung to the rungs of her crutches. You’re alone. She looked around for Luke instinctively, part of her praying he wasn’t there, another part hoping he was. She wanted to run to him, apologize, and offer to find some resolution to their fight.
But she still felt his hand around her arm, pressing his fingers into her skin, holding her backstage until the moments she needed to enter. He’d thrown her off. He’d been trying to do it the entire rehearsal. She looked down at her booted foot with contempt. He got what he wanted.
She kept moving, anxiety peaking with every man she passed. Have they seen them? Do they know? Annabet felt alone and cold, as if she were completely naked on stage for everyone to watch. They have watched, she thought. You might as well be naked right now.
Her vision started to blur. She wasn’t sure if she was about to start crying or if she was going to collapse. She tried to take a steady breath, but her chin was shaking too much, and her pain became audible.
She knew before entering Chiron’s office that she wasn’t going to get through the conversation without crying. If he was merciful, she’d still have a job at the end of it.
Finally, she made it to the end of the hallway.
When she walked into Chiron’s office, he asked her to sit, looking at her with a removed sympathetic look.
“What did the doctor’s say?” He asked her.
Annabeth began to cry despite her best efforts not to. She had hoped she’d make it longer than four seconds.
She’d tried to only give a report of her injury, the expected few months of recovery, the precise nature of the fracture. But soon, the story of her and Luke came spilling out of her. Chiron had been like a father to her since she was at SAB. He watched her carefully, he coached her, supported her. If there was anyone at City Ballet Annabeth trusted, it was him. Chiron listened silently, his eyes going wide with shock at some of the details, the things Luke had shown, what he’d said. She finally mustered up all the courage she had and told him: “We’ve been together since I was an apprentice.”
He sat up straighter in his chair. “Well, this is all incredibly unacceptable,” he said. She nodded.
“I understand. It was incredibly inappropriate for me to --”
He held up a hand to stop her, but he didn’t offer words of his own. Annabeth could tell that he didn’t know what else to say to her.
She had spent all morning trying to convince herself that Luke wouldn’t be a distraction, that dancers date all the time and break up. They keep going, why couldn’t she? But she knew it was different. He had a hold on her that he wouldn’t let go of so easily.
Chiron finally said, “I don’t believe the inappropriate actions here are your own.”
She took a deep breath and admitted: “I don’t think I can keep dancing here as long as he’s here.” She started to cry again. The idea of losing City Ballet was a nightmare. Losing it because of Luke, though, was never something she expected. But it wasn’t a nightmare at this point, it was a reality she was living.
“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to lose you, especially considering the circumstances,” Chiron said. “Let me work on keeping you here.” He said. She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, though. “Why don’t you take some time off?” Chiron suggested. “Take the months you need to heal, and then, however much time you need. Get out of the city for a little while, even. Travel,” he said.
Annabeth looked at him, her heart racing. Every time she’d been injured, it felt like a race back into class and onto stage. She’d never just taken time off that she didn’t need before.
“If you think that would help,” Ciron added. “I’ve watched your career since you joined the school at fourteen. I want to see you dance here, but I also want to see you heal.”
She thought for a moment before nodding. “I think a break would help.” She admitted. “I hate to do that though.”
“Take your time,” Chiron said. “The ballet will be here when you come back.”
“Will Luke?” She asked.
“Not if I can help it.” Chiron said. Annabeth let out a deep breath and almost smiled.
“I don’t want this to be huge news in the company, though. I’m sure there will be rumors but –”
“We will do what we can,” Chiron promised her. “We’ll start an internal investigation. We won’t do anything without your consent. Do you have someone to stay with?” He asked. Annabeth nodded, hoping Silena and Beckendorf didn’t mind if she crashed at their place for another few nights. “Great,” he said. “Keep me posted on your situation.”
Annabeth nodded, and headed out of the office.
When she stepped into the hall, she was met by Percy. He had stepped out of rehearsal, it looked like. His face and shirt were sweaty, likely from running “Diamonds” with Piper all afternoon. “Hey,” he said, walking up to her, “are you okay?”
They’d been in the company together for years, but they so rarely danced together. She still didn’t know much about him except that he was kind and funny (and he had eyes so green it should be illegal.) And still, here he was, waiting outside the office, sweaty tank top and ballet shoes still on, waiting to check on her.
Luke, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll be okay,” she told him, hoping that was true. “I’m so sorry.” She added.
“Don’t worry about it. Do you need anything?” He asked. He meant it when he asked, she could tell.
She looked at him, handsome as he was, and tried to remember him from when she was sixteen. He would have been a year below her at the school, probably long and skinny like all the boys there. She wanted to remember him, to imagine what her life might have been like if at sixteen he’d been the one to take her to dinner, maybe dollar slices of pizza or McDonalds, not the twenty-three year old who offered her wine after dinner.
She shook her head. “Thank you. Merde to you and Piper. I’m sure you two will do great.”
“Good luck with your recovery. I’m sure you’ll be back before you know it.” She smiled sadly, not knowing when this indefinite break would actually end. “And really, please let me know if you need anything,” Percy said.
Annabeth nodded and headed back to her dressing room to pack her things.
~
Present Day
“So, I left, stayed with Beckendorf and Silena for a few days while Luke moved out. A month or so later, I went down to Virginia until December,” she finished telling Percy. “I was out of the boot by June, dancing fully again by July. I just … knew I wasn’t ready to come back here yet. It was so much more than my foot …” she trailed off, but Percy followed her meaning. When his mother first brought Paul home, well … It had been years since Gabe’s last bruise finally faded, but Percy still found himself flinching every time he heard Paul’s voice around the corner.
They were sitting on her couch facing each other. She had tucked her knees up to her chest, closing herself off as she told the story. She’d asked Percy to come to her apartment during the phone call, sending him an Uber. When she opened the door for him, she nearly collapsed against his chest, pulling him in for a hug. Percy hugged her back, holding her tightly. He felt grateful that she still trusted him enough to be close to him.
As she told him her story, he wanted to pull her in close, but she kept to one side of the couch, hardly looking at him as she recalled some of the more painful details.
Percy hadn’t felt this angry in a long time. He had known men like Luke before, he had lived with one for too long, and he didn’t like the idea of anyone having to put up with that, and certainly not for a decade. Certainly not still.
“Fuck him for doing that to you.” Percy said finally. He tried to conceal his rage; he knew it wouldn’t necessarily be the most helpful thing to add to the conversation.
Annabeth took a deep breath. “He’s the worst, and I can’t believe how much time I wasted with him.”
Percy moved closer to her, just close enough the rest his hand on hers for comfort.
“Did you ever end up pressing charges or anything?” He asked.
Annabeth shook her head. “Chiron started the internal investigation, and then I started getting messages from company members. A lot of them were polite, but … snooping. They wanted to know what was true, and I just felt like I was being exposed all over again.” She took a deep breath. “Luke seemed to confirm whatever rumor mill had started when he resigned. He did me the favor of not sticking around too long. He knew he was guilty. He knew what he did.”
She bit her lip and pushed her hair back out of her face.
“I didn’t see the point of going to court after that. I got what I wanted when he left. I had met with a lawyer when the investigation started and it was … awful. It was just hours of traumatizing questions of whether or not we had evidence or foundation. We didn’t. There was hardly evidence of the relationship before I was twenty. He’d never hit me. He was just … shitty. And talking to lawyers wasn't helping me get better. There was one moment where I realized that if I had to sit on the stand, I’d be more likely to throw up or have a panic attack, rather than offering any evidence to help my case.
“So eventually, I sat down and thought about what I actually wanted. And I wanted to heal, which wouldn’t happen as long as this process was ongoing. I wanted him out of City Ballet, which Chiron was already working on, and I wanted him out of my life, and to get rid of the photos. So, we settled between the two of us. He’d leave the ballet and move to Portland to work for his dad, which he did, and he even let me delete the photos of his phone myself.” She let out a grim laugh. “Should have figured he had them somewhere else.”
Percy had been trying to figure out Luke’s play in sharing them like that. When he looked at her now, it felt so obvious. Just to hurt her, make her small and curled in on herself. He looked around her big apartment. For all the furniture, there were so few photos of friends or family. He thought of her in rehearsal, always making small talk, but never really with anyone. She must have been so lonely, he realized. How far had Luke pushed her away from other people?
She took a deep breath and continued. “But, anyway, he left, and I hadn’t heard from him until today.”
“Do you think you’ll go forward with something now?” Percy asked. “Now that you’ve got this email?”
Annabeth shook her head. “Probably not. I mean, maybe? I don’t know. I’ll probably call him at some point and ask about today, but I still don’t think I’m ready for any legal process.”
“Don’t you want him to face consequences?” Percy asked, trying not to put pressure on the situation.
Percy thought back to Gabe, and how many times he wished that his mom would divorce him, or that a school counselor would notice that Percy was bruised. That someone would do something to get him out of his and his mom’s lives. None of that ever happened. The happiest day of Percy’s life was when they’d found Gabe in the Hudson. He’d jumped from the George Washington Bridge, the police had concluded. His mom had to identify the body. She wouldn’t let Percy see. Percy always figured that his body must have been even more bloated and smelly after a few days in the river. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want something similar for Luke, instead of him just walking away to a different life.
“I wanted to hurt him,” she admitted. “When I held up that vase, I wanted to hurt him, to make him bleed, to make him vulnerable. But more than that, I wanted to keep my career, to keep my life.”
“Do you think your career would be ruined by exposing him? You’ve already got Chiron on your side.”
“Yes,” She told him. There was a steady self-assuredness in her eyes. “I do. Maybe I’d still have a job, but I don’t think I could stand to be in a room full of people who know what happened to me. I’d hardly be able to deal with their pity, let alone their doubts. You know what people say about me. What would they say then?”
“Who cares what people say?” Percy said.
She frowned and furrowed her brows, angry. “I do. And so do you.”
“Do I?” Percy asked, a touch of his own anger coming through. He’d let her get angry, but he wasn’t going to let her just speak for him.
“Of course you do,” there was a slight southern lilt to her vowels he’d never heard her use on him before. “A few ballet masters ignore you and some company members whisper you’ll never be anything, and you just go on believing them.” Percy sat back, shocked by the harshness of her words, but she didn’t let up. The anger in his face relaxed, and his mouth hung open as she stung him with words.
“You are one of the best, most adaptable dancers in the room every time, but you let people shake your confidence over nothing. If you really didn’t care what people think, you’d’ve been a principal two years ago. So don’t you judge me, Percy Jackson.”
She’d certainly made her point, Percy thought, feeling worse about himself than he had … well, since Luke this afternoon. She’d proven her point well enough. He did certainly care about what people had to say, and his confidence was easily rocked.
Annabeth’s face betrayed her. He saw the shame and fear bleed through that prideful mask. He could almost hear the scolding she was giving herself.
“You’re right,” he said. She looked at him, wide eyed and confused, like she expected him to say anything else. She was postured for a fight, bracing herself for cutting words. His kindness was more surprising than violence. “I do care too much, and it holds me back. What people say matters. Even if it’s not true. And I know what they say about you Annabeth,” he watched her muscles tense again, bracing herself for the impact of a scathing insult. “And it’s not true either. And we can’t keep letting them hold us back like this. We’re too talented for it.”
Her shoulders dropped. She nodded, tears welling again. Percy opened his arms to silently ask permission to hug her, and she nodded. He leaned forward, holding onto her as she cried into his shoulder.
“We’re gonna dance Sleeping Beauty,” Percy said into her hair, “and we’re gonna shut them all up.”
She pulled away, nodding. Percy reached for another tissue. He’d managed to hold back his own tears, but it was hard. “Water?” He suggested, standing up and heading to the kitchen, taking a moment for himself.
When he came back, she drank the glass quickly, before tucking her feet up under her and staring at the turned-off TV.
There was a long pause where neither of them quite knew what to say. Finally she started speaking.
“You know, the day after I got injured, Jewels opened,” she said. “I went and sat all the way in the back. Chiron had pulled Luke from ‘Rubies,’ but Jason was dancing in his place. From all the way in the back, he looked like him. But that didn’t bother me. I felt nothing. The thought of him being on that stage didn’t make me angry, and the thought of him never dancing on it again didn’t make me happy. But then “Diamonds” started. And I saw you, up on stage with Piper, and I just started to cry. Because I didn’t know if I’d ever be on that stage again.
“I left New York a few days later, and I spent months with therapists, and old dance teachers, my journal, and Friends reruns, just trying to figure out what to do, and …” She trailed off and stared at her hands as she took a deep breath. Finally, she looked back at Percy. “I’m just trying to do what’ll make me happy, and, right now…”
Percy didn’t say anything. She started to cry again.
“We were engaged. I told him I wanted to marry him! We were a month away from the wedding. I had a dress! Have a dress; it’s still in my closet.” She looked over towards her room, her gaze distant.
“I never even told my dad what happened. What? Am I supposed to sit in court and say, ‘Sorry Dad, you trusted me to go off to New York and I got taken advantage of for a decade in the apartment you pay for? Now watch some lawyer hold up nude photos of me?” She laughed and sobbed at the same time before continuing. “No. I can’t do that.” She took a deep breath and took a sip of water before continuing.
“Percy, I’m so embarrassed. I’ve spent the last few months trying to understand that I was taken advantage of, and harmed, and that it all wasn’t my fault, but … I lived with him for five years. I believed him when he told me he loved me. And not just when I was sixteen. I believed him when I was twenty-five. For nine years, I thought he loved me. And I’ve never been so wrong about something, and I am … so embarrassed. I have a wedding dress in my closet!” Percy just rested a comforting hand on her leg as she cried.
She caught her breath after a moment. “I don’t want people in the company to know what happened. I already feel so exposed. I want to just hold on to what little privacy I have left at this point. I don’t want people to know the photos exist, because they’ll just go looking for them. I just … I can’t give up what I have right now.” She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
Percy nodded. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do to Luke, or what he felt he deserved, he reminded himself. He was at Annabeth’s apartment to comfort her, not to try and tell her what to do.
There was another long pause. He refilled her glass of water as she took some deep breaths, her sobs subsiding.
“You know, I danced the Sugar Plum Fairy when I was seventeen,” She said. Percy nodded, he had heard that story before, but he didn’t know why she was telling it. She’d danced three Sugar Plums that year, a pretty remarkable number for a new corps member, especially only at seventeen.
“My debut wasn’t scheduled. I was in the morning class before the matinee. I was going on that night as a snowflake and flower. Right before class started, Chiron came up to me and told me that whoever was dancing it that night was out. I don’t even remember who I replaced, but he told me that I was going to do it. Lee Fletcher was my Cavalier, but we’d never danced together before. We had three hours to rehearse with each other, before I was thrown onto stage.”
Percy knew Lee, of course, he was one of the oldest dancers in the company. He had retired two years ago, but he still came back for the Nutcracker to play Drosselmeyer. He was possibly one of the kindest people Percy had met at City Ballet besides Beckendorf.
“So, Lee and I go into a studio and just start running the dance over and over with a ballet master. The whole time, I was spiraling. I thought I had a week before my debut show, but things changed so fast. I was dancing that night, with a man I’d never partnered with before.
“Then I got into a costume and waited for act two to start. While I was waiting, I remember him coming up to me and saying ‘Don’t worry. If you forget the steps, just make it up. If you forget the steps to the pas de deux , just make it up, and I’ll follow your lead.’ And I could tell that he was kind of joking to lighten the mood, but also very serious, and that was exactly what I needed to hear. But, anyway, I went out for the solo, it went great. We did the pas later, and I felt like I was on top of the world. I debuted Sugar Plum at seventeen,” she smiled.
“And then I went backstage, and one of the ballet masters just said, ‘great job Annabeth. Go bring that costume back to the shop, we need you as a party guest, a snowflake, and a flower tonight.’ And that was it. I had my moment, and it was over as quickly as it had been given to me.”
The ballet world had a fun way of throwing reality checks at dancers soon after a debut. When Percy had been thrown on for the lead in Opus 19, he’d gotten off stage to faint praise before he had to run to change into his costume for his corps role in the next ballet. There was never any time to luxuriate in success; you were always needed somewhere else.
“And then, this November, I agreed to do some guesting performances at my youth company. I would be their Sugar Plum for their Nutcracker performances for the first two weeks of December, and then I would move back to New York right before Christmas. I wasn’t going to do Nutcracker here this year. But Chiron called me and asked if I was coming back. I told him I’d be back in the city on December 20th, and that I was planning on doing the Winter and Spring season shows. And he said ‘December 20th? Can I put you in for shows after then?’
“And I just said ‘yes, of course.’ I didn’t realize until I said that just how much I wanted to be back. He put me in for three shows, all with Beckendorf. The first one was December 23rd, and I was standing in the wings, waiting to go on. I felt so nervous and so calm at the same time. Then Lee came up behind me, and he was all dressed up as Drosselmeyer, and he said ‘remember, if you forget the steps, just make them up.’”
Her voice caught, and he thought she might start crying again, but she just took a deep breath, and she spoke through it. “Then he hugged me and told me that he was glad I was back.”
She wiped some stray tears from her eyes, but finally, she started to smile.
“I thought no one remembered that day. It had all happened so quickly. No one was in the audience to support me. I didn’t even have time to call my friends or family to let them know it was happening, and it was over so fast. But for him to come up to me ten years later and show me that he remembered that day, and that he knew how important it was to me it just … it meant the world to me. And I knew that this was where I wanted to be and dance for the rest of my career.
“And I just want Sleeping Beauty to be perfect, because I want people to know that I am back, I’m not going anywhere, and that I’ve worked hard, and I’m good , and I’m not giving that up.” She paused and took his hand. “And I know you understand that.” Percy nodded.
He did understand. The two of them had come from incredibly different trainings and upbringings, but somehow, they had both landed in similar situations. They were leading a ballet together, and half the company thought she wasn’t qualified to do it, and the other half thought he wasn’t qualified. But they were all wrong, and they would show them.
She squeezed his hand but kept holding on. “Today, when I was in costume and on stage again, I felt so strong. I was balanced on my toes, and I felt like nothing in the world could knock me over. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way.” She smiled faintly, looking up at Percy. “I just want to keep feeling that way.”
Percy nodded and smiled. “It’s your decision, and I won’t try and push you in any other direction,” he promised. “I am always in your corner, Annabeth.”
“And I’m in yours.”
Percy smiled. Then, he took a deep breath of his own. “I do kind of understand what you’re going through.”
He ended up telling her most of the details he remembered about Gabe. Their ‘guys secret’ where Percy gave him poker money or else Gabe would punch his lights out. Sometimes he took the money and hit him anyway. His yelling, his smell, and the day Percy realized he hadn’t been the only one getting hit by Gabe. Annabeth kept holding his hand as he talked through the story, offering him comforting squeezes when it became too much.
“I thought I was protecting my mom by taking his hits. Thought I was standing in the way.” He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “He was just doing the same thing to her when I wasn’t around. She thought she was protecting me.”
He remembered the day the truth had come out more clearly than he remembered choreography to ballets he’d danced hundreds of times. There was a fire in his mother’s eyes he’d never seen. She’d sent him to his room, and then they started shouting. Back and forth for hours, until the front door slammed. He waited under the covers for his mom to walk in. He knew she’d never walk out on him and leave him alone with Gabe. But no one came in.
It wasn’t until four in the morning that he heard his door open, felt his mother’s hand on his face, telling him “Everything is okay. We’ll be free of him one day. Don’t worry Percy. We’ll be free soon.”
“A few days later, he turned up dead in the river, and it seemed like all of our problems were over.” He said. “Suicide. He must’ve thought my mom was gonna have him arrested.”
He told her that he remembered his mom calling the police when he didn’t come home that first night after the fight. The police told her to wait twenty-four hours, so she did. The police thought he’d just left her, and never looked into it. They didn’t do anything until his body appeared.
He didn’t tell her that when his mom spied police through the peep-hole she whispered to him “Go to your room, and whatever they say, look sad. You miss your step-father very much.” He did. From the other side of the door, he heard his mother wail, and the officer comforted her. He didn’t tell her that the old woman next door, who had so often offered ice for his black eyes, came by at all the noise. He didn’t tell her that this old Nonna had looked New York's “finest” in the eyes and said “They loved each other so much, I can’t believe this. He was always so good to her. And their son! God help them!” Before crying herself as she said prayers in Latin. He didn’t tell her that he’d pinched himself until he cried, and then stepped out. “Mom, what happened?”
He’d never asked his mom what happened in those hours he was left alone.
He did tell her: “It was the best day of my life.”
Now it was Annabeth’s turn to offer him a hug. When they pulled away, she kept his hands in hers.
“My life’s been so much better since he left it,” Annabeth said. “But he still …” she trailed off, but Percy followed her.
“He’s still there, in your head. It feels like he still controls you sometimes?” He offered.
She nodded. “Does that ever go away?”
“It gets smaller.”
Percy rubbed his thumb over hers. Her skin was soft, but her hands were shaking from all the crying. They sat in silence, just breathing together, letting it get smaller together.
“Could I take you up on your offer? To stay the night? Just in case he tries to come around?” She asked. “If not, I can call Silena, I’m sure –”
“Annabeth,” Percy said, squeezing her hands, “of course I’ll stay.”
She let out a deep breath and smiled. “Thanks. You can take the bed,” She said. She dropped his hands. She reached behind her head and pulled her curls into a ponytail. Percy suspected she just needed something to do with her hands as she tried to change the mood.
“Absolutely not. I’ll be fine on the couch. I’m not taking your bed away from you.”
“No, seriously, I’ll be fine. Besides, this is a pull-out couch,” she said, patting the couch cushions.
“That might be worse.” He said.
“You are my guest and an absolute saint for listening to me for hours and hours.” She poked him in the chest. “You are taking it.”
Percy laid down on the couch. “Nope, I’m just fine right here.”
Annabeth groaned. “You know what? It’s a king-sized bed, why don’t we each just pick a side?” Her face was a little red, but that might have just been from crying.
Percy nodded, trying to seem casual. They had done plenty of intimate things on stage, but that was their job. Sharing a bed platonically felt like a new level of intimacy unmatched by any ballet moves or stage kisses. “Alright, but you’re picking which side first.”
“Fine,” she agreed. “If you need something to change into, I might have something.” She offered.
Percy looked down at his sweatpants and tee shirt. Usually, he just slept in his boxers, but that wouldn’t do for tonight. “I’ll be alright in this.” He promised. It was preferable to borrowing what he assumed were Luke’s discarded clothes.
They took turns in the bathroom, and Annabeth found him an extra toothbrush to use, which he was grateful for. He texted his mom, briefly explaining the situation to her. Sally had texted back: “Thank you for staying with her, I’m sure she appreciates it. Be safe.”
“It’s not like that.” He texted back. She just sent back the shrug emoji and a blue heart.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, Annabeth was already in her pajamas – just a plain black tee shirt and flannel pants. She had gotten under the covers on the side near the window.
Percy almost smiled getting into bed with her, but he held back, not wanting to make anything weird. It was weird enough being in Annabeth’s bedroom at all. Most of her furniture was white, and her shelves and dressers were decorated in photos of her dancing, trophies, and a few old pairs of pointe shoes that she had written the date on and the name of a show. Before she turned the light off, Percy noticed a pair hanging by their ribbons over the nightstand on his side. They were particularly faded with age, and the ribbons were fraying. “ The Nutcracker, 12/6/2015” they said. Percy smiled.
“Thanks again for staying.” Annabeth said, already rolled over away from him.
“Of course.”
She reached over to the lamp on her nightstand and clicked it off, leaving them alone in the dark.
Notes:
Annabeth: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Percy: Is anyone gonna help this woman?
NYCB: Best I can do is Sleeping Beauty.Diamonds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqYjutRpv6o&t=1468s pas begins at 7:35
Kitri variation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQ73d68HQCs
Sugar Plum Fairy variation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQRaaYVc3Hs
Nutcracker Pas de deux: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BslfO16GcZM
Chapter Text
Percy woke up to the soft early February sun on his face as it poured in through Annabeth’s large bedroom window. He cracked his eyes open, squinting at the light, and saw that she had already gotten up. He rolled over to check his phone – 8:30 a.m.
They both had today and the next day off as other casts ran their dress rehearsals. Usually he spent his days off wandering the city, catching up on TV, or bothering Grover to play video games with him when his 9-to-5 ended. But those days off didn’t usually start in Annabeth Chase’s bed – in fact, none of them ever had. He hoped that maybe they’d end up spending the day together.
Or maybe she’d ask him to leave as soon as he got up.
He stayed there for another moment, trying to think of the perfect “spend the day with me” line, but he came up blank. He imagined what Grover might suggest. “ Have you tried,” he imagined Grover saying to him, “ ‘spend the day with me?’”
He’d just have to wing it.
~
He opened the door and stepped into the living room. Annabeth was standing in the kitchen over a frying pan, still in her pajamas (now rumpled from a night of sleep), and her blonde hair was up in a high ponytail, the ends tangled together.
She looked up and smiled at him. If Percy thought his affection for her was under control and barely perceivable, that delusion was thoroughly shattered by the sight of her in the morning. Something in his chest tugged at him -- a desire to see this every day. Even sleep rumpled and eyes still puffy from the night before, she was gorgeous. He did his best to pull his thoughts back down to earth.
Before he could say anything to her, though, she told him: “You drool when you sleep.”
Percy flushed, a hand going up to his mouth to wipe away any trace of drool that might still be there. She laughed at him, and he smiled.
She turned back to the frying pan. “I’m making eggs. I hope that’s okay.”
“Eggs are great,” he said. “I thought you didn’t cook.”
She shrugged. “I told you, I’m not completely incompetent. I can scramble an egg reasonably well.” She said, dishing out the servings onto two plates.
Percy took a seat at the table. “How long have you been up?” He asked.
“‘Bout half an hour,” she said. “Coffee?”
He nodded, and she put a mug down in front of him, and then his plate of eggs and avocado toast.
She sat down at the other end of the table.
“Thanks,” Percy said, about to dig in.
He piled some eggs on top of his toast and took a bite. They were good, although he would struggle to find an adult who couldn’t make a decent scrambled egg. “How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Better,” she said. “A lot better. Thanks for listening to me and for staying the night.”
Percy smiled. “Of course, any time.” He felt his ears get hot. “Anyway …” he tried to think of literally anything else to say, but nothing came to mind. He tried to keep his face neutral, but he was pretty sure his pupils had become heart shaped, and his eyes were about to spring out of his head as steam came out of his ears. He tried to find the right words for spend the day with me?
“Do you have any plans for today?” Annabeth asked.
It took a moment for Percy to register what she had said. He was preoccupied by the casual way she sat at the other end of the table, sunlight bouncing off her curls, as if they sat together like this every day.
Finally, though, he remembered she’d asked him a question. “No, not really,” He told her.
“Do you want to hang out downtown for a little while?” She asked.
Percy smiled. That was one way to do it. “Sure, that’d be great.”
~
Percy stood in front of Annabeth's bathroom mirror, which had fogged up with steam from his shower. He leaned forward and drew a smiley face on her mirror for her to discover the next time she showered.
He dressed quickly, only having the same sweatpants and tee shirt from the night before, but it would have to do.
Annabeth was waiting on her couch for him to get ready. She was dressed in a light pink sweater and light jeans with her hair braided over her shoulder.
“Ready to go?” She asked.
Percy nodded. They grabbed their jackets and headed out the door.
~
They walked down the avenue to Washington Square Park, stopping on the way to indulge in some hot chocolates. It was just starting to get a little warmer – their daily temperature tended to hang out in the forties during the day, rather than what Percy called ‘face hurting temperatures.’
Still, he wished it was a little warmer so they could sit on a bench or the grass for a while and just relax in the Spring sun. But the cold sun of the end of February would have to do.
It did come with its perks, Percy realized, when a cold wind blew, prompting Annabeth to instinctively move closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest for a moment as the breeze blew by. When it was over, they parted, neither blushing or uncomfortable.
Sure, he was usually physically close to her, but stage intimacy was far less erotic than many people assumed. On stage or during rehearsal, both were sweaty, trying not to breathe too hard, and mostly worrying about their own steps and safety and the safety of their partner.
A gentle closeness so far removed from the studio, though, felt deeply intimate. He almost reached down to hold her hand, but she had it in her jacket pocket. He left his hand by his side in case she had the same thought, but she never reached for it.
When they reached the arch, Annabeth paused in front of it. “You know, if I hadn’t joined the company, I probably would have gone to school for architecture.”
“Really?” Percy asked, looking at her.
She nodded. “I guess I kind of am or was at least,” She said. “I was part time at NYU for a few years, but between being a principal, and planning a wedding, then calling off the wedding, and everything that came after that, I haven’t taken a class in almost …” she paused, “almost two years, I guess.”
“Why architecture?” Percy asked.
She shrugged. “Aesthetics, partly. I really enjoy aesthetic, design, and flow. Obviously, I do, or I wouldn’t be a dancer. But buildings can have all of those things too, just not in the same way.” She sipped her hot chocolate. “It’s also the opposite of dance. Buildings are static, and they’re so permanent.”
Percy nodded. The fleeting nature of ballet loomed over all of them. Most men could go until thirty-five at least, and a lot of women made it to forty, if not longer. But one bad injury could end a career in an instant.
“Do you want to be an architect when you retire?” He asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s a hard career to start at forty. Knowing myself I’ll end up directing or choreographing. I don’t think I could ever really leave it behind, you know?”
“You could design theaters,” he suggested.
She smiled at him like she had had the thought before. “Yeah, I could.” Her hand dropped out of her pocket and rested near his, but he didn’t feel courageous enough to take it. “What about you?” She asked.
“Oh, I have no idea,” Percy said. “I barely graduated high school. College is not my speed, so I’ll probably linger in the ballet world as long as they’ll have me.”
She bumped him with her shoulder. “Come on, you have no ideas?” He shook his head. “Wildest dream? If a genie showed up right now and told you he’d give you your dream career, what would it be?”
“Well,” Percy said, “if I’m wishing for stuff, I’d just wish to be able to dance forever.”
“Alright that’s on me,” Annabeth said, laughing, “I set the bar too low.” She took his hand as they kept walking, lacing their fingers together, and he smiled. “Seriously, I won’t judge you.” She squeezed his hand, and Percy felt his smile get wider against his will.
It was a hard question to answer. Percy had spent a lot of time in his training thinking about what he’d do if he didn’t get a company contract when his training ended. Teaching was one option, but he didn’t know if he’d like doing that if his own dreams had fallen through. With his poor grades, he always figured he’d just get a retail or restaurant job and try and work his way through management and dance on the weekends.
But if today were the day that he had to stop dancing …
“I guess I’d teach,” he admitted, “but I don’t know if I’d want to teach at SAB.”
“Why not?” She asked. They started walking out of the park and towards the street, wandering aimlessly through the West Village.
He had never really wanted to teach at SAB, he realized. Sure, the prospect of training a new group of kids who would go on to join City Ballet, and other top companies like Miami, Royal Ballet, Pacific Northwest was exciting, but he was lucky to have had that training at all. So many things had to go right in his life to even make it into their ranks – a good ballet teacher off the bat, scholarship money, his mom marrying a man who had a savings account and cared about her son. Without any of those things, Percy wouldn’t have a career.
“I was on my own at SAB,” he said, “one of the only kids who started late and didn’t have great training before that. Most other kids were,” like you, he thought, but he didn’t say it, “born lucky. They had exposure to ballet young, good training, and they never had to worry about how they were going to pay for things. I had to worry about that all the time. And I was still luckier than most.” He said. “Just think about how many talented kids there are just on my block alone that will never get my chance.” He looked ahead towards the street. The West Village had once a bohemian shithole, but (thanks in no small part to NYU) it had been gentrified into one of the most expensive areas in the city. “I guess if I could do anything I’d just try and help those kids. Don’t know how I’d do it, but that’s what I’d really like to do.” He told her. “I know it’s crazy.”
She stopped walking and pulled him to the side of the path, getting out of everyone's way.
“It’s not crazy,” She said.
For a moment on the edge of the sidewalk, hugging the wall of some coffee shop, neither of them moved. She looked at him, tilting her head up just slightly to look him in the eye. When she licked her lips slightly, Percy’s heart almost exploded, sure that she was going to lean in. But instead she broke the tension, turning back to the middle of the sidewalk to keep forward, dropping his hand.
“At least,” she said, not looking at him, “not as crazy as wanting to pivot to architecture.”
He jogged to catch up with her. “That’s not crazy either. Besides, if I know you at all, I know nothing will stop you from getting what you want.”
She smiled, looking down at the sidewalk as she walked forward. “Nothing stops you either as far as I can tell.”
“I am notoriously scrappy.” He said, pulling a laugh out her, which dissolved any remaining uncomfortable tension while taking away any remaining hope of a kiss.
~
When they finally got too cold to stand walking around any longer, they ducked into a dimly lit pub.
“Do you ever just wish you had a job where you didn’t have to worry so much about what you ate and drank?” Annabeth asked him. They did eat a lot, of course. They both probably ate more than the average person, they just also had to eat way healthier than the average person.
“Pretty much every day.” Percy said. “Every time a season ends, I just crush a cheeseburger, first thing.”
Annabeth had been to the pub before, and guided Percy through some good options on the menu.
Their conversation stayed light – childhood stories, embarrassing moments, favorite TV shows. When Annabeth started to ramble about how architecture was a universal language for people, one that was like dance -- beyond words -- Percy couldn’t stop smiling. Her gaze was distant, but her eyes were bright. Percy was delighted to see her so happy.
There were still so many little things he’d never known about her, he realized. For all their rehearsal time, for all of the detailed ways they understood one another, and everything they’d shared the night before, Annabeth was still a bit of a mystery to him.
“You said you have a stepmom?” He asked.
“Yeah,” she said, barely hiding her contempt for the woman.
“Is your birth mom …” Percy trailed off, realizing the question was maybe too rude or invasive.
Annabeth took a bite of food, stalling to decide what she would tell him. “She left when I was a baby. I never knew her.” She paused, her fork pushed around the peas on her plate. “Sometimes I wonder if she’ll come to the ballet, if she’d recognize me. Or if I’d recognize her walking down the street. I don’t think I would.”
Percy reached across the table and took her hand. It was becoming incredibly mundane to hold her hand, he realized. Maybe this was a date. He ran a thumb over her knuckles to comfort her.
“I never knew my dad either,” he paused before sharing the ridiculous part. “My mom told me he was lost at sea.” He watched Annabeth bite her lip to keep from laughing. “You can laugh, it’s an incredibly 19th century way to die.” She let herself smile, even giggled a little. “I have a hard time believing it, honestly. It always sounded like the deadbeat dad equivalent of your dog going upstate to live on a farm.”
“So, one dad lost at sea, the other drowned in the river?” Annabeth asked.
“We insist Paul stay away from large bodies of water for his own safety.”
When the check came, Annabeth grabbed it off the table before Percy could even reach for it.
“Absolutely not,” Annabeth said when Percy reached across the table. “You’ve done so much for me the last few days, buying you lunch is the least I can do.”
Percy didn’t protest anymore, instead just choosing to thank her for the meal. He hoped it wasn’t the last one they got to share together.
~
As the afternoon went on and the sun started to set, Percy realized he needed to go home. He didn’t want to leave Annabeth, but he also didn’t want to be wearing the same clothes for twenty-four hours.
“I can come back if you need anything, or if Luke comes around,” he said as they headed towards the subway.
Annabeth shook her head. “I should be fine. I think I’m going to call Beck and Silena and talk some things out with them.” You can talk to me, Percy wanted to insist. But he knew she was closer with them than with him, no matter what he wanted to be true.
“Call me if you need anything,” he told her. She nodded and promised she would.
They stood at the top of the subway stairs, doing their best to stay out of everyone else’s way, but that was almost impossible to do when you were standing still on the New York City sidewalk.
“Percy,” she said looking up at him, “thank you. Seriously, thank you for everything.” She pulled him into a tight hug, burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to hold her even closer. Her hair smelled like lemons.
“Anytime,” he told her. He pressed a gentle kiss into the top of her head; if she noticed or minded, she didn’t show any sign of it.
Annabeth pulled away after a little too long (not that Percy minded) and smiled at him. “Get home safe,” she said, before turning to head towards her apartment.
~
Percy rested his head back against the subway window, grateful for a seat on his way back up town, trying to remember the way Annabeth’s hair smelled, and the ways her eyes lit up when she was excited.
He hoped that they stayed close when they weren’t dancing together anymore. They have to, he figured. They were friends now, not just coworkers or dance partners.
He knew from experience that performances come and go too quickly – a month of rehearsal just for four shows? It was almost unfair. Lee’s husband, a Broadway actor, had once complained about his eight shows a week schedule at a company party. Eight Sleeping Beauty’s a week was probably physically impossible, but Percy did sometimes miss doing six or eight ballets a week as an apprentice or corps member. He certainly wouldn’t pass up one or two extra performances of Sleeping Beauty if he had the chance . He wanted to hold onto it for just a little bit longer.
~
When Percy woke up the next morning, his chest was already tight with anxiety, his heart thumping loudly. He didn’t remember his dream, but he’d had enough pre-show nightmares to imagine what public embarrassments his subconscious had created for him. He performed tomorrow, he remembered. He took a deep breath, but it didn’t do anything to calm his anxiety. He did his daily morning routine of breakfast, pilates, and stretching, the rapid beating of his heart calming only ever long enough for him to notice.
He had fleeting moments of confidence as a dancer – moments where he was sure he was good, that he was going to succeed, moments where, if he closed his eyes, he could swear that he was flying, not just jumping. That feeling of freedom. But mostly he would rag on himself for things he couldn’t do or didn’t do well. Those fleeting moments of confidence could be diminished by any small error.
He had to succeed. His mother had sacrificed so much just to get him to dance practice and to keep him enrolled at the school. There were so many years of his career where principal felt impossible. But now he was so close. If he never made it that next step …
When he was twelve and his YMCA teacher told Sally that he should be in more advanced classes, Sally asked him if he wanted to continue ballet. Just say no, he had told himself, knowing that there was no way his mom could pay for all the lessons he’d need. It would hurt less to stop dancing at twelve than to make it all the way to fourteen or fifteen only to give it up then.
He had spent as much time dancing as he spent worrying that at some point the rug would be pulled out from under him, and he’d lose it all. That there would be a point where he just couldn’t continue. He already spent most of his training playing catch-up with people who had been dancing since they could stand.
But when the words “No, I don’t want to keep dancing” had left his twelve-year old mouth, his mother looked at him with knowing eyes.
“If you want to do it, we will do what we have to do,” she told him.
That meant he had to switch to public school and working jobs to pay for summer intensives and after-school classes. Dance was more than just a way to stay out of the house, away from Gabe. He’d started getting into fewer and fewer fights. Once Gabe was gone, he really shaped up. He’d never even met the principal of the public school he went to before moving to SAB. Even his grades improved. He was no Einstein, but he’d gotten a B in his science class.
Even with all that, and his scholarships, it was Paul that made any of it possible. He’d gotten lucky; finally, some of that luck that seemed to grace some of the worst people finally trickled down to him and his mom. She had married a man with a savings account and love of the arts. He had no problem helping them pay for his summer intensives or his academy tuition.
He thought of his meeting with Chiron at the end of his last year at SAB. The year before, when he was seventeen, he had been encouraged to stay another year, and to try out for other companies. “An apprenticeship isn’t out of the picture,” Chiron told him, but Percy had barely heard it.
He stumbled home in a daze. He didn’t know what he’d expected. He felt dumb for hoping even a little bit that he might finally earn a spot.
When he opened the door to the apartment, he tried to run past his mom, who shouted after him asking about his day. Chiron never scheduled the one-on-ones in advance; it made the whole thing more and less anxiety inducing. He threw his bag on the bed, filled with a familiar anger he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted to hit the wall, or go outside and find some bully he could punch. It wasn’t fair .
His door cracked open, and the anger dissipated.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She asked. Percy couldn’t remember the last time he cried. He thought he’d lost the ability to really, really break down somewhere in middle school. But he was out of practice holding back tears with anger, and with the anger gone, there wasn’t anything to stop it.
Before he really knew what was happening, his mom had him in her arms, sitting him on the bed as she hugged him.
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he cried, guilt and disappointment cut through his stomach and chest like a knife. Sally had tried to assure him that he wasn’t a failure, but that didn’t change any of his thinking on the issue. “I tried so hard.”
When Nutcracker season came, and Percy wasn’t offered an apprenticeship, he figured that it truly was over. “Men almost never get chosen this time of year,” his friend Rachel reminded him. “They need girls.” Her eyes were rimmed red; he’d noticed the way she’d snuck out once word got out that the apprentices had been chosen, and she hadn’t been one of them.
He went through the motions of audition season, determined to get a spot in a different top five company, or at least one in an exciting location, like England or Germany. After weeks of no positive news, he had almost gotten to a point where he thought his entire dance career was over, until Lupa Lopez had called him back about his audition, and offered him a spot at Miami. He and Rachel were the only two from SAB she’d chosen. His mom had let him have a glass of champagne to celebrate.
Chiron was less enthusiastic than his mother had been. When Percy told him the good news, he kept a straight face and asked, “Have you signed anything yet?”
“No.”
“Good, don’t.”
He was called into the office two days later. “Lupa and I have the same eye for dancers,” he said. “She’s taken some of my best away from me. So, it wasn’t surprising to hear that she was interested in you joining her company. She must see the same things in you that I see.”
Percy’s eyes went wide.
“You’re talented, Percy,” Chiron continued, “and disciplined,” that was the first time a teacher had said that about him, he realized. Chiron handed Percy a stack of a few papers. “And you should stay with City Ballet.”
It took Percy a moment to realize what he was looking at. His dyslexia only acted up when he got stressed. Finally, he deciphered it. “Wait … is this for real?” He was holding an apprentice contract with his name on it.
“Sorry for making you go on all of those auditions,” Chiron said. He wanted to ask why it had taken so long, but he held back his pride long enough to make it out of the office without fucking up his career before it started.
Percy hadn’t even waited to get home to tell his mom. Instead, he found a quiet stairwell where he could tell her and cry with her. He thought she was going to break his ribs with how tightly she hugged him when he got home. “I’m just so happy,” she said, “that you don’t have to move to Miami.”
He was tired of barely succeeding – barely making it into SAB, barely getting an apprenticeship, barely getting leading roles. He wondered for a moment if she had these fleeting moments of confidence met quickly by self-doubt, before he remembered their last “Diamonds” rehearsal. It had taken her nine months to come back to New York, to step on stage again. Even now, in The Sleeping Beauty rehearsals, she sometimes faltered, losing confidence in her left foot, or some other part of herself. She hadn’t just gotten injured during “Diamonds.” She had broken something much deeper; she had hit a level of doubt and pain that you can’t easily pull yourself out of.
He didn’t have the luxury of breaking, though. He could only bend.
Annabeth couldn’t break either. Luke had been in the wings during “Diamonds,” he remembered. He thought then what everyone else thought -- just a fiancé watching his girl. He felt a chill, and remembered the way Luke hadn’t moved a muscle to help her when she fell. He was waiting, Percy realized, for her to fail. And he was in New York now, waiting in the audience for her to fall again.
Don’t let me fall, she’d asked him during their very first run of the pas together. He wouldn’t, he decided. He didn’t care what they had to do, they were going to hold each other upright.
They both had to bend and bend far. Four shows, Percy realized, four shows to get it right. Just don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her. He told himself. And if you forget the choreography, just make it up.
Luke had left a principal male spot open that Chiron still hadn’t filled. In a fleeting moment of confidence, Percy told himself You’re the perfect fit.
He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, but he couldn’t see what was at the bottom. He was safe as long as he stayed on land. If he jumped, he could die, or he could land safely in the water. There wasn’t another way forward.
Notes:
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I sometimes post updates, and may also post previews of future chapters if you askNext chapter is the performance!
Chapter 8: The Sleeping Beauty
Summary:
The New York City Ballet Production of The Sleeping Beauty. They have four shows together. Four shows to get it just right.
Notes:
Got too excited about this chapter to hold off on posting it. It's finally time for the performance of The Sleeping Beauty!
Follow me on Tumblr @demigodsanswer if you don't already! I sometimes post writing updates or fic snip-its.
Comments are always welcome. There's only one more chapter of rewriting before I am onto just writing brand new material for this fic, so comments keep me motivated to that
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Percy’s heart was pounding when he woke up. He was sure he had an anxiety nightmare, but the details of it were already fading. They were all usually the same – he would leave his apartment too late, the subway would get stuck underground, something – everything – would keep him from getting to the theater on time. In the dreams, he never got to the theater at all before waking up; he always ended up stuck in a tunnel or in a car accident woefully distant from Lincoln Center.
This morning was no different.
He rolled out of bed, turned off his alarm, and dragged himself into the kitchen. His stomach felt too restless for food, but he knew he needed it. He blended some fruit together with protein powder to get him started, before heading back into his bedroom for his morning routine.
As a dancer, he had to care for his body the way a musician cared for their instrument. Every morning was the same, but on performance days, he was particularly meticulous. He started with a calm, fluid yoga flow, breathing carefully to settle his nerves. His muscles warmed up slowly. Aching joints popped as he moved. Then, once he felt alive and most of his smoothie was gone, he shifted to pilates. He’d do more at the studio to warm up for class, but he liked to make sure his legs and glutes were stretched out and warm first thing, and that his abs were working. Then push ups for his arms, then some calf raises for his feet and legs. He usually finished in an hour, but today, he let himself do whatever he needed to feel warm and limber. He stepped out of his room already sweaty an hour and a half later. He stopped in the kitchen for some water before a shower.
His mom had circled today's date on their wall calendar, and written SB in bright pink marker. His family’s tickets were under a fridge magnet, waiting for them to leave for the theater in about twelve hours. Percy would leave hours ahead of them, though, heading to the theater by himself for the last class and rehearsal they would have.
As he waited for his coffee to brew, he heard his mom walk into the kitchen. She offered to make him lunch for the day, an offer that Percy graciously accepted.
Before she started to cook, she pulled Percy into a hug. “You’re going to be amazing,” she told him.
“What if I’m not?” He asked.
“You’ve already done it once,” she said, “so you can do it again.”
~
Two hours later, Percy’s stomach had settled, mixing nervousness with excitement as the 1 train pulled into his stop.
Class was on the stage again, as it usually was on performance days. The house was lit up, so Percy could see all the empty seats that, before long, would be filled with waiting audience members.
Annabeth smiled at him when he walked onto the stage, and excitement overtook nervousness for just a moment. He took a spot at the barre next to her. She looked wide awake, her eyes bright. As he stepped next to her, her smile only got wider.
“Are you excited?” She asked, her own excitement palpable.
With a wavering voice he said, “Yeah.”
She placed her hand over his on the barre, and stepped closer, so their chests were nearly pressed together. With their hands still curved around the barre, she laced their fingers together as best she could.
“It’s just you and me,” she said.
Percy nodded, and was about to find something to say, when he felt eyes on them. Most people were minding their business, but Ethan, one of Luke’s old buddies, was staring at them. Annabeth shot him a dirty look before turning back to Percy. He thought she might just kiss him, right there, just to prove something. But she stayed still, trying to ignore Ethan’s look.
“It’s just you and me,” Percy reminded her. Her smile returned. Almost giddy with excitement, she pulled him into a hug, and she didn’t seem to care at all about who was watching.
~
On his lunch break, Percy walked a few blocks to find a flower shop. He picked up a dozen pink roses.
“Someone special?” The florist asked.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling into the bouquet, “she is.”
~
Percy hid the flowers in his own dressing room until it was nearly show time. They’d been running a few last minute things on stage, and had only just run off to go get ready. He knocked on her door. Annabeth was already dressed in her act one costume when she opened the door. She was wearing the same costume he’d seen her in for rehearsal, but the anticipation of the performance seemed to make her glow. She ballet personified, in her pink pancake tutu, pink tights, bun, and tiny tiara. He couldn’t even manage to say something when he saw her. Annabeth Chase was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
She smiled when she saw the flowers.
“Percy …?”
“They’re for you,” he said, holding them out to her, finally finding his voice and picking his jaw up off the floor. “A congratulations, a thank you, and a good luck.”
She took them, smiling wide. “A thank you? For what?” She walked further into her dressing room and walked over to a table that already had a bouquet of flowers – these ones were multicolored and already in a vase. She picked it up and put it on the floor, making room for Percy’s vase instead.
Percy shrugged. “For everything. You’ve been such a good friend and partner these last few weeks,” he said, wandering into her dressing room, closing the door behind him.
“If anyone should be doing the thanking, Percy, it’s me,” she said, turning towards him. “I couldn’t have gotten through these last few weeks without you.” Percy tried to shrug it off, but she said, “I’m serious. You’re a dear friend. I hope … “ Percy stepped closer, “I hope it’s not just for the ballet.”
“Our friendship?” Percy asked. She nodded. “Of course not. Annabeth, you,” he rested a hand on her face. “You mean more to me … I mean, I’ve told you things …”
He felt her hands make their way into his hair, still a messy tangle of black curls he’d need to gel down before long. He started to lean down, and she started to lean up.
Then the door opened. They heard Piper yelp, before shutting the door behind her. Annabeth pulled away, her face, still free of stage makeup, bright red. Percy felt similar. He should still go for it, he thought, just reach out and kiss her. But the moment was gone. Anything now would just be a distraction.
“Who else sent you flowers?” He asked, trying to ignore the moment they’d shared.
“My family,” she said.
“Are they coming tonight?”
“My dad is. My stepmom and brothers can’t make it, though.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be, I won’t miss them,” she fluffed Percy’s roses a bit. “They’re beautiful,” she said, still turned away from him. She turned back and walked towards him, her arms open.
Percy, praying to every possible god that he didn’t misunderstand the gesture, pulled her in close for a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered into his chest.
With her pressed so close to him, he could feel her heart being fast. He wondered if she could feel his matching the tempo.
“You’re going to do great,” he said, rubbing her back.
She pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, but close enough still to keep her arms around him. “ We’re going to do great,” she said, smiling. It sounded like a promise.
~
Piper was standing outside, still not dressed, but hair and makeup done. “You know that’s my dressing room too, right?” She asked. Percy blushed, and she didn’t wait for an answer. “What is going on with you two?”
Percy ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea,” he said honestly.
Piper looked at him, confused, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean, you don’t know? You two were just kissing --”
“Almost kissing,” Percy said.
“Well it’s not like you haven’t done that before.” The look on Percy’s face must have been crystal clear. “You haven’t? But she …” Piper lowered her voice. “She told me you spent the night at her house the other day?”
“Yeah but we didn’t --”
Piper put her hands on his shoulders and seemed to almost double over, before she started laughing. “Oh my god, you two had a sleepover?” Percy ears were red. “Dude, I thought you two have been …” she trailed off, her mouth open. “And you haven’t?” Percy shook his head. They hadn’t kissed, they hadn’t fucked. They’d maybe gone on a date, but he wasn’t sure. “And I just ruined what was sure to be a beautiful first kiss?” Percy nodded. She looked genuinely sorry when she apologized.
~
Percy stepped out of his dressing room as the overture began. He had nearly an hour before he was needed on stage, but he wanted to see Piper and Annabeth perform in the prologue and act one. There wasn’t a better seat in the house than the one he got – right in the wings, only ten feet away; the easiest place to support your friends.
When he got to the side of the stage, he saw Annabeth practicing her balances – one hand was on a barre, one leg was back in attitude, and she would lift her arm off the barre and into fifth position every few seconds. She was hardly shaking. She was strong.
When she finally dropped down, satisfied with her backstage performance, Percy walked over.
“You’re steady as a rock,” he said.
The wide smile and excitement from that morning were now covered by a layer of pre-show nerves that were painted on her face. He knew they would melt away once she stepped into the spotlight and heard the music, but he wished he could take them away from her now.
“I just hope I do it right.”
Percy held out a hand. She stepped up onto pointe, grabbing Percy’s hand as she raised her right leg in attitude, her other arm up in fifth. She let go of his hand after a moment to lift her arm to match the other. She stayed stayed, then took his hand again. “You’ve already done it once,” he said, “you can do it again.”
She came down off of releve , and took both of his hands in hers. “Thank you.” Her smile looked less forced this time.
~
Percy gave Annabeth some space as she prepared to take the stage for the adagio. From his place about ten feet downstage of her, he watched her take a few deep breaths, roll her neck from side to side, and shake out her hands, as if the nerves would fly out of her fingertips.
Finally, the music to her entrance started.
Percy didn’t envy her entrance at all. They’d nicknamed it Jaws, because the music had that threatening dun-dun quality to it, and the dance started at such a rapid pace, you might as well be getting chased by a shark. “It’s like I’m being shot out of a cannon,” she had complained to him once.
But she looked effervescent, truly like a sixteen-year-old ready to celebrate her birthday. Her smile was wide, her arm movements controlled but long and exuberant. She hit every mark, every beat, not that he expected anything else. His heart raced watching her, and he thought about his sister in the audience. How wide-eyed she must be to watch the woman who was in their apartment just a few weeks ago dance like this on stage at Lincoln Center. Percy wasn’t even a ten-year-old girl and he felt inspired just watching her. She was a real artist. He had a feeling Luke’s name was already fading from people’s memories, but Annabeth would be one of those dancers the culture remembered for a long, long time.
When the music for the adagio started a few minutes later, she looked perfectly calm in her element. Annabeth ran to the woman playing her mother. What should I do? She mimed. Dance with them! The mother told her. Ah, yes, I’ll dance with them!
Dancers joked that if you ever had a perfect performance, you should retire the next day. There was no such thing as a flawless performance. Percy had never had one, nor seen one.
But as Annabeth stepped onto pointe for the final set of balances without hesitation or the slightest shake in her ankle, Percy thought Annabeth might just have hers. And even if she messed up everything in acts two and three, it wouldn’t matter. She had nailed the adagio.
Annabeth stood tall and steady, taking each prince’s hand in her own time, balancing in between them as if her toes were glued to the floor and her body was suspended from the ceiling. She held her balance for so long in between the men, Percy realized, that she had forced the orchestra to wait for her. The conductor looked on, the tempo slowing, dragging the music out, waiting for her to drop her hand into her next partner’s, rather than cuing her to take the next step.
Percy smiled, anxious to hug her and congratulated her.
Finally, Annabeth rolled down off point, for the final few steps of the adagio, smiling wide at her own achievement.
Act one finished without any disasters – Annabeth pricked her finger and collapsed and was carried off stage and Piper closed the act.
Travis had to carry Annabeth off stage; once they were in the wings, he stood her back up, offering her praise. Percy rushed to her, not waiting for her to catch her breath or for the curtain to drop. Her face and chest were sweaty, and she was breathing hard, but her smile was wide and triumphant.
He pulled her into a tight hug, mumbling “you were fantastic” into her bun. She laughed and bounced up and down like she was a child again.
“I have to get changed,” she said, pulling away from him to head towards her dressing room.
Percy did a quick pirouette in the wings, getting around four times before landing clean. Then he did a silly little two-step dance to celebrate, the way he would when he was a child.
For the first time all day – for the first time since rehearsal began - he felt ready for his debut.
~
When the curtain rose, it always blew a gust of wind back on the dancers posed to start. It was Percy's favorite part. The breeze always shook him, washing over him like a blessing. He had to close his eyes to the wind, and when he opened them, the stage lights were bright, blocking his view of the audience.
Percy's entrance was much quieter than Annabeth’s, but it wasn’t long before he was alone on a dark stage, taking his solo. This was his introduction to the audience, and he needed to captivate them right away. He didn’t have a fairy dress or pointe shoes, he just had a simple prince costume, the stage to himself, and about two minutes of slow, graceful movements.
“Who is the prince?” Mr. D, had asked Percy in an early rehearsal. “What is he like?”
“The prince is a bit of a lost soul,” Percy responded. “There’s a longing for something else, whether that is love or some other excitement, he just wants something more than the material life he has been born into. He finds that something else with Aurora.”
His solo is the chance for the audience to see that longing, that desire.
Percy had not ever had much of a material life himself, but he understood that deep longing for love and something more than what he had.
He didn’t fear taking up space on the stage – it had been left empty for him. Soon, the Lilac Fairy would fill it, dream Aurora would enter, and the Prince would find the meaning and purpose in his life. But in this lonely moment, Percy could only rely on himself. He thought about Annabeth, standing so tall on two toes, forcing the orchestra to wait for her to be done, and he borrowed some of her confidence, and mixed it with his own desires and longings.
He felt his body begin to sweat as he moved it through the choreography, but it didn’t bother him at all. He relished the feeling of working his body to its limits – turning faster, stretching farther, lifting his partners higher. The choreography wasn’t in his mind; it was in his body, in his heart. He didn’t stand on the stage and think “arabesque into pirouette,” he just thought about the Prince, and his journey, and the storytelling. His body did the steps without him thinking about them, but he, the sum of all of his parts, told the story. Sweat tickled behind his knees and under his arms, and his lungs burned from the movement, but he didn’t stop, he didn’t rest, he didn’t falter.
He stretched his leg back farther, he turned faster, and then –
He stopped with the music, trying not to breathe too heavily as the scene continued.
When he heard the audience applaud for him at the end of his variation, the memory of what he had done was already fading, as memories of his own performances often did, but when he looked stage left to where Piper would enter, he saw Chiron smiling at him, and he knew he had done well.
~
As act two came to an end, Percy stepped up onto the bed Annabeth was “sleeping” on, ready to wake her up with one perfect kiss.
Percy mustered up his courage, and, in a voice loud enough that she could hear, but subtle enough that no one would see his lips move, he whispered: “You’re my dream girl.”
He felt her smile against his lips at the joke. When she sat up, he could tell she was straining to either not laugh or not yell at him. He didn’t mind either way.
~
They stood on opposite sides of the stage for their third act entrance. From the other side, Annabeth blew him a kiss. He caught it in his hand, and mimed putting it in his pocket. He blew one back, and she turned her head to catch it on her cheek. From behind her, he watched Piper mouth to him what the fuck?
The music started. They made their entrances and met in the middle. Annabeth’s smile for this act wasn’t as wide as it was in act one. Now it was more regal, refined. There was love, but she -- Aurora -- was becoming a queen. And she had to show it.
The wedding pas passed in a blur. But he knew they were hitting all of their marks.
As Annabeth held herself up in the final fish dive of the wedding scene, Percy thought we should both retire tomorrow.
~
When the curtain fell after bows, Percy turned to Annabeth. As she jumped up for a hug, Percy lifted her off the floor, spinning her around.
“The tulle,” Piper said behind them. “Silena’s gonna claw your eyes out if you crush the tutu.” Percy set Annabeth down and just scooped Piper up instead. Soon they were in a big three person hug. Percy made a note to bring Silena extra cookies to apologize for whatever they were doing to their costumes.
~
Chiron sent them home, told them to rest up. He’d send along any notes in the morning. “Most of all, congratulations. You should all be very,” he looked at Percy and Annabeth, “ very happy.”
Percy changed fast, wiping off his makeup and hanging up his costume. His parents would be in the lobby waiting for him. He just about ran out to meet them. His mother screamed in excitement when she saw him, her voice echoing through the mostly-empty lobby. She had tears on her face, he could see. It almost made him misty eyed. He ran to hug her. Soon Estelle and Paul joined in. Estelle pulled away first.
“You stink,” she said.
“You will too in a few years when it’s your turn to do Aurora,” he said. She beamed.
“Percy, that was amazing,” his mom said, holding onto his arms. “You’ve always been so good, but that --” she cut herself off by hugging her again.
“We’re very proud of you,” Paul said.
“Where’s Annabeth?” Estelle asked. Percy searched for her. She said she’d find them in the lobby after she met up with her dad. (“I care about Estelle way more than my dad. I’ll be sure to find you,” she promised).
“Oh,” Sally said. She started to wave, then put her hand down. “Who’s she with?”
“Her da --” Percy started to say as he turned to where Annabeth was standing. She was with a middle aged man with dull brown hair that probably used to be as blonde as hers. But next to her was a more striking head of blonde hair. “Her dad and her ex,” Percy said.
Sally caught sight of Percy’s expression. She knew him well enough to know the angry look on his face wasn’t simply jealousy.
“Paul, why don’t you and Estelle wait outside? We’ll let Annabeth know where you are,” Sally said. Paul didn’t seem to understand what exactly was happening, but he ushered Estelle out anyway. Percy watched them stop at the souvenir stand, instead of going right out.
Annabeth caught Percy’s eye, a clear look of help me on her face. Percy didn’t need to say anything to his mom, before she was on her way over to them.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully. She introduced herself to Annabeth’s dad, and then lavished Annabeth with praise. She barely acknowledged Luke any more than she needed to. Percy certainly didn’t. Luke wasn’t quick to compliment him either. If Fred Chase noticed the tension, he wasn’t showing it.
“Lovely to meet you Sally,” Fred said, “and amazing work Annie. I better head out.” Annabeth looked at her father, a pleading look on her face that he didn’t seem to register.
When Frederick was gone, Luke turned to her. “We should also go,” he said, holding a hand out to Annabeth. If he was trying to trap her through politie social conventions, he was unsuccessful.
Annabeth glared daggers into him, and she shifted her body away. At first, Percy thought she was just recoiling, but then he spotted her hand ready to come up and slap him, her face twisting in disgust at the mere suggestion of her going home with him.
Sally noticed Annabeth’s intentions too, and simply grabbed Annabeth’s hand, as if Annabeth had been reaching for her. Sally rested her other hand on Annabeth’s other arm, pulling her back away from Luke.
“I’m so sorry … Luke, was it? Annabeth, we’re going to be late,” she gave Annabeth a moment to nod.
“Is it that late already?” Annabeth asked. “So sorry, Luke, we need to go.”
Luke’s eyes turned dark and fixed on Percy, then back to Annabeth. His mom had a familiar sweet smile she’d always used when placating Gabe. “Alright. I’ll see you later then.” Percy saw his mother’s eyes narrow as Annabeth started to say “no,” but Luke just turned on his heels and headed out the door before either woman could say anything.
Annabeth let out a heavy, shaking breath. Sally pulled her in close.
“Sweetheart, does that man know where you live?”
Annabeth nodded.
“You’re going to stay with us tonight,” Sally told her. “We have everything a recovering dancer could ever need, and I’m sure Estelle will give you her bed.”
Annabeth didn’t protest or even try to politely decline. “Thank you,” she said.
~
They left Lincoln Center, Estelle sporting a new tee shirt and hoodie combination that Percy probably could have stolen for her. Annabeth was quiet as they left. They spotted Luke on the stairs, talking to a few old friends. He glanced their way, but Annabeth kept her head down as Ethan shouted after her. “Great work tonight Annabeth!” He yelled. If he wasn’t standing so close to Luke, Percy would assume it was genuine. He felt Annabeth slip her hand into his. Don’t let me fall, she seemed to say. Percy squeezed her hand. I’ve got you, he promised.
“I need to finish this,” Annabeth whispered to Percy.
“Mom, we’ll meet you at home,” Percy said, as Annabeth dropped his hand and started towards Luke.
Sally shooed Paul and Estelle further down the stairs before turning to Percy. “Whatever you do, do not get arrested or hurt, Percy. You aren’t a child anymore.” Percy just nodded and jogged over to where Luke had met Annabeth.
He was already going on and on when Percy got there. Annabeth’s face was soft, receptive, almost loving. Percy resisted the urge to shake her out of whatever trance Luke had put her into.
“I’ve spent all week just trying to find you, Annie. I’ve missed you so much,” he pulled a ring box out of his pocket, and opened it. Inside was the ruby and diamond ring he’d seen her wear for almost a year straight. “It belongs to you. I want you to have it. And when you’re ready, maybe we can talk about …” Luke glanced at Percy, venom in his eyes, “things.”
“Luke, I …” Annabeth’s voice was gentle and sweet. Like she was actually believing this garbage.
“Annabeth?” Percy said, trying to bring her back to reality. But she just held out her hand, waiting for Luke to put her engagement ring back on.
Her right hand, Percy clocked. Luke didn’t seem to catch it, though, as he slipped the ring on.
Annabeth stared down at it, before covering her right hand with her left in front of her stomach. Percy watched the fingers of her left hand fiddle with the ring. She still wore that soft look of love, and Luke looked back at her with the same affection.
“Annie … “ He started.
“Luke,” her voice was so sickly sweet Percy could have puked on the steps. He watched Annabeth smile like her dreams were coming true, and say, in that same lovely, soft voice, “that’s not my name.”
“What?” Luke asked, pulling away. Luke had forgotten just how talented a performer Annabeth Chase really is.
“And please, please,” she kept up the voice, “from the bottom of my heart. Go fuck yourself.”
She had turned the ring so the jewel was on the inside of her hand. Sally wasn’t here this time to hold her back as Annabeth’s open palm, ring and all, hit Luke’s cheek.
Luke nearly fell over at the blow. He hunched, cupping his cheek as he called Annabeth a bitch loud enough for his friends a few feet away to hear him. Percy looked past Luke to the group. Ethan looked horrified, but Travis and Connor were grinning like dogs, like they’d just been waiting for someone to finally do it.
“Hell yeah, Annabeth!” He heard Connor yell.
Annabeth only got closer to Luke, her voice low enough that only Luke and Percy could hear. The ruby had cut his cheek, and a thin drop of blood slid down it. The love was gone, replaced by a cold, vengeful wrath that Percy could only describe as incredibly fucking hot.
“We still have your email, Luke. What you sent Percy was illegal. And it wasn’t the only illegal thing you’ve done to me. Remember, you only have your life because I decided to let you keep it. If you keep coming around to the ballet, I might change my mind. So go back to Portland, and leave me alone.”
Percy started to follow her down the steps, but after only a few, she stopped and turned back to him. She tore the ring off her finger and threw it at him. “And keep your fucking ring!” She yelled back at him.
Percy stifled a laugh at the indignity of watching a grown man scramble around on the stairs chasing a very expensive ring.
The two ran quickly down the stairs, and Annabeth was hailing a cab before they’d even made it all the way to the curb. They slid in fast, and Percy rattled off his cross streets. The taxi driver seemed to match their frantic energy as he sped off.
Annabeth leaned back into the leather of the seat, her face in her hands. A moment later Percy noticed her shoulders shaking. He rested a worried hand on her knee.
“Annabeth …”
She moved her hands, and she wasn’t crying. She was laughing. She was hysterical, and it was contagious. Percy started to laugh too.
“Is your hand okay?” Percy asked through his laughter.
“Oh yeah,” she held it up and showed him, tears in the corners of her eyes, “that big ass ruby bore the brunt of his cheekbone.”
Percy started to clap. “Performance of the fucking year. I mean, I thought you were great in Sleeping Beauty, but that was incredible.”
“Oh,” she sighed, trying to calm her laughter as she wiped at her eyes. “You don’t think this makes me a terrible person?” She asked.
“No, in fact, I think it was incredibly hot, and if anything you should have hit him harder.”
~
When they got home, Sally set them up with two ice buckets for their feet and glasses of champagne to celebrate. She didn’t ask what had happened, but she did shoot Percy a thank god you’re not in jail glance.
Percy had offered Annabeth the first shower, and she’d come out looking a lot more relaxed. He’d given her pajamas to wear, silently begging her not to dress in his mother’s clothes. He already lived with her, he didn’t need some added complex.
Percy found Annabeth in the hallway as he headed towards the bathroom. She was in one of his old basketball tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants tied tight. She was staring at family photos.
“You were a cute kid,” she said. It was a picture of him at summer camp in some hideous bright orange shirt. “Do you think we would have been friends?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said without hesitating.
She turned around to face him, her voice low. “What did you tell your mom about Luke and me?” She asked.
“Nothing. Just that he was your ex.” Her face told him that she didn’t believe him. “You looked at us like … you needed help. She knew what the look meant. She doesn’t need me to tell her what kind of man he is.”
Annabeth nodded. “I don’t know how to thank her.”
Percy pushed a piece of hair out of her face. “You don’t need to.”
She let out a small laugh as if to say yes, I do. But before she could, Sally called to them. “Annabeth, your ice bucket is ready.”
A look of relief flooded Annabeth’s face.
“Go,” Percy told her. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
When he got back to the living room, Annabeth was showing Estelle her pointe shoes up close. “I won’t wear these again. They’re too dead,” Annabeth said. Annabeth was looking wide-eyed at the shoes, and then back to Annabeth. “You can keep them --” Estelle gasped and shamelessly reached out for them “-- If! You promise you won’t try to wear them.”
Estelle nodded, holding up her pinky. They pinky swore on it, and Annabeth handed over the shoes.
Estelle ran off, excited to show Sally.
“I thought you’d want to keep the opening night pair?” Percy said. He remembered the few pairs of shoes decorating her room with important dates written on them.
“I went through two pairs of shoes tonight,” she reminded him. “No need to keep both.”
There was a long silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They just sipped their drinks, watched some reruns of a housewives show, and enjoyed their success.
“How do you feel?” Percy finally asked.
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“This is the happiest I've felt in a long time.”
~
Annabeth stayed in Estelle’s room. Estelle had offered the bed without any convincing from their mom, and excitedly took the air mattress into her room. Annabeth had promised to do her hair in the morning in the Balanchine bun style so she could wear it to her own dance class.
“Nobody believes me when I tell them I know you,” Estelle said. “They’ve even met Percy and they still don’t believe me.”
“Well,” Annabeth said, looking at Percy, “maybe we’ll drop you off at class tomorrow.” Percy’s heart could have exploded with affection for Annabeth when Estelle jumped into her arms, asking her if she promised to do that. Annabeth did.
Percy woke up the next morning earlier than he usually would have after a performance. Estelle’s dance class wasn’t until eleven, so it took him a second to figure out what had pulled him from sleep. His eyes focused, finally, on Annabeth shutting his bedroom door, early morning light pouring in through his window, as she talked quietly on the phone. She looked at him, a silent apology in her eyes.
“I went home with the Jackson’s last night,” she said to the person on the other line. “So?” He heard a man’s voice on the other end, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. Annabeth’s face paled. “Well, I didn’t invite him over last night.”
Percy sat up, realizing then that he’d slept only in his underwear like he usually did. Annabeth didn’t pay any attention to his bare chest as she sat down on his bed. Closer now, he could start to hear what the man was saying.
“ -- not fair for you to ignore him like this,” the voice said.
“Yes it is,” Annabeth said, her voice low but her tone angry. “We aren’t together, he doesn’t live with me, and he has no right to --”
“You two really can’t just work it out?”
“No,” Annabeth said simply. She looked at Percy and rolled her eyes, mouthing my father at him. “And I told you I didn’t invite him over. He just showed up at my apartment and spent half the morning harassing you to try and find me.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Annie.”
He watched Annabeth clench her jaw and shut her eyes tight, like the only thing keeping her from screaming was the early morning hour. Percy rested a hand on her shoulder, and started to run it up and down her arm in comfort.
“I just told you my ex-boyfriend followed me home, and you think I’m the dramatic one?” There was a long silence between them. He watched Annabeth take a long, steadying breath, the kind of breath she took right before stepping out on stage. “He wasn’t kind to me, Daddy. There is nothing he can do to win me back. This isn’t the first time he’s tried to … he showed up to dress rehearsal last week and tried to force himself in. Just to harass me. Last night … I don’t know what he would have tried to do if I was home.”
There was another long silence. “Annabeth, you didn’t tell me --” her father’s voice sounded genuinely sad.
“You never noticed!” She said, her voice raising a little, before she brought it back down. “Sally Jackson noticed. She took one look at him and figured out what kind of man he was. She’s why I wasn’t home last night.”
“Who is Sally Jackson?” Her father asked.
“Percy’s mom.”
“Who’s Percy?”
Annabeth groaned, running a finger through her tangled blonde hair. “The man on stage with me last night. You met both of them last night, before you ran off. You couldn’t be bothered to stick around for more than five minutes.”
“Annie, I understand that you’re mad at me. Maybe we should talk about this more at dinner.”
There was a fury in her eyes Percy wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. She looked like she was trying to turn her father to stone through the phone. “Fine. I’m bringing a copy of my lease. I need to move. As soon as possible.”
Annabeth hung up the phone before her father could respond.
Annabeth let out a heavy sigh before turning to Percy. “Sorry for waking you up, I just didn’t know where else to take the call.”
“No worries,” he said. “I’m proud of you, for being honest with him.”
“Our relationship is … complicated. He tries. But he doesn’t know what to do with me, and I don’t know what to do with him.” She stood up. Percy started to ask about Luke but she cut him off, changing the subject. “So, this is Percy Jackson’s room?”
Percy blushed. He didn’t have any sense of interior design, and his room had hardly changed since he was a teenager. Long hours of dance made it really just a place for sleeping more than anything. It was also a mess, with piles of clothes in strange places, dust on the shelves, and clutter and garbage on nearly every surface. He never really noticed these things before, and now he wished he’d taken better care of his space.
Annabeth started snooping, mostly looking at the few competition medals he still had on display, and the photos on top of his dresser of him and his friends (mostly him and Grover).
“That one,” Percy pointed to the first medal on the left, “was the first competition I won. It got me the scholarships I needed to get into a better dance program.” Annabeth touched it gently.
“How long had you been dancing when you won?” She asked.
“Eight months, about,” he said.
She kept looking at the medals. “You really must be some kind of once-in-a-generation talent.” He could hear the smile and admiration in her voice.
Percy flushed. “Well, I ---”
She turned and put up her hand, stopping him. “I mean it. And don’t argue with me. I’m argued-out for the morning.”
Percy didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled. He caught Annabeth’s gaze drop down to his bare chest for a moment, before back up, meeting his eyes in awkward eye contact. She smiled coyly.
“I didn’t realize you were --” naked, Percy assumed she was going to say.
“I’m not!” He said quickly. “I mean, not completely.” There was a flirty arch to her eyebrow again.
Annabeth Chase was never one to back down from a challenge. She walked over to his bedside, pulled back the comforter, and glanced at his boxers, before looking back up at him. There was an intense heat deep in Percy’s belly. His finger’s itched with want, and when his eyes met Annabeth’s dark gray ones, he could see she was thinking the same thing. He reached out a hand and rested it on her hip, his fingers slowly moving towards her backside, pulling her in towards him as he felt her up. She closed her eyes gently and took in a deep, approving breath as she reached a hand out, running her fingers through his hair. She leaned forward more, resting a knee on the mattress. Percy thought she might just crawl into his lap.
“We …” she let her hand fall out of his hair, tracing her fingers along his face as she pulled back. “We shouldn’t.”
Percy dropped his hand, letting her step back. Over the collar of the tee shirt, he could see that her neck and chest were flushed. His own heart was racing, and every part of him ached with an unsatisfied desire.
“Yeah,” was all he managed to say, before she turned and headed back out the door. “Annabeth?” He said before she reached the door. She turned to him. “Whenever you’re ready.” He meant it, and from the soft, almost apologetic smile on her face, she understood it.
Before the door closed, he heard her voice. This time, it rang out in a cheerful and remarkably conspicuous: “Oh! Good morning, Paul!”
Percy's step-dad opened his door a moment later. He didn’t see Annabeth behind him, and figured she’d run off to hide somewhere. Percy left the comforter turned down to show that he was definitely not naked.
Before Paul could say anything, Percy said, “I’m twenty-five!”
Paul tilted his head in confusion. “I know how old you are. I was going to ask you what you wanted with breakfast: sausage or bacon?”
“Bacon,” Percy said simply.
Paul started to close the door, and Percy buried his face in his hands. “And Percy?” Percy looked up. “We’re happy for you. She’s a great girl.”
Percy didn’t have the heart to tell him that, despite everything, Annabeth wasn’t his girl. He just muttered “thanks” and shooed Paul out. I need to move out, he thought as the door finally clicked shut.
~
Reviews for their first performance had been remarkable. Chiron had forwarded a number of them to Percy, Piper, and Annabeth, the subject line of his email was simply “!!!!!!” -- an uncharacteristically unprofessional email that had he and Annabeth grinning like fools while they watched Estelle in her dance class.
“They’re going to make you a principal for this,” Annabeth said, steady, unshakable confidence in her voice.
Percy tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help himself from asking: “Really?”
Annabeth nodded. “Just don’t drop me in these next three shows, and I bet you and Piper are principals by Summer.”
Piper had facetimed him then, her smile falling when she saw the two of them in one frame. “You two are hanging out without me?”
~
After her phone call with her dad, Fred Chase had apparently called Luke himself and threatened to call the police if he showed up at her apartment or the theater again.
“He listened to my dad,” Annabeth said to Percy before class started. “His usual tricks of sharing my nude photos to punish me wouldn’t exactly work the way he wanted,” she smirked.
“Are things better with your dad now?” Percy asked her.
She shrugged. “We had a long conversation about most things. He seems genuinely apologetic, and like he wants to really be in my life again. Honestly, I think your family scooping me up and taking me home was a wake up call for him.”
Percy smiled, glad he and his family could be that for her and her father. “I hope things improve between you two, really.”
“Maybe next time he’s in town, I’ll introduce the two of you more formally,” she suggested.
“I’d love that,” he said.
~
Their second show was five days later. It wasn’t quite as electric as the first, although it was just as technically sound and artistically beautiful. They both felt like they'd already made it over the most daunting hurdle, and now they just had to keep leaping over the smaller hurdles of the test of technique and stamina that the full-length ballet was. Their second show, the fifth scheduled show overall for the company, did end with rapturous applause, and a few more good reviews and social media comments.
Their third show had a few more errors than any of them would have liked. Nothing any audience member would have noticed, but quick changes to simpler steps or improvisations here and there to avoid a fall. Percy could feel his body starting to get tired of the demanding dance, and he felt worse for Annabeth and Piper, especially Annabeth, who far and away had the hardest job of any of them.
But it seemed like the part came so naturally to Annabeth that the physical demands of the ballet hardly touched her at all. She’d always been more classical in her style than most other Balanchine dancers. She was always first in line for parts like Juliet, the swans, or Diamonds.
But Aurora? He thought as he watched her that third night, a vision he was following across the stage in a blur of purple and blue lights and costumes, she seemed born to play Aurora. She’d never danced it before. New York hadn’t done a full-length Sleeping Beauty since Annabeth was in the corps. She hadn’t even understudied the role back then. As Percy watched her dance her Vision variation, (acting the part of the enraptured, besotted Prince in that moment was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life) it seemed almost comical that Chiron and everyone else hadn’t thought to put her in this role before.
He’d seen her do this variation maybe a hundred times now, but it never stopped dazzling him, the way she was able to time the gentle caress of her face with the slow lowering of her leg. Aurora wasn’t just a technical challenge, she was also a remarkable acting challenge. Odette and Odile were fun to play with, the differences between the two swans propelled the ballet forward. Juliet had a whole play’s worth of emotions to draw from. But Aurora was … well, asleep. There wasn’t much to work with there. But Annabeth found it. In her Vision dance, her body seemed to sing along to Tchicovsky’s score. Here I am, it said, I am ready to wake up. Beautiful and strong, she played to the corps, Piper, Percy, and the audience, telling them I am here, I am right here. I am ready, please help me. I want to wake up. So much has happened to me, and I am ready for it to end. I am ready to be a queen. I am ready to rule .
~
Percy knocked on Annabeth’s dressing room door about half an hour before the show started. She wasn’t in her costume yet, but her hair and makeup were done. This time, he’d asked Piper to give them some privacy.
“I just wanted to say merde in private,” he said.
Annabeth almost looked sad. So many weeks of work for only four nights. It was hard to say goodbye to it. She walked towards Percy and took his hands, holding them between their bodies.
“It’s our last show,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve really enjoyed dancing with you. I hope we keep dancing together.”
Percy, in a moment of fleeting confidence, pulled her hands up to his mouth and gently kissed her knuckles. “I promise we will.”
Annabeth reached a hand up to his face and stroked his cheek. He would have given up any chance at a principal promotion if he could just know what she was thinking in that moment. He didn’t dare ask her.
She pulled her hand away after a minute.
“I’ll see you out there,” she promised, stepping away from him.
“See you out there,” he said, walking out of the dressing room.
~
Their fourth show had gone, somehow, even better than the first.There had maybe been some mistakes and saves here and there, but their energy was up, and the audience was loving it. Percy fed off of audience responses, and this audience was not shy about offering applause and cheers.
Before Percy could even really process what a success act two had been, act three was starting. They were back at the Wedding pas, their last one together.
Annabeth went for her fish dives. She spun fast, and Percy caught her with one arm, and she dropped just as quickly. He heard audience members gasping, but before he could even bask in the response, Percy was pulling Annabeth back up and doing it again, and then again.
The fast-paced tempos of New York City Ballet were carrying them through, giving them the much needed energy to keep the ballet going right here at the end. Percy felt alive and full of joy. He was hardly even acting. When he looked at Annabeth, his face said it all -- I’m so happy to be here with you. Percy and the Prince felt like one in the same. Annabeth’s facial expressions were always dynamic, shifting with the music and story, but when she caught his gaze for their romantic moments, he could have sworn he saw the same thing. It wasn’t the artificial gaze of Aurora. No, Annabeth was just as happy to be there with him as he was to be with her.
The coda came on fast after her final variation. Percy jumped up for his triple tours, and then his pirouette . He made it around a clean five times while staying on the music. The audience erupted with applause as Annabeth came out on stage for her portion. She kept her arabesques small to stay on the quick music, but she hit every beat. When they met in the middle, Percy held onto her waist as they went one way and then the other. Annabeth was just holding on for dear life on this step, as he carried her back and forth as she bounced on one leg, and ballonné’d the other. Her smile was jubilant, completely radiant, as if she couldn’t help but show off just how happy she was.
As they finished the wedding scene, Percy suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotions. He wanted a fifth, six, seventh show. But as he took his final bow, he couldn’t do anything but smile.
~
At curtain call, he earned a standing ovation. He had gotten on the previous nights, but the final one brought tears to his eyes. Beckendorf would be healed by the Spring season and would likely take back his roles from Percy. Even if Percy earned a promotion, he was probably going to continue to do most of his partnering with Piper and Katie, as they had for the past three years or so.
But still, he tried not to dwell on the fact that the performances had ended. Instead, he forced himself to remember his successes. And Annabeth’s successes. They hadn’t just pulled it off, they had proven people wrong. When he remembered that, he broke out into a wide grin, and stepped to the side to allow Annabeth to come out for her final bow. He clapped and cheered for her along with the audience. He noticed that she was crying, and he hoped it was because she was happy.
When the curtain fell, people shuffled off the stage quickly, desperate to get out of their costumes and make up and to get water. There would be time for hugs and congratulations once they were all comfortable.
Percy noticed, though, that Annabeth wasn’t moving. She was looking around at the stage as the crew began moving set pieces off.
“Annabeth?” Percy said, walking up to her.
She looked at him, smiling at him. He thought for a moment that she was going to hug him again, but she did something more unexpected.
She kissed him.
Notes:
We at Gluten_Full do not condone violence, unless it is against your abusive ex, in which case, you do you girl.
And yeah, every single person at NYCB thinks Percy and Annabeth are dating. Everyone's like "Yeah, obviously they're dating. Are they trying to keep it a secret? They're doing a bad job of it if so"
The Wedding Scene from NYCB, so you can hear how fast the tempo is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiTFcYDxYXc
The Sleeping Beauty (Full): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDFlRq5RnbQ
Chapter 9: Agon
Summary:
Agon means "contest" in Ancient Greek. So, what are you competing for?
Notes:
This is what I consider the start of "act two" of the story.
This chapter is the last one I had to rewrite, which means remaining chapters will take longer to update. The draft of chapter 10 is just about done, but I want to finish a draft of chapter 11 before I post it. I will also be away next week, so it will be at least two, if not three weeks until the next chapter. Chapter 10 will be over 10,000 words though, so it will be a lot once it gets there.
So be sure to follow me on Tumblr at demigodsanswer.tumblr.com -- I post writing updates, snip-its, and I'm always taking asks if you want to chat about this fic or others. I've got so many headcanons for this fic that couldn't make it into the story proper.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Since he’d discovered ballet, Percy had been making fun of ballet pantomime. It had always seemed so goofy. How many times could a character gesture broadly as if to say: What should I do? Only for another one to circle their arms above their head, like they were putting a spell on the sky, telling the character: Well, sweetie, you’re in pointe shoes, so dance with them! Or his other favorite: What should I do? Go on, kiss her! And of course, every man in every ballet ever, scanning the stage, arms wide open asking Where did she go? Mere seconds after a woman has taken her exit.
But there he was, left standing on a stage, the woman he was just kissing, nowhere in sight.
The kiss had been immaculate, and far more than a simple, celebratory peck. It had lasted a few good seconds, with Annabeth’s hands on his face, and his arms around her waist. He’d pressed his hands into her back, and she pulled herself up onto her toes to deepen the kiss. He knew it had been a good, real kiss, because when they pulled away, they had a small audience of on-lookers, including a wide-eyed Piper.
But Annabeth had only pulled away, smiled, and left Percy standing on the stage, as confused as everyone watching him. He made eye contact with Piper before looking around for Annabeth, his arms still open where she had stood in them.
He gestured uselessly at the empty space in front of him, as if to ask: Where did she go?
Piper gestured off stage behind him. She wordlessly moved her hand in small circles. That way, go, and go fast!
Percy turned almost running backstage and up towards the stairs to the dressing room. He spotted her blonde hair and white tute.
“Annabeth!” He yelled towards her.
“Percy! The show was amazing,” she said, pausing where she stood on the steps, talking as Percy caught up to her. “Those were the performances of a lifetime, and I can’t believe they’re --”
She stopped talking as Percy cupped her face. She was a stair above him, making her about his height, if not a little taller.
“ Oh, ” she breathed, as her eyes fluttered closed. She leaned forward again and Percy met her. This kiss nearly exceeded the first one. It was much more desperate, and Percy felt Annabeth’s hands on his back pulling him closer.
But there was a stage full of people about to need those stairs. Their voices got louder as they started to leave the stage and head their way.
Annabeth pulled away, and ran a thumb over his mouth. “Lipstick,” she explained. “We should talk, before we do that again.”
“Was that okay?” Percy asked.
She sighed, smiling. “It was more than okay, it’s just my …” she gestured to her head, and Percy understood.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he promised. She turned to head to her dressing room before anyone but Piper could spot her even more messed up makeup. Percy, for his part, wiped at his mouth with the pack of his hand, and it did come back surprisingly pink.
~
Annabeth had invited a bunch of them over for a party. With The Sleeping Beauty finally behind them, and the second half of their Winter season looming large, they all decided they needed a day to eat, drink, and enjoy themselves. Annabeth had lit up at Piper’s suggestion, and volunteered her apartment.
But only days before it was set to happen, she called Percy in a near panic.
“How do you … host? A party?” She asked. “How much stuff do I need?”
Percy smiled, charmed to hear her flustered for once. “Let me put you on with my mom,” he said, before handing the phone over to Sally.
Percy had volunteered to help her set up. He’d done the shopping with her the day before, and went over to the apartment early to help her set up. For all their calm chatter, they avoided each other's eyes and touches.
Their kiss loomed heavy between them, the mother of all elephants in the smallest possible room.
Percy couldn’t figure out why.
He had no problem waiting for her just a little longer.
But days had gone by, and she still hadn’t talked to him about it, or kissed him again.
“Annabeth,” he started. She turned from where she was arranging a charcuterie board for the party. Her yellow dress reminded Percy so much of the lead woman in Carousel, a ballet they were both doing later in the season, but not together. He thought it would be perfect for them. If he was in charge of the casting, it would have been a no-brainer. The pas de deux the leads did was romantic, tragic, modern, but with classical touches. Perfect.
“Yeah?”
He stepped closer to her. He tried to get the words can we talk about us? Out of his mouth, but his ability to think had abandoned him. There was only her.
His hand slid up the side of her face, until his fingers reached her curls, down and carefully styled -- a welcome change from buns and french twists.
“You look beautiful,” he said. Her eyes lit up as she smiled. “Can I kiss you?” He asked. She nodded and leaned up to meet him. She hummed into the kiss, pulling him closer and tighter.
But she pulled away sooner than Percy had hoped.
“Can we talk after the party?” She asked. Percy nodded. “I do like you, Percy,” she promised him.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I know. I like you too.”
She smirked. “Well, I’d hope so.”
~
The party carried on, and Annabeth beamed to have so many people in her apartment, complimenting her on the event, The Sleeping Beauty, and her new single life.
“It looks like it’s really working for you,” Lee Fletcher had told her.
Percy nursed his glass of wine and watched her dazzle the room.
“Luke never liked having people over,” she told him when they had gone grocery shopping the day before. “Never wanted to host a party or even have a double date.” She loaded a few bottles of wine into the cart. “I owe your mom an Edible Arrangement or something I think,” she said, checking off a few boxes on the list.
“She’s so happy to have a girl around who’s not ten,” Percy said. “She’d do anything for you.”
The smile that lit up her face had hardly fallen for a moment in the last twenty-four hours.
“Annabeth certainly hosts a classy party,” Beckendorf said, walking up to Percy.
“Yeah,” he said, dreamy eyed, his mind still on their most recent kiss, “she’s so happy.”
“I heard you two kissed,” Beckendorf said.
Percy froze, surprised Annabeth had shared that with him already. “She told you?”
Beckendord chuckled. “She didn’t need to tell me, half the company saw you. You were literally on a stage.”
Percy flushed. “Right,” he said.
Beck leaned on one crutch, lifting an eyebrow. “Have you two --”
“Piper is here!” Percy said a little too loudly as Piper walked in, fashionably late, with a well-dressed Jason.
“I know I’m your favorite, but keep it in your pants, Jackson,” Piper said, leaning in for a hug.
Before he could really understand what was happening, Jason pulled him in for a hug too, before handing off the bottle of wine they’d brought with them. “Good to see you, Jason,” Percy said.
~
The apartment was warm and full of life. The stress of the season melted away, and they were able to just enjoy themselves.
“And I can see into the wings at least two ballet masters just look horrified! And I know they’re regretting letting a nineteen year-old and twenty-one year-old lead the ballet,” Beckendorf said to Lee’s husband, Pollux, the only person in the room who’d never heard the story of the infamous Romeo and Juliet drop.
“What about you, Annabeth?” Pollux asked.
“I was dead, I couldn’t see anything!” The room laughed with her, and she seemed to light up.
A few minutes later, they made it to the end. “And so Chiron goes -- actually, Annabeth has the better Chiron impersonation, you do it.”
Annabeth sat up straight, and made her face look very stern, like you were about to be yelled at. Somehow, no matter how nice Chiron actually was, that was always how he looked. “I like it, keep it in.”
Percy couldn’t tell if people were laughing at the story or her impersonation, but either way, she was smiling. He caught Silena’s eye from across the room.
She looks so happy, Silena mouthed to him. Percy just smiled and nodded. I’m happy for you, she mouthed.
As the party went on, he watched Annabeth enjoy a few glasses of wine, unencumbered by her relationship or the pressure of the show. Her skin had a light pink flush to it, and she laughed so easily Percy wished he could bottle the sound. If anyone noticed the way the two of them moved closer and closer together throughout the night, they were too polite to say anything.
Finally, when the last guests were leaving, Piper caught his eye as he lingered behind Annabeth. You coming? She seemed to ask. “I’ll catch up,” he lied.
Piper looked at Annabeth, a knowing look on her face. “Have fun, keep him in one piece,” she said, before Jason grabbed her arm and dragged her away. Annabeth giggled as she closed the door.
She leaned against the closed door, eyes fixed on him. “You wanted to talk?” He asked, stepping closer to her.
He heard her breath out as her eyes fluttered closed. When she opened them a second later, she smiled, and just said, “Later.”
Annabeth grabbed fistfulls of his shirt and pulled him in closer.
There was no restraint in this kiss. Percy was so used to her rising up on her toes to meet him that he was nearly thrown off as he was pulled down to her. But he found his footing fast. One arm made its way around her waist, as the other went around her shoulders, a hand creeping into her hair. She’d put her hair up at some point, but Percy tore it down, tangling his fingers in it, as she used his shirt to steer them towards the table, their mouths pressed together, their kisses hungry and desperate as she moved backwards gracefully.
When Percy felt Annabeth’s legs hit the table, he lifted her up -- it was no challenge for him -- and sat her down. He stepped into the V of her legs, and she leaned back, pulling her down on top of him. The table was still covered in now-empty serving trays and cocktail glasses that they did their best to avoid.
But they couldn’t all be avoided. Percy tried to brace a hand on the table, but his fingers met the delicate stem of a wine glass, and sent it toppling over the edge. Percy pulled up first, hoping to save it, only to watch it fall and shatter.
Annabeth yelped at the noise, and rolled over, away from him, her face towards the table, her arm up to shield herself. As he heard her breathing get shallower, but faster, a panicked pace, his blood started to boil as he realized just how many times glasses had been thrown her way and shattered dangerously close to her. But he pushed down his rage, leaning close to her.
“Annabeth, it’s okay,” he shuffled away, trying not to step on any glass with his bare feet. “It’s just me, he’s not here.” Annabeth grabbed his hand and squeezed tight.
“I’m sorry,” she said through her breathing.
“It’s okay,” he promised, holding her hand back. “Take your time. Just … stay on the table. Let me find a broom …” she pointed to a small closet off the kitchen, her eyes shut tight as she gently shook her head, as if trying to shake the panic out through her ears.
“Could you talk?” Annabeth asked, her voice wavering. “About anything?”
Percy nodded as he grabbed the broom, trying to think of a story he hadn’t told her yet.
“When I started dancing at the Y, one of my best friends was this girl named Bianca. She had this little brother, a few years younger than her. And this kid wanted to dance so bad, but his parents just never took him seriously. Well, once he saw there was a boy in Bianca’s dance class, he pointed at me, and this little four-foot tall nine-year-old demanded to be put in class.” He was pretty sure he’d gotten all the pieces of glass into the dustpan. “That was the first dancer I ever inspired.”
“What happened to him and Bianca?” Annabeth asked, her breathing more steady.
Percy shrugged. “Their mom died, and they moved South with their dad. I never heard from her again.”
“Did you ever look her up? Or the boy?”
“Can I tell you something embarrassing?” Annabeth nodded. “I cannot, for the life of me, remember their last name. I don’t even know the boy’s first name.”
Annabeth almost laughed. “You said she was your best friend!”
“She was! At ballet at least. But those were the last of the Gabe days. Honestly, I don’t remember a lot from that time.” He stood up and dumped the glass in the trash.
“Does this … sort of thing ever happen to you?” She asked, still sitting on the table.
“It used to. In the early days of my mom and Paul’s relationship, he was watching the Yankee game at our apartment. My mom made the same dip she’d always made for Gabe, and I think it set me on edge. When Paul cheered a little too loud at a play, I came running. I think I thought I was gonna protect my mom.” He shrugged. “There was nothing to protect her from. She saw in my eyes why I’d come running, though. She just looked so … angry and sad at the same time.”
“Was it like the way you looked at me just now?” Annabeth asked.
Percy just nodded. “Probably.”
She started to stand, but Percy scooped her up, bridal style. “Hey!” she said, almost laughing.
“We should vacuum before you step on the floor there.”
“You’re stepping on it.”
“Your feet are more important than mine.” He sat her down on the couch. She leaned forward to the coffee table, where her glass of red wine still was. She took a measured sip.
“That sort of thing is why things between us haven’t … gone farther,” she said.
“You don’t need to --”
“If I’m going to keep kissing you, then yes, you deserve an explanation.” Her voice was strong, and her gaze was set looking forward, determined to speak as she rested her forearms on her knees. “I have feelings for you, Percy, feelings that I don’t think I’ve ever had before, for anyone. It’s driving me crazy, how badly I want you. I mean, from that first pas it’s been … you’ve been all I could think about. It’s distracting, really.”
Percy’s mind spun, but his chest puffed with a little bit of pride. Her feelings for him had been made clear enough, but that? He tried to tell her that he’d been the same way, and that his affection went all the way back to “Diamonds,” but he couldn’t get the words out before she continued.
“And I see how you look at me,” she closed her eyes and sighed, “like I am the only person in the world. It means everything to me, really. But I am so afraid. I want to be with you, but I can’t stop worrying that I’m just going to ruin it.” She spoke with a measured care that suggested she’d rehearsed this speech with herself.
“You can’t --” he started to say.
Her head snapped to face him. “I can!” She buried her face in her hands, that measured calm all but gone. “I am jealous, and mean, and people don’t like me, I don’t have friends. I’m emotionally unstable. I mean … I’m not a person worth looking at like that. And sooner or later, you’re going to figure that out.”
He stared at her, and she looked back. His heart ached to hear her say those things.
“There it is again,” she said, “that angry and sad look. See I told you that --”
“You think I’m angry and sad at you? Annabeth,” he took her hand, “who told you that you were jealous, and mean, and didn’t have friends?”
She sat up straighter, like they both knew the answer, but she was too proud to admit she might be believing the wrong person.
“I didn’t need to be told it, okay, I know that it’s true. I’ve seen it enough.”
“You had fifteen people in here tonight, all of them adore you and consider themselves your friends,” he pointed out.
She slumped back against the couch, shutting her eyes tight. When she opened them again, she said, in that rehearsed, careful tone, “You are so important to me, Percy. You mean more to me than my own brothers, as awful as that sounds, but it’s true. And I would rather spend a lifetime as your friend than take this further and ruin it in only a few months.”
Percy stared at her. “Why would it be ruined in a few months?” He asked.
“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be in an adult relationship. The only relationship I ever had started when I was sixteen, and I don’t think he ever really treated me like I was older than that,” her voice softened, “and I don’t think I ever stopped acting like it. I don’t know what boundaries are, let alone how to set them. I don’t know how to have a fight that doesn’t end with glasses smashed and me in tears. I don’t know how to throw a cocktail party, for Christ’s sake!”
“So we figure it out together,” Percy said calmly. “I haven’t had a lot of adult relationships either. I mean, c’mon, I still live with my mom. We started working so young we feel behind, but you’re only twenty-six. We don’t need to know everything right now. We just need to trust each other to work things out as they come.”
“But that’s the problem, I can’t trust myself.” She ran her hands over her face, her mascara wet with tears, smearing under her eyes. “Luke took a lot of things from me. But the worst was the way he warped my sense of reality. He told me that the way I felt my feelings were wrong, or that when I was angry at him, that was actually cruel to him. He made me doubt everything I felt. He reimagined memories we shared to make me look like the bad guy until I started to wonder if I really did just remember it wrong.” Percy held her hand, squeezing it tight as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “I still can’t really trust myself, or my feelings. I know what I want,” she looked at him pointedly, “but I don’t know if it’s good for me.” She kept her eyes on him. “And you look at me like I am holding up the sky. And I can’t help but feel like I don’t deserve that look, and I could never deserve it.”
He shook his head. “It’s not something you have to earn. And it’s not something you could easily take away from me,” he said. “Annabeth, in two months you’ve become one of my best friends. There is nothing you could do to easily ruin that. Even if we dated and it didn’t work out, I’m sure we’d find a way to make it go down easy.”
“I don’t know what to do,” she said, covering her face again.
“We can do whatever we want,” Percy said. He pulled her hands away from her face, holding them in his. He lifted them and pressed a kiss into the top of her hand. “Can you breathe with me?” He asked. Annabeth nodded, and they sat there, taking a few deep breaths together. “Feel better?” Percy asked.
Annabeth nodded. “I’m just so afraid all the time,” she said. “It’s like my body and mind are in completely different places. My mind is so terrified, and overthinking, and making all these plans, imaging scenarios that will never happen. But my body, my heart, it’s just saying ‘just kiss him. Get over it, and just kiss him.’ And a few times now I’ve forgotten to be afraid, but it,” she glanced towards the kitchen where the glass had broken, “has a way of reminding me it’s still there.”
Percy wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled him into her side.
“You don’t need to rush anything for me. I’ll be here,” he said.
“I don’t want you to have to wait for me, Percy. I’m not …” she trailed off, but Percy suspected she was going to say worth it.
“You are. I’m not going out with anyone anyway. And if the most talented, beautiful woman in the world wants me, but just needs a little more time to heal, then I can wait,” he said.
“You’re being hyperbolic now,” she said, almost laughing as she snuggled into his side more. She shifted a little to tuck her feet up onto the couch.
“I’m not. You can ask my friend Grover. He’s had to hear about how talented and beautiful you are every day since ‘Diamonds,’” Percy said.
“Since ‘Diamonds’?”
“Honestly probably earlier, but yeah. Since ‘Diamonds.’ So, trust me, I can wait,” Percy said.
“I think I had a big, fat crush on you during ‘Diamonds’ too. I mean, I could not stop staring at your eyes. They are just the most remarkable shade of green,” she said. Percy smiled and kissed the top of her head. She held his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Luke must have noticed because he was so jealous of you.” Percy remembered the story, the accidental role they’d played in her breakup.
“What were some of your other favorite things about me, besides my eyes,” Percy teased.
“Well, you are my age, for starters.”
Percy laughed. “I’m a year younger than you, technically.”
Annabeth gasped dramatically, leaning her head back to look up at him. “And the cycle of abuse continues!”
Percy laughed, but she kept looking up at him. She untangled their fingers and rested a hand on his face, pulling him down, just for one quick peck.
“I want to keep feeling this way,” she said. She didn't explain, but Percy felt comfortable and content, the way he always did with her, like being next to her was the most natural place to be.
“If you still need time, then how about we wait until the season is over?” Percy suggested. “We’ll see how we both feel then. It’s all out on the table between us now, anyway. We’ll just wait until we don’t have ballet to distract us, and then take things slow.”
She nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
“No matter what you decide, I will always be your friend, Annabeth.”
~
Percy had been surprised to find himself cast in four different ballets, meaning he’d be on at least once, if not twice every night, all with different partners. He was dancing Flower Festival with Katie, and, yet another Opus 19 with another principal girl who, to his disappointment, wasn’t Annabeth. He and Annabeth were both in Carousel, but different casts. He and Annabeth had only been cast as partners in Agon, a short neo-classical ballet with no clear story. The characters, if it could be said to have any, were entirely up to dancers’ discretion.
“You know why they did that, right?” Annabeth asked when Percy expressed surprise at the number of roles he’d been given.
“To work me to death?” He guessed.
“They want to see which girls you look good with, for when you start dancing more parts,” she said.
Neither Percy nor Piper’s principal contracts had materialized at the end of the run of The Sleeping Beauty like everyone thought they would. No new principals had been announced yet.
Annabeth still believed the both of them were due for it.
~
“ Agon means ‘contest’ in Ancient Greek,” Mr. D reminded them. “So, what are you competing for?”
Percy looked at Annabeth, like I hold up the sky, she’d said. Percy didn’t need to dig deep to find something to compete for. Annabeth grabbed his hand, and Mr. D cued in the pianist. They began again, and Percy couldn’t tell if he was winning or losing.
He and Annabeth had started rehearsing Agon towards the end of their Sleeping Beauty rehearsals, and now that the beast was behind them, the second half of the season loomed large.
“Keep your eyes on each other,” Mr. D told them, “keep the tension throughout.” He walked over to them and re-demonstrated how exactly he wanted them to move. “This dance is a series of challenges. If I go here,” he did one of Annabeth’s steps, “will you follow?” He did one of Percy’s steps.
They repeated the steps themselves. Annabeth looked back to him – the challenge. Will you follow? Percy stepped forward, close behind her.
Agon pushed their balance and flexibility to their limits, especially for Annabeth, as the two of them performed moves together that were more like a circus act than a ballet. And that was its appeal. The Sleeping Beauty had certainly tested their technical strength, especially Annabeth’s, but Agon tested the limits of the human body itself; the contest, it seemed, was between Percy’s muscles and the choreography.
He and Annabeth, though, didn’t need any help from Balanchine’s work of choreographed madness or Stravinsky’s unsettling string to appear in tense, silent competition with each other. That they carried off all on their own.
For all his reassurances that things could never go badly between them, it seemed like they didn’t know how to be around one another now that everything was out in front of them. Some days, they were glued together, so close to forfeiting their agreement to wait a month and just dragging the other into a broom closet. And then other days they were as distant as ever. They were like mosquitos stuck in amber, trapped in a specific moment, not moving forward with each other.
Today, he felt the distance. Percy was kneeling in front of her, his arms extended. Hers were extended as well, their fingers laced to hold onto one another. As he knelt, she went on pointe, the supporting leg slightly bent, one leg raising, extending straight up in between their arms. Percy felt the muscles in his arms working to hold her steady. As the leg came down, he started to stand, until her ankle landed on his shoulder, and her supporting leg straightened. When Percy was fully standing, her leg was still on his shoulder.
Their eyes met. It was a moment to act, to build the tension between them, but it was already palpable. Percy waited for Annabeth to push off from his hand, turning them both towards the back of the room, her leg still on his shoulder, rotating to second, as both of their arms went up, elongated over their heads, their inside hands still laced together, holding each other up. Percy started to walk, slowly moving them both back to face the front, but Annabeth’s character remained in control, as she seemed to pull him in closer by the top of her foot.
If I go here, will you follow? Her character seemed to say, as she turned her back to him, but reached a hand over her head for Percy to take. Percy followed.
~
Agon wasn’t perfectly suited to either of them. They could both do it just fine, but if Percy were to bet on it, he’d bet Chiron wanted to challenge them. As if Sleeping Beauty hadn’t been enough of a challenge.
But while Sleeping Beauty was a technical feat, especially for Annabeth, it did highlight their strengths. Annabeth was New York’s classical specialist. She worked great in long ballets. Her adagio work was perfect. And she was first and foremost a proper artist. Percy liked fast dances where he could get them, but most of all, he liked something he could act. He particularly enjoyed partnering and acting out a story with someone else.
Agon, though, was slow, which suited Annabeth, but neo-classical, which suited Percy. It didn’t have much of a story for either of them to work with, but it seemed to bring all of their unresolved feelings to the front, distracting both of them.
Percy was dancing Carousel with Helen, another principal girl who was an older but legendary dancer with the company, the only woman in the company who, in Percy’s opinion, really outshined Annabeth. The two of them looked great together, and Percy felt incredibly lucky to be able to dance with one of the greatest living dancers. But …
“I thought Chiron would have put you with Annabeth for this one,” she said to him before rehearsal started. Her smile was kind and knowing, assuring Percy it wasn’t a slight against him, just recognition of where Percy would rather be, and who he’d rather be with.
“Me too,” he said.
Carousel’s pas de deuxs had all the push-and-pull tension of Agon, but was much more romantic and tragic, as the man reaches out for the woman over, and over, pulling her in as she pulls away, until finally, they reconnect and move synchronously. It was a newer ballet, but artistic, slow but told a story. Romantic and tense. Percy caught himself grinding his teeth every time Annabeth left their rehearsal to head to Carousel without him, or he left without her.
The ballets rotated programs and casts. Usually on the program, Percy either did Flower Festival as the second ballet of the night, or he ended the first half with Agon, and then he was done for the night, white Annabeth usually went on to close the program in Carousel. The next night, Percy would open the second half with Opus then end it with Carousel, while Annabeth opened the first half with Serenade or did the Tchaikovsky piece in the second half. But almost always, Percy could count on Annabeth going on for Carousel after they did Agon.
He’d never even watched her dance it from the wings.
He’d never caught her waiting in the wings to watch him in Carousel either.
~
“Do you think we’re lovers?” Annabeth asked during lunch.
Percy looked up from his salad. “What?”
“In Agon , do you think we’re lovers?”
Percy thought for a moment. The two had to be in some kind of relationship; maybe the relationship was changing. Maybe it was new and growing and scary, or maybe it was old and challenging in other ways.
“There’s certainly an intimacy there,” Percy answered her. “I think they're either lovers or maybe they were almost-lovers.”
Annabeth nodded. “And the ending?”
“What about it?”
“Do you think there’s a winner?” Her gray eyes were wide with curiosity for his answer.
“I don’t think there’s a winner,” he told her, “I think they either resolved the issue, or they gave up.”
Annabeth pushed some food around on her plate. “That makes sense. Which do you think it was?”
“I don’t know,” Percy admitted, “but I hope they didn’t give up.”
“Me too.”
~
They moved through the choreography, learning each spin, note, and circus act step that Stravinsky and Balanchine had dared to imagine. It was just them – the raw movements, the dancers, the choreography, and the music. The music dictated the movements, and the movements told the story of the choreography. That was Percy’s favorite part of dance: to feel himself as part of the music, an extension and expression of it. The dancers and the dance were both in perfect balance with each other. They had to be; Balanchine, from beyond the grave, was forcing them into such precarious positions that one unbalanced step risked total collapse.
The legs and hips moved ahead of the torso in most movements. Percy helped Annabeth balance on one leg as she wrapped her other leg around his shoulder and neck. He dropped her down into a split, and then lifted her up quickly. He pressed her into the air as she spread her legs in a straddle. It was modern, radical, and seductive. They pushed and pulled away from each other. He followed her around the stage, either lifting her up or getting pulled by her. He thought about Mr. D’s first question to them: what are you competing for?
Percy stood in front of Annabeth, both of them sweaty and trying not to breathe too hard as they moved into the most technically challenging move of the dance. Small wisps of her curly blonde hair were pressed onto her forehead with sweat, her cheeks were pink, and her leotard was dotted with sweat patches. Percy knew he looked about the same, thanks to the full-length mirrors inherent to a ballet studio.
Percy held her hand, as she went into a penche , a standing split, while still on pointe. While Percy held her hand to keep her balanced, he quickly dropped to the floor and onto his back, all the while helping Annabeth stay balanced. If he wasn’t aware of her balance, or if he was too close or too far from her, she would drop. It made Annabeth’s balances in The Sleeping Beauty look like child’s play.
Percy dropped on his back, but he was too far forward. He let go of her hand to keep from pulling her forward onto her face, and she dropped out of her balance. Mr. D had the pianist cut the music, and they ran the move again.
Annabeth stayed balanced the second time, but barely. They were still off and keeping her up while he went down depended on their strength entirely, not their balance. Percy felt her push her hand into his, as she tried to keep herself balanced. His arm muscles strained, as he watched her muscles strain in return, the heel of her palm digging into his, her calf and ab muscles flexing as they tried to hold her up despite the circumstances. If they were on stage, they would have counted it a success, considering that Annabeth had stayed on pointe. In the rehearsal room, though, their struggle didn’t go unnoticed, and they ran it again, and again, and again, until Percy could find Annabeth’s balance in his sleep.
~
There was nothing terribly special about Percy’s debut in Agon. It came and went without any of the fanfare of The Sleeping Beauty. For their first handful of performances, they danced it well, the contest between them, Percy thought, was perceptible. They were good actors, and maybe lovers.
At the end of the ballet, Annabeth draped her body over Percy’s, as the music came to its expected but abrupt stop. I hope they don’t give up, Percy thought.
“Great work,” Annabeth said as they left the stage after their fifth or so performance.
“Thanks, you too,” he said. They started walking back towards the dressing rooms together in silence, offering a friendly merde to any dancer they passed. Percy was done for the night, but Annabeth had Carousel at the end of the show.
“Have you figured out the ending yet?” She asked him.
Percy shrugged. “I think the woman is in total control. Whatever she does, whatever she wants, he’ll follow her.”
Her costume for Agon was just a brown leotard; he could see her chest move up and down with every breath.
“I don’t think she wants to give up,” she said.
“So they won’t.”
They made it to the door of her dressing room. As they stood there, not saying anything, Piper slipped out, dressed for Opus 19.
“It’s all yours,” she said to Annabeth, or maybe both of them.
“I need to get changed,” Annabeth said quietly. Percy just nodded. Before he could walk away, she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. “What went wrong?”
“The dance was per --”
“I don’t mean Agon. I told you I’d ruin it, but I … I don’t know what I did,” Annabeth said, her voice at a whisper.
There was a soft vulnerability to her gaze, and Percy didn’t know what to say, so he just wrapped his arms around her. Their skin was sweaty, but neither cared. “Nothing,” he said. “All my feelings are the same.”
Annabeth nodded against his shoulder. “Mine too. Even the inconvenient ones.”
Percy pulled back, smirking a little. “Do you mean the fear, or the wanting me so bad it’s a distraction?”
She pulled herself out of his arms, smiling finally. “Jerk,” Before walking in closer again, keeping her voice low. “I meant the fear that’s keeping me from acting on the other one.”
“There’s no need to rush anything,” Percy reassured her, “and you aren’t ruining anything. We’re just …”
“Waiting for the fear to get smaller?” Annabeth offered.
“Yeah.”
They stood in a content silence for a moment, before Annabeth turned away from him. “I need to get changed. Will you watch Carousel tonight?” She asked.
“If you want me to,” Percy said.
“I do.”
~
Honestly, a slip up on stage felt inevitable. That absolute circus act of a balance with Percy on his back couldn’t go perfect forever.
It was his fault really. She was maybe a little off, but he could have helped her adjust. He didn’t. And he jumped the gun on going down to the floor. He was too close to her, and when he went down, there was no saving it. Annabeth was strong enough to just roll down off pointe, as if that was the choreography all along. Her back leg didn’t drop as she did, and she held firm to his hand. But he could see it in her eyes, that disappointment at their screw up.
That disappointment drove the tension for the rest of the pas. Percy was dancing as if he had something to apologize for (he did, he figured), and she danced like she didn’t want to hear it. When she draped her body over his in the end, for the first time, he felt like the lovers maybe did give up in the end.
When they walked off after bows, Percy turned, about to apologize, when Mr. D ran up to them. Percy expected him to yell at them for the screw up, but all he said was: “Peter, where were you?”
“On the stage,” Percy said, gesturing to his costume and sweaty face. “Do you think my name is Peter?”
“Ethan had to go home. Can you do Opus?” He didn’t answer Percy’s question about his name. Percy decided to let it go.
“Yeah, obviously. When?”
“Right now,” Mr. D said. Agon closed the first half, Opus opened the second half. They had a twenty minute intermission.
“Who am I dancing with?” He asked.
“Piper.”
Percy thought for a second. He’d never danced it with Piper, but he’d danced with her enough, and they trusted each other. It was the best of a bad situation. And it didn’t seem like they had anyone else to go on.
“Yeah, that’ll be fine, I’ll go change,” he said. He started off towards the dressing room, only then realizing that Annabeth was still standing there, quiet and not following him, or offering him a comforting merde.
If I go here, Percy thought, taking a step towards the dressing rooms, will you follow? Annabeth turned towards her own dressing room and left him to Opus.
~
“Oh thank god it’s you,” Piper said in the wings. They had five minutes before the show started. Percy started on his own with the corps. He tried to calm his breathing. There was always something so thrilling about being thrown on. He chased it, really, agreeing and volunteering for every last minute replacement or stand in he could.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked.
“Better, now that they found you,” she said. “Ethan has pinkeye.”
Percy felt his face scrunch up in confusion. “What kind of grown man gets pinkeye?”
“That’s what I said! He claims a drop of subway water landed in his eye, but I’ve never heard of someone getting pinkeye from that.”
“No, subway water is good for you. My mom used to mix a little into my bottles when I was a baby,” Percy said.
“Huh, I always assumed you were one of those kids who got breastfed until you were seven.”
Percy shoved her. “Focus. Any moves you want to run before we get out there?”
They stepped onto stage, the curtain still down, and ran a few of the lifts and other partnered moves until everyone was called for places. Percy stood still and waited for the rush of wind that came when the curtain lifted.
~
Opus was in his bones. And even though his legs felt dead from leading three ballets in one night, this ballet always felt right. He’d complained a little when he’d been cast again, but he couldn’t hide his delight when Silena handed him the familiar all-white consume.
Like Flower Festival, he hardly ever left the stage during Opus, so by the end, he was winded, had no energy left in his legs, and he was desperate for a sip of water. But as he went to the wings, he found Annabeth, her hair in the ponytail for Carousel and in the yellow-orange dress that fit her so well, and he thought, I could do one more.
“Amazing,” she said to him when he walked up to her.
He rested his hands on her waist, and she widened her eyes at the public intimacy of it, but smiled and let him continue.
“We should be doing Carousel together,” he said.
“Want me to kick Chris in the shins until he needs to go home?” She joked.
“Maybe,” he shrugged. She just laughed. “I’m sorry about Agon,” he said.
She looked confused for a moment. “The balance?” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it Percy. It was bound to happen. I went up wrong anyway. It just didn’t work tonight.”
“You looked so … sad,” he said.
“I’m a control freak, I never like when I do something wrong. But I wasn’t mad at you. We’ll just do it better tomorrow.”
“Promise?” He said. She held up her pinky. He did the same, and they swore.
“Are you gonna watch Carousel?” She asked.
Percy looked towards the stage. There was a short Tchaikovsky piece, just the pas de deux from Piano Concerto #2, between Opus and Carousel. They were running out of time before Annabeth was needed.
“I would, but I need to sit down,” he confessed.
Annabeth pouted. “But I thought you were ready to go out there and dance it with me?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” he offered.
Annabeth smiled that wide, bright, beautiful smile that made him want to pull her up for a kiss. He held back for the sake of her makeup, and kissed the top of the head instead.
“ Merde,” he said, before turning and almost walking right into Piper, who was staring at both of them. A few company members turned away quickly, he noticed, not wanting to get caught staring.
“You two are gross,” she said. She pulled Percy away from the wings before he could distract Annabeth any more.
~
The next day, Percy was warming up alone in a studio, waiting for Annabeth and a ballet master to join them for Agon rehearsal. There was still half an hour before they started, and Percy was trying to enjoy the peace and quiet, but only found himself longing for Annabeth to join him.
Finally the door opened, and she stepped in alone. “I’m glad you’re here already,” she said.
Annabeth walked over to the speaker and fiddled with something as Percy got off the floor, curious.
“What are you --”
“The Carousel pas,” she said, taking position. “You promised we’d dance it.”
Percy didn’t debate that he’d meant on the stage, and took his place as well.
He was right, they were perfect for it. The music was light and romantic, and it seemed to carry them, to float them through the room as they moved in sync. They were perfect.
Percy held out his hand, and she rested her face in it, a tender touch, as she spun closer until … she moved under his arm. There was a charm, a flirtation in her look. If I go here, she seemed to ask, will you follow?
Of course, Percy’s gaze read back as he pursued her. They circled each other before Percy held his arms out wide, and she jumped into them.
He could see them in the mirror. They were moving too fast, and his attention was too focused on her to simply stare and appreciate it. But when his eyes caught their blur of motion in the mirror, he saw something perfect. Fast, but romantic, modern, but not too modern. They just … soared together.
He lifted her again, and when she came down, she slid to one knee, her other leg extended in front of her, and her arm reaching for him. He leaned down to kiss her, as choreographed.
Stage kisses were never romantic. You and your partner were always sweaty, and the focus wasn’t so much on the kiss as it was on counting beats to know when to restart the dance. And this kiss was meant to be quick.
But Percy and Annabeth weren’t on a stage, and he never started counting. She stopped caring about her hand placement, moving her hand from the choreographed spot on the back of his neck into his curls. He leaned down more as the music went on and they missed their cue.
Annabeth leaned backwards, until her back was against the floor. Percy went with her, leaning forward, maintaining and deepening the kiss as hovered above her. The rest of the world was a blur and the music was just a distant melody.
Somewhere, his common sense whispered, not the time, not the place. He pulled back. “We’re going to get caught,” he said.
She just smiled. “You don’t have to keep me a secret,” she said, her fingers gently grazing his face.
Percy almost groaned, and he leaned down to kiss her again. “You’re not making this easy for me,” he complained as their lips met again.
“I’m never going to make this easy for you,” Annabeth promised through the kiss, “get used to it.”
Annabeth pressed one more long, tender kiss to his lips before she started to sit up. “But you’re probably right. Do you think that’s …”
“Why we didn’t get cast together? Maybe,” Percy laughed as he got off of her. He stood on slightly wobbly legs as he went to pause the music.
“We said at the end of the season,” Annabeth said, standing, hands behind her head to adjust her crushed and unraveling French twist.
Percy shrugged. “What’s one week?”
Now, with both of them on their feet, Annabeth leaned up, pulling him down again.
When they parted, he tucked a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “Can I take you out to dinner?”
“Yes, but I think it will need to wait a week. We’ve got shows,” she reminded him.
“Then let me buy you lunch?”
Two hours later, they were enjoying huge Sweet Green salads, naming everything they were going to eat once the season was over.
“I will pay your mother to make me a batch of cookies all to myself,” Annabeth said.
“I’ll tell her to get baking.”
When they made it back to Lincoln Center, Annabeth gave him one more quick peck. They’d agreed over lunch to try and keep kissing out of the workplace, except when choreography called for it. But they weren’t quite in the workplace yet.
“This has been the best first date I’ve ever been on,” she said.
Percy gasped dramatically. “But Luke set such a high standard.”
She bumped their shoulders together as she laughed.
They had to go in different directions to their next rehearsal, and he watched her go down the hall, keeping his eyes on her until she turned the corner. He touched his face, and realized he hadn’t stopped smiling in hours, and his cheeks were starting to hurt.
~
Percy spent the brief break between rehearsals and when he had to start getting ready enjoying the last few minutes of sunshine. Annabeth was trapped indoors prepping more pointe shoes, so he left her to it.
He felt his phone start to vibrate. When he looked, it wasn’t a number he had saved. The caller ID told him it was from Miami, FL. He figured it was spam, and nearly let it go, before he remembered that he’d never bothered to save Jason’s number. He wondered what Jason could need that Piper couldn’t call him about. Or, probably, it was Piper. She always let her phone get to 3% before charging it, and it was dead just as often as it was charged.
“Hello?” He said.
“Is this Percy Jackson?” An unfamiliar woman’s voice asked him.
“Yes,” he said.
“This is Lupa Lopez from Miami City Ballet.”
“Oh, hi Ms. Lopez.” He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d turned down her company contract eight years ago.
“I was in New York a few weeks ago and caught your Sleeping Beauty. Great work.”
“Thanks.”
“I was calling to see if you'd like to come to Miami for a month and guest in our Winter Season?”
Notes:
Annabeth: Please God, just let me have one good day?
God: Oh my -- you again? Give it a rest sweetie, it's never going to happen!The real reason Percy hasn't been promoted:
Chiron: I'm thinking of promoting Percy Jackson. What do you think?
Mr. D: I don't know who he is.
Chiron: You're right. He seems to still be finding himself as a dancer. Who do you think we should promote?
Mr. D: Peter Johnson seems well overdue for it.
Chiron: haha Peter Johnson. You have a strange sense of humor.Also apologies to anyone who has had pinkeye as an adult. I just needed a reason for Ethan to not be able to perform, and that was the funniest possible thing I could think of
Agon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PET9WRBy2y8&t=1378s
Agon Pas: start video at 16:30
Carousel (at least the part described): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvdeXTtUahY
Flower Festival: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0McIcOt6WPM
Serenade: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xd9R9S6-9E4
Chapter 10: Tarantella
Notes:
This chapter flashes back and forward between the present day and Percy's first year dancing. CONTENT WARNING: these scenes include Gabe, meaning there are moments of physical violence as well as verbal abuse, including some homophobia, and the use of "queer" as a slur.
Moments in the past are marked by ~~, scenes with physical abuse start with ~*~. Scenes in the present day start with ~
I've kept necessary plot information out of scenes with abuse, so you can skip them if you need to and not miss story beats.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~~
The cold New York air seeped through the brick walls of the old YMCA gym. The barres were already set up when he walked in, his gym shorts on, and his pink hand-me-down ballet slippers in an old orange drawstring bag from his summer camp[. He sat down on the outside of a group of girls who were changing their shoes. In his first class three days ago, Percy had noticed he was the only boy there. He tried not to let that bother him. It was either try ballet or go home to Gabe.
Miss Hestia was already in the room. She was a young, pretty woman with dark hair and a constant smile on her face. She let them all pick what ballet music they wanted to use for class. The girls all voted on some Disney soundtrack music, and she popped the CD into the player.
He hadn’t really tried last class. At least, not at first. He didn’t know what a “ton do” or “pleeyay” was, and he didn’t put in much of an effort into following the teacher. But Miss Hestia seemed to notice him falling behind. Percy braced himself to be singled out the way he usually was when teachers saw him struggling. Some were well-meaning, some were just mean.
But Miss Hestia simply slowed down the class. She gave more careful instructions to the group, reminding them all to turn out from their hips, and explaining what the funny French words meant in English.
“Plié means ‘bent,’ so, when we plié, we keep our back straight, that tailbone goes right down towards the floor, and then we bend our knees. We want those knees going out to the side, tracking over our feet and ankles” she started to bend to show them, “and keep those heels on the ground as long as you can. Okay! Let’s try!”
She had them do four pliés in first position, which Percy had figured out meant his heels together, his feet pointing in opposite directions.
“Great work, Percy,” she said, coming over to him. “Try to keep that arm up a little more.” she tapped the underside of his elbow. “Can you feel your arm working?” Percy couldn’t exactly, but he tried to focus his thoughts on his arm, he kept his elbow up, and actually tried to hold his arm steady. And then, yeah, he felt it a little. Percy nodded to her. “Great! We always want our arms working. It helps you balance. And strong arms will be important when you start working with partners.”
Percy didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d probably never work with a partner, and that he was just there until the basketball coach forgot that he’d hit another player in the face last week.
When they paused to stretch, Miss Hestia pulled him aside as the girls put their legs up on the barre. “Here,” she said, pulling out a bucket of old shoes , “let's try to find a pair that fits.” They were all pink, but it wasn’t everyday a teacher tried to actually help him, so Percy swallowed his pride. He gave her his shoe size, and after a little digging, she found a pair that might work.
“They might be a little big,” she said, “but you’re probably still growing.” Percy nodded. At least, he hoped he was still growing. Most girls in his classes at school were still taller than him.
And most of the girls in his ballet class were also taller than him. Everyone was between ten and twelve, but most of the girls had been dancing for a little while, it seemed. They had no issue keeping up with the combinations the way Percy did.
Now, as he took his spot at barre in his second ever ballet class, Percy decided he was actually going to try this time, to really try and follow along. He got the pliés down, and even the first tendu combination.
“ Tendu means ‘to stretch,’ so we really want to stretch that foot as we point. Push those toes into the floor until your foot is all the way out in front of you, then point as hard as you can,” Miss Hestia said. Percy followed the instructions. Miss Hestia smiled as she watched him. “Really nice, Percy. You’ve got a good turn out. Keep leading with the heel,” she said. Percy actually smiled. Teachers, not even coaches really, ever told him he was doing something right. To be fair to the teachers, he usually was doing it all wrong, but maybe he could do a tendu.
The next combination was from fifth. Percy had practiced his positions in the few days between classes. He’d even gone to the library and checked out some old book with illustrations on how to do them. He knew fifth. He crossed his feet. His left hand was on the barre, so he knew that meant his right foot was in front.
“We’re going to do tendu to plié ,” Miss Hestia danced the combination as she gave it, and Percy followed, trying to remember it. “ Tendu to straight legs, and then pas de cheval,” her lower leg made some kind of circle before pointing out in front of her, “ en croix, which means ‘in the shape of a cross.’ So we’re going to do it to the front, to the side, to the back, and then to the side again. When you go out to the side, make sure you change sides. Plié to the back, come in straight to the front, then pas de cheval comes in to the back, so then you’re ready to start back.”
“What’s pada chaval?” Percy whispered to the girl in front of him. She had long dark hair and pale skin. She’d said “hi” to him when he walked in, and even spoke to him a little before class. He remembered her name, Bianca. He was pretty sure she was nice.
She turned to try and show him, but she still moved a little too quickly for Percy’s brain to fully grasp what was supposed to do.
“Nice work Bianca!” Miss Hestia said. “Can you show everyone how to do the pas de cheval?”
Bianca did it again. Miss Hestia clapped, and everyone joined in for a brief applause.
“Yes, great work. Pas de cheval means ‘step of the horse,’ because horses go like this,” Miss Hestia dragged her foot on the floor the way Percy had seen police horses and Central Park carriage horses do. “You pull your foot up to your ankle, we call this coupé, then we bring it out in front of us and present the foot. Everyone try that,” she said.
Percy did, and Miss Hestia smiled and nodded at him. “Great work everyone. Now, sometimes, pas de cheval goes right to the floor,” she did it again, resting her toes on the floor, “ and sometimes, it stays off the floor,” she moved her leg again, hovering her foot in the air. “We are going to do it on the floor, but don’t use it as a kickstand. No weight on those front toes, keep all the work on your standing side. Are we ready?”
Percy nodded, fixed his fifth position, held out his arm, really focusing on keeping it steady and in the right spot, and started on cue. Front, side, back, side. When he was finished, felt like he’d done a pretty good job.
~
Percy had traveled for ballet plenty of times. He’d done some tours with NYCB, not counting their brief summer season upstate, and he’d gigged at a few different regional ballets around the country to make some extra money on breaks. But he’d never left for a month with another company.
Annabeth, for her part, was trying to be supportive. She’d made a list of everything he’d need to pack, and had even asked Jason at lunch the other day about Miami weather and what Percy could expect from the company.
“Lupa is great,” he said, “she really tries to establish loyalty and trust with her dancers.”
“Well then, I have to ask, what made you leave?” Percy asked.
Jason shrugged. “I needed a change. I’d been training with them and dancing with them since I was a child. I wanted something different.”
He felt Annabeth grab his hand under the table. “Well, thankfully there’s no getting tired of New York,” Percy said.
Now, she was sitting on his bed the night before his flight, folding dance clothes, a few more formal options, and some casual street-wear.
“Any idea what she’ll have you dancing?” Annabeth asked.
Percy smiled. “Yeah, she emailed me today. She hasn’t paired me with anyone yet, but she’s thinking Tarantella and Slaughter on Tenth Ave.” Lupa had sent him some recordings to study. There wasn’t much time for him to learn choreography before he’d take to the stage. But he was pretty sure he’d watched the old video of Patricia McBride and Edward Villela dancing Tarantella so many times in his life that he’d already memorized it.
Percy had nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw Tarantella as an option. Chiron hadn’t put that in a season in years , and it was one of the only ballets Percy truly, desperately wanted to dance enough that he’d asked Chrion about it. Chiron had only shrugged and said “maybe next year.” Slaughter was another fun one. It was a heels ballet, so no point shoes for the ladies, but a Balanchine classic. They were both huge leaps away from Sleeping Beauty and Agon.
“Chiron tried to rehearse me in Tarantella when I was eighteen,” Annabeth said, grimacing, “I was not cast.”
“You didn’t like it?” Percy asked.
“I couldn’t do it. I looked horrible,” she said, dropping a pair of shorts into his suitcase. “It was for the best anyway. I was still in the corps, so anytime I got a lead or solo role, other corps and soloist girls … well, they looked about ready to rip my head off.”
Percy looked at her sympathetically, before shifting the mood. “It must be so hard being one of the best dancers in the world,” he teased, tucking some hair behind her ear.
She put on an exaggerated, dramatic pout. “You have no idea,” she said, before Percy leaned down to kiss her again.
“I’m sorry the timing of this visit is so …” horrible, awful, inconvenient, he started after breaking the kiss.
Annabeth just shrugged, trying to look chill and not at all disappointed about it. “What’s one more month?” She asked. “Just, promise me you won’t hook up with any hot Miami girls while you’re there?”
“As long as you don’t hook up with any hot New Yorkers,” he said.
Annabeth nodded. “And you’ll forgive me if I don’t send you any nudes to keep you company while you’re away?” Her tone was light, and it made Percy happy to see her able to joke about it, even a little.
“Of course,” he said, before kissing her again. They hadn’t discussed it, but it seemed implicit between them both that they weren’t going to label whatever they were or even just sleep together until Percy got back. But they kept creeping up to that line. His hand slipped under her tee shirt, finding the warm skin of her side, as she pulled him on the bed by his hair. As Percy’s hand crept up higher, he started to think maybe they would cross it. Sure, what was one more month, but why wait?
“Percy, Annabeth, dinner is ready!” Sally yelled from down the hall.
They nearly jumped apart, as if they’d been caught. Right, Percy thought, that was why.
Annabeth was laughing when Percy rolled off of her.
“I feel like a teenager again,” Percy complained.
Annabeth was smiling wide, her cheeks flush from the kiss. “I don’t,” she said. Percy rolled over and kissed her again.
~~
Miss Hestia had given him one of her CDs. They were piano melodies from The Nutcracker, and on the inside, she’d left a note for which tracks would be best for what kinds of combinations. On days he didn’t have ballet, Percy came home, enjoyed the two hours he usually had before Gabe arrived, and used the back on the couch as the barre.
Hold up your arm, tailbone straight to the floor, lead with your heel, he reminded himself. Turn out from the thighs, keep your ribs in, and don’t forget to breathe. There was a lot to remember to even just stand the right way in ballet, but it gave his brain enough to keep him occupied.
In school, he found himself improving his posture in class. He worked to keep his shoulders down, ribs in, tailbone tucked even as he sat. As he practice tendu ’s under the desk, he found himself actually listening to his teachers, the way he always listened to Miss Hestia. His history class actually started to get pretty interesting.
When he was done practicing, he cleared out any evidence of ballet from the living room, tucking the CD and shoes under his mattress where Gabe couldn’t find them and ruin them. And then he actually opened his book and tried to do his homework.
He’d only been dancing for about a month, but he carried the counts around with him in his head. When his textbooks got too boring, he stood up and practiced his petite allegro -- small and fast, he remembered. It was his second favorite part, right behind grande allegro -- big and fast. Those were the big jumps where they really got to travel across the floor. He didn’t do that at home, worried about the downstairs neighbors, but he figured a glissade wouldn’t annoy anyone.
Miss Hestia was really impressed with his progress. She told him that he was already caught up to most of the other girls. Every class he felt like he left with something new to work on -- some new step to practice or something in his technique to improve. But he didn’t feel like a failure, the way he did when he got an F or a D. He felt excited to go home and work on it.
On his way out after class that Monday, the basketball coach spotted him. “Percy, will you be joining us in the Spring?” he asked.
Percy shook his head. “I’m busy,” he told him.
~
Jason warned Percy that Miami was going to be hot, even in March, but Percy wasn’t quite prepared for it anyway. He stripped off his jacket and sweatshirt before he even stepped out of the airport. He felt the hot, humid gust of wind blow in through the sliding doors at baggage claim, and started sweating right then.
Lupa had sent another dancer to pick him up, some guy named Frank. Percy Googled him while he was waiting for his bag. Another soloist, in a few Facebook photos with Jason, and a handful of other people recognized.
His friend Rachel from SAB was still in the company. He hadn’t messaged her when he heard from Lupa, not sure if she remembered him or cared to talk to him since he’d stayed in New York. She was a principal now, though, and when Percy saw the news of her promotion two years ago, he couldn’t stop the jealous feeling that maybe that’d’ve been him too, if he’d gone with Miami instead.
Frank was easy enough to talk to, and he didn’t hesitate to share some insider knowledge with Percy. “I’d guess she’s gonna see how you dance with Rachel, Reyna, and Gwen,” he said, “Jason danced with them a lot.”
“And be honest, do you think I’m here so Lupa can get her revenge on Chiron for Jason?” Percy asked.
“Honestly,” he said, pausing, carefully considering his next words, “no. I mean, Jason going to New York might have given her the idea, but she’s not spiteful like that. But Lupa does always get what she wants.” Percy didn’t ask what he meant by that.
~~
Percy was hastily shoving his CD and shoes under his mattress when the door opened and Gabe yelled, “Hey brainiac! Get out here, the school called.”
Percy felt his heart rate go up, and a familiar anger bubble to the surface. He had no idea what they could have called about. He hadn’t been in any fights. He hadn’t even dozed off in class.
“What?” Percy asked, stepping out of his room.
“Your history teacher called, said you cheated on her test,” Gabe said. No matter how much Sally and Percy told the school to call her, they always seemed to reach Gabe first.
“I didn’t!” Percy said. He hadn’t. He’d just paid attention in class and studied a little last night. The test was on World War I. It was actually pretty interesting once he got into it.
“She said you got a B. You’ve never done that well before,” Gabe said.
“What kind of idiot cheats only to get a B?” Percy asked. It wasn’t like he’d never cheated, but whenever he did, he was clever enough to at least get an A-.
“You, idiot.”
“I didn’t --!” Percy yelled, but Gabe grabbed his arm hard.
“You want to keep taking your little dance classes? Then I’d better stop getting calls from the school in the middle of my day.” Gabe let him go without much more of a fight. Percy just sent himself to his room and laid on the bed, too dejected to dance or study, or do much more than just lay there, wishing he was somewhere else.
When his mom got home hours later, smelling like the candy store, she let herself into his room with a quiet knock. “Percy, can you tell me what happened?”
Percy sat up. “I didn’t cheat!” He said. “I studied. I actually studied. And I tried really, really hard,” he ran over to his backpack and showed her his notebook. His handwriting was awful, and his spelling was worse, but there were notes from his textbook and from the teacher’s lesson. “See! I tried.”
Sally looked at him, her brown eyes wide and sorry for him. She rested a hand on his cheek. I believe you,” she said. “I’m proud of you for working so hard. I’ll call the school tomorrow and try to meet with your teacher,” she promised.
Sally did, and the teacher finally agreed to give Percy the B that he earned. But she never seemed to ever really trust Percy, and whatever interest he’d developed in her history lessons disappeared. His B slipped to a C, before just hanging out at a D for the rest of the year.
~
Miami’s studios had high ceilings and wide open windows that let the natural sunlight pour in. It kept the space warm, but Percy kept on his layers of warmups for class, not wanting to risk hurting himself on his first day in a new place. He let himself sweat, enjoying the natural heat and sunlight that he hadn’t gotten in New York in months.
He looked around class, scanning for familiar faces, but the class was so huge, he was only able to find Frank (who had kindly stayed next to him at barre), and Reyna. She was a little older than Annabth, and she was another ballet phenomenon. He’d never met her personally, but she seemed to get as much attention as a rising star to watch as Annabeth did. She, like Annabeth, had become a principal in her early twenties. She seemed to be pulling Jason up through the ranks with her with every dance they did together, only for Jason to leave abruptly for New York. With her long graceful lines and carefully concentrated face, Percy could see the intense resemblance to Annabeth already.
After class, a few people lingered to introduce themselves to Percy. Percy had met the ballet masters before class, and had already met with Lupa earlier in the morning. Now it was time to meet with the company.
Reyna walked over first, introducing herself. Percy shook her hand.
“And how’s our Jason?” She asked.
Percy gave an honest report that he was doing well, and seemed to be enjoying New York. She almost seemed annoyed to hear it.
Percy’s gaze fell on the younger man standing a few steps behind her. There was something about him that seemed eerily familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The man had a haunted look to him already, with his pale skin, but dark brown eyes and hair that both looked black. Something in Percy’s mind itched, trying to remember where he’d seen him before.
“Do I know you?” Percy asked.
“Do you?” The man asked back, smirking as if you say you do, but you’ll need to figure it out.
“The cryptic one is my brother,” a voice said. Percy turned and saw Hazel Levesque. Percy politely didn’t ask are you sure about that?
“I do know you,” he said.
“Nice to see you again, Percy,” she said, leaning in for a hug, which Percy accepted.
“You too.”
They met last winter in New York. She had been on tour with Alvin Ailey, doing Revelations across the country. Beckendorf had been on the same tour. When the show finally rolled through New York, Percy went to see it. It was nice to actually just sit and watch a ballet for once. Hazel stood out, not least of all because, despite being a bit short, she stood tall, with long arms and legs. During “Wade in the Water,” the dance where Becknedorf was the male lead, she was the dancer holding up the umbrella. It made her easy to spot.
Percy remembered her asking a lot of questions about life in New York, and he was able to figure out that she was thinking about joining Alvin Ailey permanently. But when the tour was over, she headed back to Miami and stayed. And, he remembered, got promoted. She’d made ballet news as Miami’s youngest ever principal at twenty-two (beating out Reyna’s record by a few months) and their youngest ever and their first Black lead in Swan Lake soon after.
“Percy Jackson!” A loud voice yelled from across the room. Percy turned and found the mess of red hair he’d been looking for all class.
“Rachel!” She ran towards him, pulling him into a tight hug. ”I was looking for you in class,” he said.
“I had PT then a pointe shoe emergency,” she explained. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Rachel told us you abandoned her,” Reyna said.
“That’s not what I said --” Rachel said back, her freckled face flushing. “I said he got an apprenticeship and I didn’t, so he stayed in New York. Nico talks about Percy way more than I do.”
“Hey!” The spooky one complained. Nico, Percy thought. Do I know a Nico ?
“He and his sister used to dance with you,” Rachel said, only further embarrassing Nico.
“Your sister?” Percy asked, still trying to place him. He looked at Hazel, 100% sure he’d never danced with her before.
“I’m his half sister,” she gestured to herself and laughed, “obviously. His full sister runs the pointe shoe room,” Hazel said. “Bianca,” she added, hoping that name jogged something in his memory.
“Bianca?” Percy said. “From New York?” He looked at Nico, and finally saw the nine-year-old who’d followed him around for months and months. “You’re Bianca’s little brother?” Percy tried to square the memory of the loud, geeky kid who followed him around the YMCA with this Jack Skellington-type, but mostly his mind raced with excitement to see Bianca again.
Nico nodded. “And she bet you wouldn’t remember her.”
Percy turned to Frank and asked, “Where’s your pointe shoe room?”
Hazel and Frank walked him down. The pointe shoe room was similar to the one in New York. It resembled a mail room, except the only mail were brand new pairs of shoes still in plastic. Men got their slippers supplied as well, but they lasted so much longer than pointe shoes that Percy rarely had reason to go down to it.
“Bianca! Are you in here?” Hazel called out.
“Be right there!” A familiar voice called from behind the wall of pointe shoe cubbies. “I think your new custom shoes just came in, but I’m still digging --”
Bianca’s eyes landed on Percy. She looked exactly like he remembered her -- older of course, but with the same long dark hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. The same as her brother.
“Funny meeting you here,” he said.
“He does remember you, but he had no idea who Nico was,” Hazel said, before wandering off with Frank to some other part of the small room.
Percy held his arms open, and Bianca accepted the hug. “I can’t believe you remember me, I mean, I’ve been following your career since I found out you were in City Ballet. That’s just so incredible, Percy,” she said.
Percy smiled and shrugged. “Miss Hestia’s classes were the most important ones I ever took. I remember them really well,” he said.
“Do you still talk to her?”
“Oh yeah, she comes to all my premieres. She’s still teaching too. Here,” he pulled out his phone, “we should send her a picture.” They snapped a quickie selfie. “I’ll send it to her later,” Percy promised. He was about to ask her about her life, her job, her … everything, but Hazel interrupted.
“Sorry, but we’ve gotta get him up to rehearsal before Lupa tears us apart,” Hazel said.
“I’ll be here all month,” Percy said, “we should get coffee?
Bianca nodded.
He’d only been in Miami for a few hours, and the brand new city and brand new company already felt so incredibly familiar. As he walked back up with Hazel and Frank, he passed half a dozen dancers he knew from SAB. They all smiled, happy to see him.
~~
Miss Hestia had let Percy join the pointe class without charging him, because she thought it would help him get stronger faster. He wasn’t in pointe shoes, just doing the exercises on flat, while the girls learned how to work through the shoes. Bianca looked so happy when she’d come in with her pair. She showed them off to Percy, explaining the different parts of the shoe, and how they had fit her at the dance store.
But today Percy’s head and heart weren’t in it. His mom had gone to the school that morning to talk to his history teacher, but the sting of the cheating accusation was still getting to him. What was the point in trying if no one actually believed he was capable of more than his lowest effort?
“Percy, try bringing your opposite shoulder just a little forward on this balance, it will help,” Miss Hestia suggested. He did what he was told, and it did help, but he didn’t care very much.
At the end of the class, she stopped him before he could run out the door. “Percy, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Percy nodded and started over to her, walking as slowly as possible to put off the inevitable conversation. I’m disappointed. You need to try harder. Or even the I don’t think this is the right place for you.
“Yeah?” He asked.
She just looked at her gaze soft and worried. “What’s wrong Percy? You don’t seem like yourself today,” she said.
Percy shrugged. “It’s school,” he told her, “I got a B on a test.”
“A B is a very good grade to get. Why is it a problem?” She asked.
“I don’t usually get Bs,” he said.
“Well, I’m sure one B won’t bring your grade down too much. And it’s only middle school --”
“You don’t understand!” Percy yelled, his anger exploding out of him, “I don’t ever get Bs! I don’t get Cs, even. I get Ds and Fs! But I tried, I actually tried this time, and my stupid teacher called my stupid step-dad and told him I must have cheated. Because they all think I’m some stupid failure! And my step-dad said if I cheat again he’ll --” Percy felt tears well up in his eyes, so instead of talking he just turned and kicked the cabinet where Miss Hestia kept all her CDs. He felt bad about it right away, not just because his toes hurt.
“Percy,” she rested a hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay. Can you take a deep breath with me.” He nodded, his vision still blurry. He followed along with her breathing, but stopped to wipe at his eyes when tears started to fall against his will. She just handed him a tissue. “It’s okay,” she promised him.
“Your stepfather did what?” She asked, when Percy’s anger had faded a bit.
“He told me that I wouldn’t be allowed to dance anymore if I kept getting in trouble. But how am I supposed to do good in school if everyone thinks I’m a liar when I try?”
Miss Hestia looked at him the way his mom did, like she saw all the injustice he had to put up with and wished she could stop it.
“That’s not fair, what your teacher said to you. She owes you an apology,” Miss Hestia said. Percy stared at her. He was used to his mom saying things like that to him, but he figured she only did it because she was his mom. He’d never heard another adult say another adult was wrong. “It’s worth trying, Percy. You are a smart kid.” No adult had ever said that to him before, not even his mom. “And your stepfather can’t take dance away from you. He might be able to stop you from coming to class, but dance isn’t just a class. It’s something that you do. Everyone can dance,” she said.
She knelt down and opened the cabinet he’d kicked.
“Sorry about kicking that,” he said sheepishly.
“I accept your apology, and I forgive you,” she said, digging through stacks of CDs. “Have you ever heard of Nina Simone?”
Percy nodded. His mom had a few of her records, and sometimes they played her on the classics radio station.
“She described freedom as a feeling. It’s not something you can explain, it’s just something that you feel. And you know it when you feel it, like love. She said she only ever felt truly free a few times, on stage while she was performing,” Miss Hesita said. She pushed the CD in the player and skipped a few tracks. “I want you to dance however you want. You can do ballet if you want, or you can freestyle. Just move. There are no rules.”
The song started. Percy started to move. He felt a little silly at first. The music didn’t fit the ballet technique he’d learned. It seemed to want him to move less rigidly. He started to shake, wiggle, and shuffle his feet across the floor, getting less self conscious with every beat. Nina Simone was listing all the things she didn’t have. No home, no shoes, no money, no class. Percy could relate. With Gabe there, his apartment was no home. He didn’t have shoes of his own for dance class; he was still stuck in the pink ones. He didn’t have money, and his family hardly had any. No class? Well!
He started to smile. The music made him want to keep moving, and moving made him want to move more. Finally, Nina Simone started to list the things she did have. Percy didn’t even laugh when she mentioned boobies and sex. He just kept dancing. He didn’t care how his body moved, he only knew it felt good. He could feel the music, but he didn’t need to count the beats, he just seemed to know them deep in his soul. He knew how he needed to move and when. He wasn’t facing the mirror. He had no idea if he looked good. He just knew he felt good.
He can’t take this away from you, Percy thought, this is yours.
~
Lupa clarified a few steps for him and Hazel, and then had them redo the entrance to Tarantella.
Tarantella didn’t have a lot of partnering. There weren’t lifts; mostly it was a competition between the boy and girl. The Tarantella was an Italian folk dance -- “It was supposed to cure you if you got bit by a tarantula” Nico explained -- but Balanchine had turned it into a quick wild ballet that had all the technique of ballet, but all the fun and energy of a peasant dance.
As he and Hazel ran through the first few minutes of the song, Lupa watched them carefully. Percy tried not to pay attention to her gaze. They invited you here, he reminded himself, you have nothing to prove.
“I’m going to stop you there,” Lupe said when they finished the pirouette competition. “Really nice work, but I want to see Percy do it with Rachel.” Hazel nodded. “Take a breather Percy. Rachel, can we run that diagonal again?”
Percy took long deep breaths and drank some water, trying to bring his heart rate down to a manageable pace as Rachel did a series of light, airy turns across the floor. Lupa gave her some tips to keep her going in the right direction. “You’re not spotting fast enough,” she told her. Rachel nodded and tried it again. “Keep thinking up, not out, if you go out, you’ll fall right over.” Percy tried to internalize that advice for himself. Anything that was useful to another dancer was useful to him.
“Are you two ready?” Lupa asked.
Percy walked over to Rachel, and they took the starting position.
Dancing with Rachel was something else entirely. She brought an immediate energy to it. It wasn’t that Hazel didn’t have energy, grace, or talent. She had all of those in excess. But Rachel brought a certain liveliness to it. She let her technique be a little imperfect for the sake of the Italian peasant character she portrayed. She flirted with Percy shamelessly as well, giving him something to play off of as they danced. Percy found himself having true fun with it.
He grabbed the tambourine prop, and she grabbed hers. Trying to manage an object as you spun and jumped added an extra layer and additional challenge.
His solo was first. He had some footwork, where he really tried to shake his body as if he were trying to get venom to work its way out of his system. Then he had six big jumps. He tried to get as much air as he could, kicking his legs up in front of him, hitting the tambourine when he reached his peak height, trying to time it just right with the music. When he landed the sixth jump, it was right back into footwork, with pas de chaval s and ballonnés back and forth. He reached his arms out to the audience, which was just Lupa and a ballet master, as if inviting them to join the dance.
As his solo came to an end, he let himself play to his character just a little more. He ran in the choreographed circle, his arms out to the side in second, and he let his fingers and hands shake just a little in time with the music, before he ran off for his exit.
His next entrance had more spins and jumps. He did a manège around the stage, jete and jete and jete and jete, before finishing opposite to where he needed to exit. He beat his tamborine a few more times, before letting the music carry him off, his back bent backwards, one arm up in the air shaking the tambourine as he ran off in time for Rachel to make her entrance. He heard Lupa laugh slightly, and when he looked at her, she almost seemed charmed.
If there was one thing Percy knew how to do by now, it was how to be charming.
When he and Rachel took the center together for her long series of pirouettes from fifth, Percy had to keep time on his tambourine. He opened his arms to the audience, a wide smile on his face, as if to say, come on! Look at this! The other dancers in the room, and even Lupa started to clap in time with his tambourine.
As they made their final exit, Percy grabbed Rachel’s arm, pulled her in close, and planted a big kiss on her cheek, and as she ran off, he tossed his tambourine in the air, catching it in his hand, as he leaned back and shook his arms above his head in triumph and celebration, before leaving. But as the tambourine landed in his hand, several of the little metal disks clinked out, landing on the floor.
Lupa was smiling. “You broke it!” She said, “that must be a good sign.” Percy liked her optimism.
Rachel walked over, about to say something to him, but instead, her eyes focused on his hand. “You’re bleeding,” she said, grabbing his hand. It was just a small cut where he’d caught the tambourine, nothing serious. He pressed his shirt into it to stop the bleeding.
“The things I sacrifice for my art,” he said. Rachel smiled.
“I have bandaids,” she said.
Lupa looked at them. “Nice work you two, take a break, patch Percy up. Chiron will have my head if I send his dancer back broken. Hazel,” Hazel’s head popped up from where she’d been stretching, “lets see you try it with Frank.”
Hazel and Frank smiled and made their way to the starting position.
Immediately, there was something different in Hazel’s dancing. That energy he hadn’t felt was there. The dance was inspired. She had a small frame, but she captured everyone's attention with her fast and expressive dancing.
Frank brought something a little different than Percy did. His peasant boy wasn’t so boisterous, but he had all the frantic energy. It was a little more nervous, more excited about being near the girl. Not quite the competitive bravado Percy had channeled. Percy liked it. He thought it worked for both of them.
“They never get to dance together,” Rachel whispered. That made sense. Frank was noticeably taller than her, even when she was on pointe. “They thought they might get cast together here because there’s not too much traditional partnering.”
Ah, Percy thought, Hazel had thrown her dance with him, then, to try to get cast with Frank . Percy had to say, their height difference kind of worked for this dance. They looked cute together, and Hazel’s confidence made her seem that much taller, while Frank’s anxiety seemed to shrink him.
“Are they …” Percy whispered.
Rachel nodded. “Oh yeah, since she came back from New York last year.”
Percy smiled, glad then, for Frank, that Hazel hadn’t stayed in New York.
~~
When the phone rang at dinner time, Percy panicked. That was never a good sign. It usually meant a teacher needed to talk to his mom, and he was about to get in trouble. But he hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t been in any fights. All of his grades were Cs -- higher than usual, but not so much teachers could accuse him of cheating. He gripped his fork and started to mash his baked potato as his mom stood to answer the phone.
“What did you do this time?” Gabe asked him.
“Nothing,” Percy said.
“It’s never nothing with you. Remember what I told you about your little fairy lessons,” Gabe said.
“It’s ballet,” Percy reminded him.
“It’s queer,” Gabe spit.
Percy just clenched his jaw and kept smashing his potato. He knew what queer meant. Word had gotten out around school about his hobby, and he heard that and other words plenty. He tried not to let it get to him. He liked ballet, and he didn’t see a problem with being gay even if he was. And if Gabe didn’t like it? What was he going to do? Hit him? Percy rolled his eyes. There was nothing Gabe could do to him he hadn’t done before, and nothing he could take from Percy that was worth keeping.
He heard his mom on the phone. “That’s great, no really, that’s so great to hear. He’ll be so happy. Yes, if you could. That would be so helpful. Thank you, yes, I’ll be in touch.”
He heard the receiver click, and his mom walked back in, a big smile. “Percy, that was Miss Hestia. She says you’re doing really well in your dance classes.” Percy actually smiled. He didn’t care that Gabe was there, forcing laughter. “She said she thinks you could really pursue dance if you trained a little more.”
“What do you mean?” Percy asked. He’d been dancing for six months. He’d improved a lot, but he didn’t think of himself as good.
“She thinks you’re a great dancer and strong student. She says, if you think you might like a professional career or to dance in college, you should start training more,” Sally explained.
“I’m already taking all of Miss Hestia’s classes,” Percy said.
“That’s the thing,” Sally said, “she thinks you should go to a more advanced, more professional training program.”
“She … she doesn’t want to teach me anymore?” Percy asked.
Gabe scoffed. “I’ve had enough of this,” he said, leaving his plate on the table, but taking his beer to the living room.
Sally stood up and knelt next to Percy. “That’s not it at all, sweetie. She thinks you’re already more advanced than her classes can really accommodate. She’s a recreation program, not a pre-professional program. She thinks you could get into a good pre-professional school, somewhere with more boys, where they could give you the training you’d need.”
Percy ran the idea through his head. It would mean more dancing, more moves, new teachers and new people. It would be scary, probably. He’d only been dancing for six months. He’d never be able to keep up with boys who’d been dancing for a long time. But if Miss Hestia thought he could do it … He imagined himself on stage, what it might feel like to actually be a pro. He’d watched the PBS Broadcast of the New York City Ballet Nutcracker that winter, the old one with the kid from Home Alone in it. His neighbor had even recorded it on her TiVo for him, and she let him go over to watch after school. He could be that man, the cavalier with Sugar Plum. If he just worked a little more, maybe he’d be able to do it.
Percy started to say yes, and then he remembered how much Gabe had yelled when Sally had brought him home a new pair of ballet slippers. Slippers weren’t even that expensive, but Gabe didn’t like it. Percy needed them, though. His toe had broken through the pink ones and his feet had completely outgrown them. If Gabe thought they didn’t have the money for those, he’d never say they had the money for a better dance school.
“No,” Percy said, “it’s okay. I don’t want to keep dancing.”
Sally rested a hand on his knee. “Percy, look at me. You are a great dancer, and I know it makes you happy. If you want to do this, then we will figure it out. Miss Hestia knows some scholarships you might be able to win. There are some competitions you can win, some things you can apply for … we will make this happen.”
“Gabe won’t like it,” Percy said.
“Let me handle him, alright. You don’t need to worry about him.”
Percy ended up getting a last-minute spot in a smaller competition in the city. The top two winners would get some scholarship money, and some local schools were going to be there, offering admission to anyone they liked. But Percy needed the admission and the money.
He only had a month to learn his variation. Miss Hestia had picked something from Flames of Paris for him. It was all jumps and spins, his favorites.
“You’ve gotten longer,” she said. He had. He’d gone through a growth spurt and grown at least three inches in the past six months. “Use that length. On those arabesques, never let the energy stop. Energy out, out, out through those fingertips and back through the toes.”
To practice at home, he snuck down to the laundry room in the basement so he didn’t bother the neighbors with his jumps. Petite allegro apparently made more noise than he thought, and the downstairs neighbors had complained to his mom. There wasn’t a lot of space, but he had just enough room to do two grande jetes and his a la second turns. He started building a small audience of neighbors who recognized him, and would wait to collect their laundry until his music had finished. They even clapped for him. He had to say, he liked the feeling of people seeing him dance.
The stage was in a small auditorium. Nothing terribly fancy. And the audience was all other performers and their parents and coaches.
“The most important thing is to have fun, okay,” Miss Hestia told him before he went on. “There will always be more performances, so don’t worry about winning. Just dance like you always do.” Percy nodded.
He went out on stage, gave his vision a moment to adjust to the lights, and then exploded into a dance. No one needed to know he’d never danced on a stage before, he realized, or even that he didn’t know the rest of Flames of Paris. All they needed to know was that he knew how to jump high and keep his chest up as he landed, and that he could spin around three times before landing in the right spot.
Miss Hestia gave him double high fives when he left the stage. “You were excellent,” she said.
He was more nervous at the awards ceremony than anything else. They announced the honorable mentions, and he hadn’t gotten one. Then third place. Not him. When he didn’t even get second, he started to feel really low.
“And first prize,” the judge said, “goes to Percy Jackson, Flames of Paris .”
When Percy stood up, his legs were shaking. He walked over and got his medal, and shook the judges hand. He could hear his mother cheering in the crowd, louder than all the rest of them.
~
Slaughter on Tenth Ave gave Percy a chance to brush up on his tap work.
It was fun to be in a ballet where technique wasn’t paramount. He didn’t need to turn out, or help a ballerina stay in a balance on pointe. He just had to look like some 1920s hoofer and sell a story to the audience.
He started rehearsing the role with Reyna, and hadn’t switched partners since their first run. Reyna wasn’t in pointe shoes for this one, just heels. She also didn’t need to worry about technique much. All of her work was in kicking her legs up high, and flipping her hair around.
Percy wrapped an arm around her back, and Reyna leaned back in a deep, deep dip, her hair brushing the floor. Percy supported her in this back bend as she kicked one leg up straight in the air. When it came down, they moved across the stage just a bit, before the other one came up. He walked her across the stage like that, with each leg kicking straight up.
When their rehearsal ended, Reyna wasted no time sliding into a split and leaning forward, her forehead resting against her right thigh.
“Staying warm enough backstage to do all those kicks is the hardest part of this role,” she said.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Percy said, starting his own stretches. “You can really get your leg up.”
Reyna smiled. “I was trained by a Russian ballet teacher, an old Vaganova dancer, before joining Miami’s school,” she said, “and there was no slouching in her classes.”
That made sense, Percy thought. Reyna had an insane flat turn out and could extend her leg all the way up, so that her shin was to her ear.
“You didn’t want to keep up with the Russian training?” Percy asked.
“I wanted to, but my dad wouldn’t let me move to Russia. My family is from Miami, so this is where I stayed,” she said. She switched her split to the other side, leaning forward towards her left leg now. “I like Lupa. Of all the American directors, she’s … well, the most Russian in her intensity, let’s say. It works for me,” she leaned back towards her right leg. “Burned Jason out, though.”
“What do you mean?” Percy asked.
“Chiron is more ‘chill,’” she said, putting air quotes around chill. “That’s what he told me when he decided to stay in New York.”
“Well, it’s not like Chiron lets his dancers off easy,” Percy said, defending his company.
Reyna shifted into a low lunge and smiled. “I know he lets Annabeth Chase dance at slower tempos because she can’t keep up.”
“Only in ‘Marzipan,’” Percy said quickly. Shit talking NYCB was one thing, healthy rivalry and all that, but Annabeth was another thing entirely. “And she can keep up. The slower tempo, It’s their compromise. She doesn’t like dancing ‘Marzipan,’ but he likes her in the role, so she gets to ask the conductor to bring it down a notch when she’s dancing it, and Chiron gets to keep casting her.”
“Why keep casting her if she hates it and can’t dance it?” Reyna asked.
“She can dance it,” Percy clarified, “and it’s because she’s one of the strongest dancers in the company. She’s a master at all those hops on pointe. Chiron trusts her not to fall over or break her ankle. If she likes to do it a little slower, so what? It gives her more time to bring more artistry and grace to keep it interesting.” He could feel his defensiveness in his voice, and Reyna spotted it too.
She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him before asking: “Did she ever get married?” Reyna asked.
“No, she left him at the altar.”
Reyna actually smiled then. “Damn, good for her.”
~~
His mom nearly crushed him when she hugged him. “I’m so proud of you,” she said as she kissed the top of his head. Miss Hestia had congratulated him when he left the stage, and then said she was going to find someone important.
“Miss Hestia says we can’t leave yet. She wants to introduce us to someone,” Percy said.
“We’ll stay here all night if we need to,” Sally promised.
They didn’t need to wait all night. A minute later, Miss Hestia was there, a young man with her. He looked like he was maybe in his thirties, dark blonde hair and a wide smile.
“The big winner! Congratulations kid,” the man said.
“Thanks,” Percy said. He didn’t like the guy’s super familiar energy, but he would be polite.
“My name is Lester,” he said.
“Like the cannibal?” Percy asked.
He laughed. “No, that's Hannibal Lecter, but close. I’m one of the instructors at Phoebus Dance Academy. We’d like to offer you a spot.”
Percy nodded. “That would be great,” he said. Miss Hestia was nodding too.
“Glad to hear it. Is this your mom?” He looked at Sally.
“Sally Jackson,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Your son is quite the talent, Miss Jackson. Let’s talk about his enrollment.”
As they stepped to the side, Miss Hestia gave him another hug. “You are always welcome in my class,” she said. “But I think you’re really going to go far, Percy.”
“You really think so?” He looked down at his first place medal. The first time he’d ever been the best at anything.
“I do. Tell me, did you like being on stage?” She asked.
“It was the best,” he said. It was. It was such a rush to be up there, in costume, no mirror, knowing anything could go wrong, knowing anyone could see him slip and fall, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t falling, he was flying. He was doing everything right.
“Then yes, I think you’re going to be one of the best the ballet world has ever seen.”
~
Casting was finalized a week and a half later, but it didn’t come with any surprises to Percy. After the first few days, he’d only been scheduled to dance Tarantella with Rachel and Slaughter with Reyna.
Lupa had made it a habit to sit in on Percy’s rehearsals and watch him closely. Percy tried not to let it shake him; she was just another audience member. Rachel didn’t seem bothered by it at all. She just kept smiling and dancing. Her red curls were pulled back into a tight bun, but even restrained they gave her a folksy peasant look that played well with the ballet.
Rachel didn’t struggle to keep up the pace. While Percy sometimes felt like he was running around like a child playing tag, she managed to maintain all the grace of a classically trained dancer with the charm and attitude of their peasant characters. Percy mostly channeled the peasant attitude into his on-stage flirting and general goofball style of dance.
But whatever they were doing together, Lupa seemed to really enjoy it.
They were half way through their first run of the day, and Lupa hadn’t stopped them once. She seemed content to let them just keep going, keep playing off each other to see what discoveries they might make.
Percy had been having fun switching up his exits. At the end of the dance, he ignored the rapid beating of his heart and the burn in his lungs, as he pulled Rachel in for a big kiss on the cheek. As she ran off, he beat his chest with the tambourine in triumph before chasing her off, his shoulders shimmying as he leaned back and made his way off stage.
The music ended, and he and Rachel collapsed onto the floor breathing heavily.
“Nice,” Lupa said. “My goodness, you can jump,” she said to him.
Percy smiled and let out a breathy “Thanks” in between deep gulps of air.
“I want us to run the beginning again and work on getting that footwork completely matched,” she said. “And I want to run the turns contest again.”
Rachel peeled herself off the floor. Percy took that as his cue to make himself ready. He took a few slow breaths as he walked to the opposite corner of the room, and took her arm for the starting position.
“Can we get the tempo a little slower?” Lupa asked the pianist. “Let's run it slow first to make sure we’ve got it, then we’ll take it full speed.”
Rachael and Percy nodded, as their few bars of lead-in started to play. They heard their cue and ran out to the middle of the room, slower than usual to match the pace of the music. The footwork at the start had them tapping the tops of their toes behind them, and the box of Rachel’s pointe shoes made loud clacking noises as they did. They let Percy know when he was out of sync with her, but this run, he felt his toes tap the floor as he heard the clack of her shoes.
Percy went to arabesque and held out his hand for Rachel to clap with her own, but Lupa stopped.
“Alright, much better. Let's try it full speed.”
They started from the beginning again. The music was faster now, but Percy could tell they were far more synchronized than earlier that morning. Perfect, even.
“Yes! Yes, that’s great,” Lupa said, cutting them off again. They ran the turns contest again, and then the whole thing from the top. Lupa applauded them at the end. “Excellent! I’ll leave you two to the ballet masters until opening,” she said, before calling an end to their rehearsal.
“We make a pretty great pair,” Rachel said, smiling at him as she took her pointe shoes off.
“Yeah,” Percy agreed, “you remind me a lot of my friend Piper.”
Rachel and Piper were similar heights and builds, but he also felt that similar, natural ease dancing with Rachel that he felt with Piper. They didn’t need much rehearsal to get to a place where the dance looked and felt good. He remembered that being the case when they were in school together, but it had been so many years since then. He was glad to see that not too much had changed.
“Jason’s new girlfriend?” Rachel asked, a curious look in her eye.
Percy nodded. “Not sure what they’re calling each other, but more or less.”
“You’d be wise not to bring her up too much around Reyna,” Rachel warned.
“Got it,” he said. “Anyone else I should avoid mentioning?”
Rachel smiled as she stretched out her tired legs. “Oh,” she started casually, “quite a few people are hoping you don’t bring up Annabeth Chase too much,” she said.
“Why not?” Percy asked, massage ball under his sore calf muscle.
She almost laughed. “We hear all sorts of rumors from New York. From what we hear, it’s not just Piper McLean who’s got a new man.”
Percy couldn’t stop himself from flushing or grinning. He instinctively reached for his phone to text Annabeth, but he held back. “Well…” he shrugged, not sure exactly what to say.
Rachel almost looked disappointed, but she pulled her face back into the flirty familiar look she wore in the ballet. “Ah, how unfortunate for all of us. Nico will be particularly disappointed.”
“Nico?” Percy asked. He wasn’t surprised Nico was gay; the only color the man seemed to own was in several Pride-themed items, including his water bottle.
“The little Italian man? Bianca and Hazel’s brother,” Rachel reminded him.
“I know who he is,” Percy said, “I was just surprised to hear he liked me. I thought I might have deeply offended him by not remembering his name.”
Rachel laughed. “Well, he keeps telling people you’re not his type, but unprompted. He’s certainly trying to prove something to someone. Should I tell him there’s no chance?”
“Well, technically, I only promised Annabeth not to sleep with any women while I was down here,” he joked.
“Well then, I’ll let him know there’s hope,” Rachel said, smiling. “Do you want to grab dinner when we get out of here? I still want to catch up,” she said.
“That’d be great!” Percy said smiling.
They ended up at a casual Cuban restaurant and stayed at the table long after finishing the bulk of their meal. Percy pushed the remaining rice and beans around his plate in some effort to convince the waitress they were still working on the food.
Rachel had climbed the ranks of Miami Ballet fast. She became a soloist at twenty-two, and only stayed at the rank for about thirteen months before being promoted again. As a young dancer, she’d made a big splash with her success. Distantly, Percy remembered her landing the cover of Pointe Magazine at twenty, dressed in one of her costumes from Balanchine’s Coppelia .
“Lupa made it clear when she promoted me to soloist that she thought I could easily go all the way to Principal,” Rachel said, mushing some beans with the back of her fork. She closed her eyes for a moment, as if lost in the memory. “I really felt like my life was over when I didn’t get into New York. I mean, I know most people don’t, but …”
“I know how you feel,” Percy reminded her, “even if I got it in the end. But it seems like things really worked out for you down here.”
Rachel nodded. “It’s been pretty perfect. I mean, I’ve gotten to do so much. I sometimes wonder if I’d stayed in New York if I would have ended up just kind of stuck --” she cut herself off, her cheeks going pink as she sucked in a breath, and Percy raised a knowing eyebrow. “I don’t mean because of your career. You’re doing amazing, I just …” she cleared her throat.
Percy decided to throw her a lifeline.
“I get it,” he said. “I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I’d decided to go to Miami anyway. Maybe I wouldn’t be so … stuck.” The thought had crossed his mind a few times, particularly in recent years, waiting to see if he’d be promoted. He wondered if he would be a principal by now, like Rachel was.
“Do you think you’ll get promoted soon?” Rachel asked.
Percy shrugged. “Annabeth keeps saying she thinks so, but I don’t know.”
“Would you ever leave New York? If you got something better?” She asked.
Percy took a sip of his drink, slurping down the last dregs of Coke. Would he? He’d never really considered it before. City Ballet had been -- is -- everything to him. But …
“I mean, maybe? The thing about New York is … it’s a lot more to me than just the company, you know? When I was eighteen and needed a job, sure, I could start a new life somewhere else. But …” he thought about his family, his friends, and Annabeth. But then he thought about his career. “I mean, I wouldn’t do what Jason did, and go just from soloist to soloist.”
“What if it was more than that?” Rachel asked.
“Well, I guess then I’d have to think about it, but that kind of thing doesn’t really happen anyway,” he said.
Rachel shrugged. “You never know,” she said.
Their waitress came back over. “Can I get these out of the way for you?” She asked.
They handed her their plates, and Rachel asked for the check. When it arrived, she grabbed it before he could.
“You are quite literally a guest in Miami, I could never let you pay for it,” she said. Percy remembered that her dad was some kind of fancy CEO. He was pretty sure her family owned a helicopter and their own private chunk of a Caribbean island. So, he let her pay for it.
“Thanks,” he said.
She also got the Uber ride back. When she dropped him at his AirBNB, he thanked her again, leaning in for a hug.
“Say ‘hi’ to Annabeth for me,” she said.
Percy didn’t know if she and Annabeth had ever actually talked before, but he said he would.
~~
Lester had gotten him into a bigger competition. It was regional, but if he did well, he’d go on to the national competition.
“No pressure on this one,” Lester said. “Juniors is twelve through fourteen, so you’re up against some older kids. I just want you to get some exposure, and get used to big competitions.”
Percy had kept the same Flames of Paris variation, working on the number of turns he could do at once, and how carefully and precisely he landed them.
He did a good job, and Lester told him as much. Some of the other boys from his school had more complicated variations, and Percy thought they stood out more. But he did his best, and he was proud of himself when he’d finished.
They sat in the audience to watch the junior girls. Some of the girls from his school were competing, and they needed to support them.
One of the last girls to go was a blonde girl in a peasant dress. The music started. “This is Giselle,” Lester whispered to him.
“Her name is Giselle?” Percy asked.
“No, the ballet is called
Giselle,”
he said. The blonde girl wasn’t even thirty seconds into the dance before Lester leaned over again and said, “I don’t know who the girl is, but she’s going to be famous.” Percy wasn’t sure how he could know that from just a few simple steps, but as her dance went on, he started to see it. Junior girls didn’t need to wear pointe shoes, but she was in them, and she seemed so much more graceful than the girls in training at his school. She had control over her feet, her arms, her head … so many of them just looked long and awkward like most preteens, but she was different. Her technique was great, Percy could tell, but she was also able to act the part. A lot of them just got up and did the dance with a smile on their face, but Giselle seemed to really know how to tell the story.
Percy found himself on the edge of his seat as she did hops on one foot, on her toes!, across the stage on pointe. He didn’t know ballet could be just as exciting to the people watching as it was to perform.
The audience erupted with applause for her. “I’ve never seen a junior do that,” Lester said to him over the roar of the crowd. He picked up the program and started scanning for her name. “I mean, the strength and control …”
It wasn’t a surprise to Percy that the blonde girl had won the competition, but one of the girls from his school had gotten third, and another two were top ten. Percy came in twelfth for the boys, which he counted as pretty exceptional, since there were so many dancers there.
After the awards were handed out, the judges lined the top fifteen boys and girls up, thirty kids in a line, and took one big picture. Giselle and top boy were right in the center. Percy was off to the side. Every winner got sent a copy, and Sally framed it right away.
Twelfth place wasn’t high enough to move onto the next round of competition, but the girls and boy from his school who made it into the top five did go on.
“ Giselle won the whole thing,” Lester said when they got back from Washington D.C.
~
The waitress at Calypso’s dropped off several baskets of chips and salsa, before returning with an enormous pitcher of margaritas, and a tray of tequila shots and limes. They all had the day off tomorrow, and Hazel was determined to show Percy a good time. Calypso’s was a favorite spot of theirs, they told him. Happy hour offered two dollar tequila shots and two dollar tacos. They had ordered both in abundance.
He was sitting in a booth between Rachel and Reyna, and Hazel, Frank, Nico, and Bianca sat on the other side.
“I hate doing shots,” Percy confessed.
“Well, you only need to do one,” Rachel said, handing him the tiny glass, salt, and a lime. "It's tradition."
“I like the ritual of a tequila shot,” Reyna said.
“Nothing quite like licking salt off your own hand,” Frank agreed.
The tequila was decently smooth for two dollars, but Percy still made a face all the way through the bite of his lime.
“You know, Jason Grace holds the Miami Ballet record for most tequila shots in a single night,” Hazel told him. Percy laughed, trying to square the image of the buttoned up Jason Grace he knew with a man who could earn some kind of tequila shot record.
“Eleven in one night,” Frank said.
“He threw up in my bed,” Reyna muttered.
A few at the table raised their eyebrows.
“We weren’t sleeping together, I just got stuck taking care of him,” she said casually, pouring a margarita into a large glass.
“Did you two ever sleep together?” Rachel asked, reaching for a chip.
“That’s between me, him, and God,” Reyna said, sipping her drink.
For a moment, there was an awkward lull in the conversation, but Frank was quick to fill it.
“So, Percy, what’s your favorite role to dance?” He asked.
Percy paused to think. “Well, Opus 19 has a special place in my heart. I just danced that again this winter. And dancing Prince Desiré in Sleeping Beauty was incredible. But honestly, Tarantella has been a dream ballet of mine since I was twelve, and Chiron just never puts it on the program,” he said. “So getting to dance it here has been really great.”
He felt Rachel rest a hand on his knee under the table. He assumed, at first, it was a supportive and excited reassurance, but then she didn’t take it away as she started speaking.
“Don’t tell Chiron, but Lupa always complains Chiron isn’t using Balanchine’s rep to its full potential,” Rachel said.
“What do you mean?” Percy asked.
Rachel shrugged. “She thinks he has a much more classical approach than is fitting for Balanchine’s company.” She took a sip of her drink. “And that he favors dancers who are more classical in their style.”
Percy shook her hand off his knee, trying to think of some response, but Hazel saved him the energy.
“Be careful who you shit talk,” Hazel warned, “Beckendorf is still my good friend, and Annabeth is sweet, despite what everyone says.”
Percy didn’t need clarification on what everyone says. He’d heard it enough himself, but he was surprised to know those rumors had made their way down to Miami.
“She’s been through a lot,” Percy said, “and Hazel’s right. She’s sweet. And talented.”
“No one said she wasn’t talented,” Rachel said.
Percy was about to remind them all that New York was good enough for Jason, but Nico saved him from starting an all out war. The man didn’t talk much, and when he did, his voice commanded people’s attention. He was nothing like the little boy he remembered from Miss Hestia’s class.
“You’ll have to forgive Rachel. She’s never quite emotionally recovered from Annabeth dancing Juliet the same year she was rejected from City Ballet.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rachel’s face go red, and then there was some thump, and Nico muttered, “Ow.”
“It’s all right,” Percy said, still a bit angry. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, and under the table he tapped out a quick message to Annabeth: I miss you. “Hazel, what made you stay in Miami?” Percy asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, well,” she took a deep breath, “I was just about set on moving to New York and leaving these Balanchine companies behind. But … Lupa offered me a principal contract and the two swans to stay on for at least another five years with the company.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t pass that up. Lupa always gets what she wants.” She turned to Frank. “But the choice came with a few other advantages.”
Nico rolled his eyes as she rested her head on Frank’s shoulder.
“You must’ve been one of the youngest Swans ever,” Rachel said.
“Youngest at Miami to do it. But I wasn’t the youngest ever , certainly not,” Hazel said.
“At least the youngest in recent years?” Frank suggested.
Hazel almost laughed, before making eye contact with Percy. She raised an eyebrow at him, inviting him to say the magic words. His phone buzzed.
ANNABETH: I miss you too ❤️
“Annabeth Chase danced them at twenty-one,” Percy said.
~~
After a few months, Percy started to really understand what Miss Hestia meant by needing a better program. He was already stronger and more in control of himself and his body. His new school had more classes, not just ballet but also tap, modern, and jazz. They had conditioning workout classes Percy could take on the weekends. He started to look like the boys in his classes, the ones who’d been dancing for years. He had the same strength, the same skills. He started letting himself dream of a real career. Maybe he could do it.
“I know you haven’t been dancing for a while,” Lester said to him after one class, “but since you’re already almost thirteen, it’s a good idea to start thinking about your goals, your future.” Percy nodded. “What are your goals, Percy?”
“My dream would be --”
“We’re not talking about dreams, we’re talking about goals. Once we know what you want to do, we can start working for it,” Lester said. “Your goals don’t need to be small, though. So, tell me again, what’s your goal?”
“To be a professional ballet dancer, in a real company,” Percy said.
Lester smiled. “Great! Any idea where?”
Percy shrugged. “I don’t know a lot of companies, I guess. Or even how to get into one.”
“You’re in luck, because I do.” Lester dug around his bag. “Here, I brought these for you to watch,” he handed Percy a stack of old tapes, “do you still have a VCR at home? If not, you can watch them here. We have one upstairs. These are some George Balancine ballets. He created his own ballet style, an American aesthetic for ballet. It’s fast and modern. I think it would suit you. Give these a watch, tell me what you think.”
Percy nodded, looking at the titles on the tapes. Jewels. Serenade. Tarantella. “Does George Balanchine have a company?” Percy asked.
Lester smiled. “Balanchine is dead, but there are a few companies that do his repertory. Miami and Pacific Northwest. And, the big one, New York City Ballet. That was Balanchine’s company.”
“I’ve seen their Nutcracker !” Percy said.
“Awesome! Go home, watch these, and tell me what you think.”
They were hardly what Percy had expected. He loved dancing ballet, but he’d never really enjoyed just watching it. He thought the competitions had been pretty boring, except when he was on stage. But these were different. The dancers moved fast, exploding with energy and character. They spun fast, jumped fast, and danced fast. It actually held Percy’s attention, even when it was a little slower. They made him smile.
Tarantella was his favorite. The man got to jump high up in the air while he beat on a tambourine, before coming down to do some fun footwork and swing his arms around. And at the end, he got to kiss the girl. Percy started to copy some of the moves, but the man danced so fast, Percy could barely figure out what he was doing.
When Percy walked into the studio for class two days later, he handed Lester the stack of tapes back.
“I want to be in the New York City Ballet,” Percy said.
“You got it,” Lester said. “That’s our new goal. Now, let’s figure out how to get you there.” He handed Percy the stack of tapes back. “Hold onto these for me,” he told him.
~
His Slaughter debut was coming up, and it was one of the rare performance debuts he didn’t feel nervous about. He and Reyna were well-matched partners, the same as he and Rachel. He could easily imagine dancing several other ballets with either of them without much of an issue. It was the same ease that had always been present when he danced with Piper. And now, with Annabeth.
Percy unlocked the door to his apartment. As a temporary living space, it didn’t have much of his own personality. It was a well-decorated AirBNB, close to the theater and studios. He’d promised himself he was going to unpack as soon as he got in, but they were over two weeks into his guesting spot, and he was still living out of his suitcase. Well, he thought, as he looked shamefully at the pile of clothes he had created, too late now. It's already halfway done.
He pulled some vegetables out of his fridge, along with an egg and some leftover rice, content to make a quick stir fry before collapsing into his bed, when his phone pinged.
ANNABETH: You up?
Percy smiled as he texted yeah, expecting a phone call but getting blessed with a FaceTime.
She was already laying in bed, her hair down, glasses on, and makeup off.
Before she could even say “hi,” Percy rested his head on the counter, overwhelmed.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said.
She laughed and rolled onto her back, holding her phone up over her face. “I’m glad I called. It sounds like you almost forgot about me.”
Percy pouted. “Forget about you? I could never,” he said, propping his phone up against the knife block so he was still in frame as he cooked. “And anyway, everyone here is just as obsessed with you as New York is. They all want to know about you.”
“I hope you’re not being too flattering,” she said, rolling back over onto her side.
“Impossible,” he said, dumping the vegetables into the pan. “How has New York been?”
“Good, I agreed to teach a masterclass at your sister’s ballet school this summer. Just a weekend pre-pointe intensive,” she said. “Stella was thrilled.” Annabeth, he knew, had continued to visit Stella’s school, and had even started taking class with the older students while City Ballet was on break. “I’ve signed 100 pairs of shoes in the last two weeks,” she’d told him a few days ago, her smile betraying any attempt at faux annoyance.
“How’s Miami?” She asked.
“Hot,” he said. “I’m pretty tired, too, without a break between seasons, but … it’s been a lot of fun. Tarantella and Slaughter are such exciting pieces,” he told her.
“Piper has been complaining endlessly that you’re getting to do Slaughter,” Annabeth said.
Percy nodded. “Oh she’s texted me about it plenty.”
“She and Silena were over today to help me pack,” she said. In the last month, she’d found an apartment in the same building as Beckendorf and Silena, and was using the break to move out of her old place.
“I’m sorry I’m not there to help you move things,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it, we’re big girls, we can handle it,” she said. “Your dad did try to help, and I think he hurt his back.” Paul had offered her his car to help with the move, but when she’d told him she didn’t have a driver's license, that quickly turned into him helping her move. From what Percy had heard from him, he’d been a huge help.
“Please don’t hurt Paul,” Percy said, “he’s the only good dad we’ve got.”
“Don’t worry, I think he's done helping.” She took a long pause, before saying: “I donated my wedding dress today.”
Percy paused from stirring his vegetables to look at her.
“How do you feel?”
She shrugged. “It was strange. I thought I’d feel sad or triumphant. But I tried it on, and I felt … nothing. It felt like a costume. It was beautiful. I looked good. But it was just a dress. I didn’t have any attachment to it, really.”
“How did it look?” Percy asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Annabeth teased, before getting serious again. “It still fit perfectly. Silena was there when I bought it, but Piper had never seen it. I actually let Piper try it on too, and it fit her great. She almost cried when she looked in the mirror. I offered it to her, but she thought it would be bad luck.”
“I bet you looked beautiful,” Percy said.
“I did. And it was so expensive. And I was just so happy I never wore it,” she said.
“Oh, me too,” Percy assured her.
“I miss you,” she said, her voice soft and sincere.
“I miss you too,” he promised. “I’ll be home soon.”
“You’ve promised me a dinner,” she reminded him.
“I plan to make good on that promise, don't worry.”
“Tell me more about Miami,” she said.
Percy told her everything he could think of. Rehearsals with Rachel and Reyna (he teased her about the jealous crease in her brow, which she denied), Lupa’s praise, their favorite spots to get dinner, the friendship he was building with Frank, the friendship he was remaking with Bianca. Everything.
By the end of his rambling, her eyes had started to droop. “I wish you were here with me,” she said.
“I wish I was too,” he said.
“Promise you won’t forget about me once you start all your performances?” she asked.
“There is nothing in the world that could make me forget about you,” he said.
“I don’t know, I’ve seen Reyna’s leg extensions before,” she said.
“I think she’s still feeling a bit betrayed by Jason, to be honest,” he said, “but also, they aren’t enough to make me forget about you,” he added quickly.
“Good save,” she said, yawning at the end. “Rachel Dare is very pretty,” she added.
Percy shrugged and tried to act nonchalant. “I’ve never really noticed,” he said.
“Sure,” Annabeth said, obviously not believing him. She yawned again, slipping her hand under the wire frame of her glasses to rub her eyes.
“Should I let you get some sleep?” He asked.
“Probably. And I should let you get to bed too.” He’d finished his dinner and sat on the couch despite how sweaty his body still felt.
He nodded. “Alright, goodnight Annabeth.”
“Goodnight Percy.”
When he got out of the shower, he had a single notification from her. A photo. He opened it, and found a picture from earlier that day of her in her wedding dress. A slightly off-white almost champagne-colored dress with a wide skirt and off-the-shoulder sleeves. He felt his face get warm and his heart rate pick up, as irrational thoughts of the future flooded his mind. He pushed them out of his head. Stage weddings in tutus were all they were ready for right now; no reason for him to get ahead of himself. But still. He wished she’d kept the dress until he got back to New York, so he could at least know what it was like to take her out of it.
PERCY: I’ll say it again. You’re so beautiful.
PERCY: Is it okay if I save this?
ANNABETH: Of course.
He rolled over onto his side, smiling as he stared at the photo, and let his mind wander off to the other things they’d do together once he got home, besides just getting dinner.
~*~
To get into New York City Ballet, Percy needed to get into the School of American Ballet. He and Lester and Miss Hestia had sat down to make a plan. They decided his best shot would be to try and get him in around his fifteenth birthday. That would give him two more years to train.
“You’ll audition for their summer course this year,” Lester said, “and a few other big courses. But, I’ll be honest, your odds of getting into the summer course this time around are pretty small.” Percy nodded.
“But, if you work hard, keep up your training, and don’t get injured, we think you can get into the summer course the summer you turn fifteen,” Miss Hestia explained. “From there, you’ll ask to be considered for the rest of the term. Hopefully that will push you over the top.”
“And if I don’t get in at fifteen?” Percy asked.
“We change our goals,” Lester said. “You can try out for other big schools, or you can find an even stronger program in the city than this one, and start working full time on dance, while you finish high school. And then just audition for companies. You don’t need to go to a big fancy school to get into a company.”
“Except City Ballet,” Percy said.
“Except that one,” Miss Hestia said, “but it’s not out of reach Percy.”
He went home, grateful to see that Smelly Gabe was out. His mom was working her usual Saturday shift too, so he had the apartment to himself. He popped in the VHS of Serenade and started to mimic the dancers. It started with seventeen girls on stage, but he didn’t care if they were girls, he just wanted to dance, and dance like them.
Percy was only ten minutes into the video when his mother got home. “Keep going,” she whispered, as she sat on the couch to watch him. He didn’t know all the steps, so he kept his eyes on the TV. He tried to reverse everything, remembering that he was looking at a mirror image, but that made it harder, so sometimes he just gave up and did it the wrong way.
Sally was smiling. “You’ll be on that stage one day, I’m sure of it,” she said.
Percy’s smile was interrupted by Gabe opening the door with as much clamor as a single man could possibly make. He smelled like tobacco and beer. Percy could tell that whatever poker game he’d been at had not gone well for him. He already seemed angry when he walked in, and the sight of Serenade on the TV only made him angrier.
Sally tried to shoo Percy to his room, but Percy wasn’t going to leave his mom with Gabe like this.
“Now, what the fuck is that?” Gabe said. He went over to the VCR and ejected the tape.
Percy reached for it. “It’s Balanchine’s Serenade, and it belongs to my teacher, so give it back.”
Gabe laughed. “You think you’re some kind of artist?”
“Gabe,” Sally said in a warning tone, “give Percy his video back. You can have the TV now.”
“It’s my TV, of course I can use it. What I don’t want is my TV being used for bullshit like this,” he said. He held up the video in front of Percy. Percy lunged for it, but Gabe pulled it back, taunting him. “You don’t need this garbage,” he said, as he reached into the casing and started to pull out the film.
“Stop it!” Percy yelled, reaching for it again, but he was thrown backwards by the force of Gabe’s backhand to his cheek.
Sally stood up fast. “You can’t hit him!” She yelled. From his spot on the floor, he saw his mom grab the tape out of Gabe’s hands and push him backwards, away from Percy. “I’ve let you lay your hands on me Gabe, but you will not touch my son,” she said. Gabe just grabbed her wrists and raised his fist above her.
“Stop!” Percy said. He’d hit her, he realized. Gabe had been beating his mom this whole time. Percy hadn’t protected her from anything. Percy stood, reading to run at Gabe, who’d turned his attention to Percy.
Sally broke out of his grip, and stood in front of Percy.
“You’ve hit him before, haven’t you?” She asked Gabe. Gabe just laughed. “Percy, you go to your room,” she said. Percy started to protest, but she yelled at him. “Now!”
He didn’t want to leave his mom, but he did what she said. He left the door open a crack, sitting right against the door frame, ready to run back out when she needed him.
They fought for over an hour. Or, rather, his mother yelled at Gabe for an hour. He could hear her moving through the living room, easily avoiding his drunk stumbling. Through the crack in his door, he could see into the kitchen. He saw Gabe go to the fridge for another bottle. Sally kept yelling at him, calling him a drunk lowlife and threatening to call the police. At that threat, he threw the half-empty bottle at her. Percy stood to go help her, but he heard it shatter somewhere else in the living room as his mother laughed.
“Get out,” she hissed at him. “You are never coming back here,” she told him. “I’ve let you get away with a lot of shit over the years, but you will not hurt my boy --”
“Your boy is an idiot and a trouble maker and a queer,” he heard Gabe say. He could see his mother in the kitchen. He watched her grab the heavy wooden cutting board and swing towards Gabe. He hit the ground with a loud thump.
“He’s good , and he’s mine. And I won’t let him suffer another day with you.”
Percy held his breath as he heard Gabe stumble to his feet. But he didn’t hear another word from him or his mom. The front door opened, then closed. Percy shut his own door quietly, before jumping into the bed as if he’d been there the whole time. He waited for mom. And waited. But she didn’t come in.
~
Percy’s lungs burned with effort, and his calves and quads ached, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Tarantella was all about the energy and the character. He felt free to jump as high as he could, swing his arms faster, flirt shamelessly as a peasant boy might with a girl, and beat his tambourine to the rhythm of the music.
He pulled Rachel in for their final kiss on the cheek before exiting, beating his chest in triumph, before shimmying his way off stage. Or, technically, to the side of the rehearsal room.
Light poured in through the big open windows, and the air inside and outside was warm. He knew the studios in New York were probably cold on the inside without daily use, and the weather outside would be gray and rainy. It must have been getting warmer, though. Last time they had FaceTimed, Annabeth was outside, sporting a Yankee baseball hat instead of her winter hat with the big pompom on top.
When the music cut, he flopped down onto his back in a beam of light like a cat would. Rachel followed him to the floor, lifting her feet up in the air and shaking them. The only sound was their heavy breathing for a moment, before the ballet master started giving them things to keep working on.
Before long, they were back up on their feet, running Rachel’s series of pirouettes as Percy encouraged the audience to clap along to the beat.
As soon as the folksy music started to play, it was as if every pain in his body, every physical limitation, and every bit of exhaustion disappeared for him. There was just Tarantella with Rachel.
The debut was in only a few days, and Percy couldn’t wait.
With every day that passed in Miami, he felt himself jump higher, spin faster, reach out further and further, closer and closer to … something. That feeling was indescribable, but he knew he was on the brink. It wasn’t quite the freedom he was always searching for, but it was close. There was something freeing about Tarantella and Miami together. He was no one’s understudy here. He was just himself.
~~
His mom had finally come home at four in the morning. Percy hadn’t shut his eyes the whole time she was gone. He just stayed in bed, not caring that he was hungry, or needed to pee. He just kept waiting.
Finally, his door opened. His mother was there, looking a bit shell-shocked. “Percy, are you okay?” She asked.
Percy nodded. She walked over and sat on the bed next to him. She still smelled like the candy store. She was crying. “I’m so sorry, Percy, for what he’s done to you,” she stroked his hair gently.
Percy sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m okay Mom, I promise.”
She hugged him back. “We’re going to be free of him one day, Percy. You’ll see. It’s going to be over soon.”
He stumbled to Miss Hestia’s class a few hours later, the ruined tape of Serenade shamefully in his bag. His jaw was a little bruised from where Gabe had hit him, but he just hoped people would believe that he fell trying to land a jump.
Miss Hestia didn’t believe him, he could tell. But she didn’t say anything.
“I … could you give this back to Mr. Lester?” Percy asked her, taking the tape out of his bag. The man had been working so hard to help Percy, he couldn’t stand the idea of giving him back his video himself. “My step-dad ruined it. I’m really sorry. I can pay for it.”
Miss Hestia took the tape from his hands gently, before resting a hand on his face. “Mr. Lester has plenty of copies, don’t you worry,” she said. “Should I be worried about the other things your stepfather has done?”
Percy shook his head. “He didn’t come home last night. I think he left for good,” he said.
“Okay,” Miss Hestia said, “is that why you look so tired?”
Percy nodded.
“How about, instead of taking class today, you go take a nap in the office. There’s a couch in there?” Percy nodded. A nap sounded nice. Miss Hesita led him there, let him lay down, and before long Percy was asleep.
Miss Hestia woke him up a few hours later. “Will your mom be home when you get back?” She asked once Percy sat up. He nodded. “Then let me walk you home. I’d like to speak with her.” Percy nodded, that ever-unpleasant feeling of a teacher talking to his mom washing over him.
Miss Hestia knocked on the door when they arrived, even though Percy had a key.
His mother relaxed when she saw Percy at the door. “Miss Hestia, thank you for getting him home. I was getting worried,” Sally said, as she gestured for Percy to come inside.
“Of course. Miss Jackson? Could I speak to you for a moment?” She asked.
Sally nodded. “Go inside, Percy,” she said, before stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door.
Percy stayed right by the door, his ear pressed up against it.
“Sally, I should call the police.”
“There’s no need, Hestia. His stepfather didn’t come home last night. I called the police myself, but,” his mother’s voice got low, “I don’t think we’ll ever see him again.”
There was a long strained pause between them.
“You’re a good mother, Sally,” Miss Hestia said, something tense in her voice, “Percy needs you.”
“And I won’t lose him. Everything will be fine. If Gabe comes back --”
“If your husband comes back, I will call the police. Neither of you should have to share a home with that man.”
“I know,” his mom said. Her voice got quiet, and she repeated, “I know. I should have kicked Gabe out a long time ago. But I will never let Percy get hurt again.”
“He’s a good boy, Sally. You’ve done your best.”
“Hestia, he and I … we’re going to be living on just my income now. So I need to know, is it worth it? Do you really think he can be a professional dancer?”
Percy felt his heart sink. Of course he’d have to give up dancing now. His mother wouldn’t be able to keep paying for it, and it must have been obvious to everyone that he wasn’t good enough to keep getting scholarships if even she thought he couldn’t do it.
“You don’t believe in him?” Miss Hestia sounded shocked to hear the question from Sally.
“I believe that Percy can do anything, I always have. But I can’t tell a good dancer from a great one, and not at their age. So … “
“Your son has a talent unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He’s been dancing for less than a year, but he is keeping up with boys his age who have been dancing their entire lives. Lester is a realist. He believes in everyone knowing who they are and what they are capable of. He would never lie to a student about what they were capable of. He wouldn’t tell Percy to aim for New York if he didn’t think Percy stood a chance of getting in.” There was a long pause. “As long as Percy wants to keep dancing, he will, even if I have to pay his tuition myself.”
There was a moment of silence between them. Finally, his mother offered a sheepish “Thank you. Thank you for taking care of him, for walking him home.”
“Of course, Sally. If you ever need anything …”
A moment later, the door started to open. Percy vaulted over the couch, landing on the cushions as if he’d been sitting there the whole time, not eavesdropping.
His mother sat next to him. “Why don't you take a nap, Percy?” She suggested. Percy just nodded and laid down on the couch. It didn’t take long before he was asleep.
When he opened his eyes, his mom was watching Jewels. It was nearing the end.
“This is ‘Diamonds,’” Percy said, “Mr. Lester was telling me that this section was composed by the same guy who did the music for Nutcracker.”
Sally nodded, “Tchaikovsky,” she told him. Percy repeated the name. “He also did Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty.”
“Like the Disney movie?” Percy asked. Sally just nodded.
She pointed to the man on screen dancing the pas de deux. “That’s going to be you one day,” she promised him. “Nothing can stop you.”
Percy wasn’t sure he believed her.
~
Percy did some small jumps in the wings to keep his legs warm as he waited for Tarantella to start. Rachel was standing next to him with ribbons in her hair. Percy had a bandana tied around his head for the folksy look. They’d run the dance on the stage earlier that day in dress rehearsal, and they’d done it to near perfection. All they needed to do now was recreate that rehearsal, now just in front of the thousand people in the audience.
Percy felt relaxed, confident even. He wanted to do a good job, but there was nothing on the line here for him. All he needed to do was go out on stage and dance the way he always had. He played the old video of Tarantella back in his mind; the grainy VHS tape was still clear in his mind’s eye. The energy of Patricia McBride and Edward Villea radiated through the screen, and the fast-tempo music electrified something under his skin. It had made him want to dance fast and jump up high, and it still made him feel that way.
Tarantella captured everything Percy had first adored about Balanchine; it suited Percy’s talents for jumping and acting. And Rachel was exceptionally easy to dance it with. They matched each other’s pace and energy easily, bringing the competitive spirit of the two characters out, while still finding that innocent flirtation in their looks.
The music started. Percy linked arms with Rachel, and they took to the stage, waving at the audience as they went. They hit every step right on the music, and right in sync with each other. With the beginning behind them, Percy let his body take over. His brain went quiet, and he just let his muscles do what they had to.
Percy didn’t hold anything back. He erupted from the wings for his second entrance and really went for it. He swung his arms wildly, and jumped and spun as fast as he ever had. He beat his tambourine against his foot, thigh, and hand. It wasn’t until he was in the wings, on his hands and knees, desperate to catch his breath, that he realized just how much he had put into the dance. Fuck you, George, he thought at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t help but smile anyway, as he stood up again, ready for his next entrance.
The audience cheered as Percy jumped up again, then again, and again, beating the tambourine as he soared into the air, kicking his feet up with him. He felt free. It was Percy and the dance, recreating the same ballet he’d watched and studied as a child, but now doing it all himself, for a real audience who were cheering for him with every step.
In those moments in the air, he felt his heart beating as hard as he was beating the tambourine. His body felt like it was not just moving in time with the music, but literally beating in time with it, right down to his heart, it was all Tarantella.
As the stage hand pulled back the curtain for Percy and Rachel to bow at the end, the crowd got on their feet, clapping for them. And Percy knew it was a triumph. The moment felt near-perfect, and he couldn’t help but smile as he thought that he’d nearly gotten everything he wanted.
Except of course … he spotted blonde hair in the front row, but it was some older woman he didn’t know. She didn’t look anything like Annabeth, but he couldn’t help hoping he’d spot her familiar face out there in the sea of people.
~~
Sally didn’t let Percy see the body. He’d stayed outside of the morgue as Sally identified him. Gabe had his wallet on him when they found him, so they were pretty sure it was him.
His mother had cried the cab ride there, all the way through the identification, and all the way home. She’d been crying for days. Percy didn’t understand it. She was usually fine at home, but as soon as she stepped outside, it was like she couldn’t handle it anymore.
“Who cares,” Percy said that night, “he sucked and now he’s gone.”
“Don’t talk like that Percy,” she said. Her face was calm and serious, “not yet.”
Percy gave up trying to push the issue.
The police had asked Sally if they should do an investigation, but she declined. They didn’t even do an autopsy. After a day with the body the coroner ruled it a suicide, and Gabe’s case was closed. His mother opted for cremation.
She cried on the cab ride to the funeral home. She cried in the funeral home. She cried on the drive back. Percy couldn’t get himself to cry, but he must have looked shocked and confused enough at the news. Everyone kept treating him very kindly.
Sally and Percy walked back into their apartment. As soon as their front door shut and locked behind them, Sally kicked off her shoes, shed her coat, and held up Gabe’s urn.
“What should we do with these?” She asked. Her face was red from crying, but her eyes were dry now. Her voice was steady. And Percy thought she was even smiling.
“You … didn’t care?” Percy asked.
“He thought I was going to have him arrested,” Sally said casually.
“Then why …” Percy gestured broadly.
“I didn’t want the police to think … Well, it’s all over now. He made it easy,” she said, smiling at the urn.
“Only thing he ever made easy,” Percy said.
“Where should we put these?” Sally asked, nodding towards the ashes.
“I think we should flush them down the toilet,” Percy said. He waited for his mom to tell him that was mean or disrespectful, but she just smiled.
“Great idea,” Sally said, and they marched to the bathroom.
Percy did the honors of dumping the gray powder in the toilet water. “Good riddance, Smelly Gabe. You died the way you lived: gross.”
Sally got to flush.
“Now come on,” she said, pulling him from the bathroom. “This place is a mess.”
Sally threw open the windows of the apartment as Percy grabbed trash bags for the both of them. Before Sally took hers, she went over to the stereo, and picked out one of her own CDs, one of the ones she never played while Gabe was around. Percy recognized the CD. It was one of the Stevie Nicks ones his mom played whenever they drove out to Montauk.
As Stevie started singing, they started throwing out anything and everything that had belonged to Gabe. Ash trays. Beer bottles. Playing cards. CDs. Car magazines. They all went. They grabbed different bags for his clothes, and left them in the corner for donations.
“He’s got a life insurance policy,” his mother told him. “It will be enough for you to do your summer program, and a little left over for me to go back to school. And I’m going to sell that Radio Shack he owns.”
Percy smiled, “It’s the least he could do for us.”
Sally dropped her trash bag and walked over to him, finally pulling him into a tight hug. “If anyone ever hurts you again Percy…” she said, but she just trailed off.
Percy squeezed back. “You too, Mom. I don’t want anyone to ever hurt you either.”
“I know, sweetie, but that’s not your job. I’m your protector, okay? You’re not supposed to worry about me,” she told him.
Percy relaxed into the hug. “Okay Mom.”
“There’s nothing you need to protect me from. Not anymore. And there never was. I’m sorry …” she choked up, “I’m sorry for ever making you think there was.”
“It’s okay Mom,” he said, “I understand. I accept your apology, and I forgive you.”
His mom started to cry as she held onto him, and Percy felt himself start to cry too. For the first time since Gabe died, they both cried real tears over him, But , Percy promised himself, it would be the last time they ever did .
The song Percy always thought was going to be “Bootylicious” started, and his mother pulled away from him.
“This one’s my favorite,” she told him.
“I know,” he said, wiping his eyes.
Sally didn’t pick up the trash bag again, she just started dancing. A breeze blew through the window, and Percy could almost feel it carrying Gabe out of their lives forever. He was gone. Flushed.
Percy smiled and started dancing. There were no rules. He just had to move.
They danced through the living room, on the coffee table, on the couch, on the kitchen table. Wherever they could, they stood and danced together. Percy was surprised to find out he knew all the words to the song without ever trying to learn.
Sings a song, sounds like she's singing
I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh
They sang -- or shouted -- together, without any care for who heard them, or who they annoyed with their noise. It was just the two of them now. Their apartment belonged to them, and they had their lives back. They didn’t need to worry about anything ever again.
Sally grabbed his hands, and their dance turned into mostly jumping up and down as their singing got louder and louder.
“My love // I'm a few years older than you,” Sally sang at him.
The song was ending, but their dancing wasn’t slowing down. Percy could hardly smell that rancid scent of tobacco and beer anymore. He could barely picture the face that smell had belonged to.
As he and his mom danced even as the song faded and the next one started, Percy felt it, that moment Miss Hestia had told him about. She was right. Dance wasn’t something Gabe could have ever taken from him. It was something he did. And as he did in his living room with his mother, who was smiling, really smiling for the first time in a long time, Percy was sure of what he felt.
Freedom.
Notes:
We've done it! We've made it past where Once Upon A Pointe was abandoned! Chapter eleven is almost complete, and chapter twelve is partially written. I want to make sure chapter twelve is ready to go before I post eleven, because I don't want there to be a huge gap in between those two.
Rachel: Girlfriend? [finds out its Annabeth] Fuck, she's beautiful. I wish you two a very happy life together.
But you know Annabeth is up in New York just BLASTING Dolly Parton's "Jolene."
Went for a slightly more myth-accurate Apollo in this, rather than Rick's "I'm Just Ken" Apollo.
Dances mentioned in this chapter:
Tarantella: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETBeKIA8x9E
Slaughter: (This is from the film "On Your Toes," and Balanchine rechoreographed parts for the stage later) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFSK5KXSR4A
Other Slaughter stage clips: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJKdtdpYDrY and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUJYnL_Qwak and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPpoXLrHLB4
Revelations (full): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDXerubF4I4&t=584s
Wade in the Water: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tW979KNVwIw
Flames of Paris: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_jTPaqztog (first one)
Giselle variation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoG5izkLe-Y
Marzipan: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mu4xMFtleUc
Serenade: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xd9R9S6-9E4&t=1067s
Jewels/Diamonds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqYjutRpv6o&t=465sSongs mentioned:
I've Got Life, Nina Simone
Edge of Seventeen, Stevie Nicks
Chapter 11: Slaughter On Tenth Avenue
Notes:
Look, I know it's only been two days, but I could not help myself.
Chapter twelve is also almost done. It's really only chapter thirteen that needs to be mostly written, but that one is mostly epilogue. We are nearing the end here!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As a Soloist at New York City Ballet, Percy had become known for his skills as a partner. He could dance with any girl of any size, and she’d find him reliable, trustworthy, and stable. He never cared to put himself forward. Her stability and safety was all he cared about. Partnering was the one moment in his life he felt like ADHD didn’t rule his world; he was locked in, razor focused on her, whatever she needed, whatever she needed him to do, he knew right away.
But Percy hadn’t always been considered a good ballet partner. While Mr. Lester’s classes had offered some pas de deux training, he still felt skittish and unprepared walking into SAB’s pas class for the first time.
Truly, he’d felt nervous in all of his classes. If he’d ever felt like something of a hotshot at competitions and in Lester’s classes, that feeling had abandoned him at SAB. Everyone at SAB had been a hotshot wherever they’d come from. And all of them had been dancing for years longer than Percy, some of them a full decade ahead of him.
Whatever anxiety he had, it held him back in pas class the most. He was worried about dropping the girl, or messing something up and throwing her off in the process. He could hide his complete lack of confidence in his technique classes, but here, if he screwed up, someone would know. Worse, someone could get hurt.
In their third pas classes, the teacher had reassigned partners. He’d wound up with Annabeth. She was a level above him, but several kids from the upper level shared this class.
She was nice to him, but she didn’t talk much. Annabeth mostly paid close and careful attention to the teacher. She always looked so serious. She had introduced herself in a formal, polite way that made Percy smile. A lot about Annabeth made him smile, actually. All of the girls at SAB were pretty, but she was something else. He was sure that if they’d had the time, he might be able to make her smile too.
Don’t drop her, he thought as the teacher gave instructions, just remember the combination and for the love of god, don’t drop her.
Annabeth was instructive, telling him what she needed from him. Where he needed to put his hands, where he needed to press his thumbs into her back. She was steady and confident. When he messed up, she was able to correct a little to keep herself in the right place. And Percy learned.
He needed to be stronger, so he started going to the gym more, lifting weights and doing push-ups until the girl’s weight felt almost like nothing. He needed to work on his confidence too, Annabeth had told him. “We’ll make more mistakes if you’re nervous,” she told him. She wasn’t being cruel. She was just correct.
They danced together for three weeks, until her weight and balance were completely familiar to him. And Percy had been right, he could make her laugh. Still, he tried to push any thoughts of a crush on her out of his mind; he didn’t have time for that, and she’d never be interested in him.
But he couldn’t help but look forward to every pas class.
It was the middle of October when she stopped showing up.
“Percy, you’ll be with Rachel today,” the teacher told him. Rachel walked over to him.
“Where’s Annabeth?” He asked after class.
“Chiron needed her for Nutcracker, ” Rachel said.
“She got pulled into the company?” Percy asked.
Rachel nodded at Matt Sloan shoved against his back. “Sorry you’ll never dance with her again, Jackson,” he said.
“Why wouldn’t I dance with her again?” Percy asked.
“You’re the worst dancer here. No way you get a company contract,” Matt said.
(Years later, Percy would hear that Matt suffered a career-ending injury out at Ballet West, and he’d pretend to feel sorry for him.)
But for a while, Percy was pretty sure Matt was right. Even in his first show as an apprentice, just a party guest in the summer’s Romeo and Juliet, he watched Annabeth dance the principal role with Charles Beckendorf, that girl who’d taught him so much, but who didn’t seem to recognize him at all these days, and he thought well, I’ll never be him.
And then he felt something different. He stood in the back row of men during the Knight’s Dance. She was at the front with Luke Castellan, her “Paris.” And Percy felt that fierce determination to get there, to be that man. It wasn’t for the first time, or the last. When he danced with Annabeth Chase for the last time, he decided, he’d know it was the last time.
~
His Slaughter debut was the day after Tarantella. He was standing backstage next to Reyna, who was doing a series of squats and stretches in her pink costume. She still had her light blue leg warmers on. Her dark hair was up in a classic bun, but it would have to come down during her quick change. She only had a few moments to change into her black costume, change her shoes, and take her hair down.
They did this ballet well together. She was taller than most girls he usually partnered with, but in heels they were closer in height than if she were on pointe. And, he thought they had a good chemistry together.
It wasn’t her debut in this ballet, she’d told Percy a few weeks ago. She had done it a handful of times, most of them with Jason.
“I feel like everything is my debut,” Percy said, trying to laugh. Really, there were so many principal roles he hadn’t gotten to dance yet, including Slaughter.
“You’ll get your chance,” she said. “You’ll get everything once you’re a principal.”
She sounded so sure of his prospects in casting, and of his chances at promotion. It almost felt too familiar for Percy’s taste, but he mustered up his kindness and just said: “Thanks.”
~
Reyna had an incredible stage presence, and a remarkably subtle approach to acting in ballet. She brought the audience to her, drawing them in closer. He imagined them having to tilt forward in their seats to really get all of what she had to offer. But Reyna paid them no mind. She didn’t play to them; she played to Percy. And it was electric. He felt drawn to her in all the ways his character was meant to. He might have over-acted the role if he didn’t have her to play off of.
Reyna pretended to be passed out at the bar, and Percy leaned in and kissed her hard. She was wearing red lipstick and he knew it had gotten all over his face. He hoped it wasn’t too noticeable from the audience. With their kiss over, he pulled her into the center of the stage. They started their second, much more wild pas de deux, with Reyna’s long dark hair flipping everywhere, and her legs kicked oh so high up in the air.
Her character was so different from how Reyna seemed in real life, and that almost made it better. She got to be free, unbound and unserious. Percy channeled that same feeling as he slid across the floor.
As the ballet came to its tragic end, the audience erupted in cheers and applause. Percy felt like a rock star. Reyna kept pushing him forward in the curtain call, making sure he took a good, long, and earned bow.
~
Percy paused on his way to rehearsal. He was a few feet away from Lupa’s office when the door opened. A pretty woman in her early thirties stepped out. As she passed him, Percy noticed there were tears on her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
The woman shook her head, but took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. “You’re Percy, right?” She asked.
He nodded.
“I’m Gwen,” she held out her hand, and he shook it. “We were supposed to dance Slaughter together, actually. But Lupa …” she glanced back at the door. “It doesn't matter.”
Before Percy could say anything, she kept walking. He didn’t have time to ask what that was about, before he heard the voices from inside Lupa’s office steadily getting louder.
He recognized Reyna’s voice, but she was speaking in Spanish, so the words flew past Percy, too quickly for him to pick out anything meaningful. Lupa didn’t hesitate to respond, keeping her words Spanish as well.
Percy heard his name. Then Gwen’s. Then Jason’s.
“You promised me --!” Reyna said in English.
“I promised you nothing,” Lupa said, her voice back to an almost quiet speaking volume, pulling Reyna’s back down with her. “You are my star, Reyna. So I need you to learn to dance with Frank.”
“We need more tall men!” Reyna said.
“Or maybe we need shorter girls!” Lupa yelled back. Her voice went quiet again, cold and furious. “Get rid of this grudge Ms. Ramírez-Arellano before you end up back in the corps de ballet.”
Percy sensed that was the end of the conversation, and he took off down the hall before he could get caught eavesdropping. He ducked into his rehearsal studio. There was still a week of performances, and it was time for his rehearsal with Reyna. Percy waited for her to arrive, working hard to look like he hadn’t just heard her fighting Lupa, or heard Lupa fighting back.
The rehearsal studio was hot as the sun beat in, pressing oppressively on the back of his neck.
He waited.
After a few minutes, though, Reyna didn’t arrive. Lupa walked in instead with Rachel behind her.
“ Que calor!” Lupa said, smiling and fanning herself with her hand. She turned to the wall and made sure the AC was on. “We had a bit of a casting shake-up,” Lupa said. “I needed to pull Gwen from Tchai Pas and put Reyna in. I want to see how you do with Rachel in Slaughter. If it’s bad, we’ll put Reyna back in , ” she said.
Percy nodded. “Alright, I think we can handle it.”
Rachel smiled. “I’ll just need a quick refresh on the choreography, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
Lupa and the ballet master ran through the choreography again, and it gave Percy a good chance to reorient himself to Rachel’s shorter frame. He was used to dancing with her, but on pointe. The walk through helped him prepare.
“We’re going to run it with the hair change,” Lupa said to Rachel.
Rachel understood, and started pulling pins out of her bun. Rachel dug through her bag, dropping the loose pins in and pulling out a hair brush. She combed through the hairspray, freeing some of her curls. With her hair down and brushed out, she flipped it a few times before scooping it back up into a looser bun with fewer pins.
“We’ll see if that holds,” she said. Her red curls had always been hard to contain. Percy was about to say something, but she looked at him knowingly. “If you say anything about Merida, I’ll throw my hair brush at you,” she threatened, shaking the blue thing in his direction.
Percy put his hands up defensively. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Alright,” Lupa siad with a clap, “let's see how this goes.”
It was an immediate success. He and Reyna had danced it well, and they’d found a pretty natural rhythm together. Because he’d been so used to dancing it with her, Percy anticipated that switching to Rachel would cause some hiccups. But it didn’t. It felt as natural as dancing the Wedding Pas with Annabeth had that first time. Sure, there were differences between the partners, but to an onlooker, it seemed as if Percy and Rachel had always been dancing this ballet together.
Rachel ran the first part of the ballet. On the stage, she’d be doing it up on a platform, but here, she just stayed on the floor. She tossed away her shawl, her hair piece, and even her pink shoe to the men waiting to grab it. Then she disappeared, going to the back of the room, their temporary “backstage” where she took down her hair.
When she came back, they started their first pas de deux , the far more contained one. The tone of Slaughter might have been remarkably different from Tarantella, but Rachel was still just as fun to dance with. When they got to the second pas, the one with all the high kicks, Rachel didn’t hold anything back, and so Percy didn’t either. Maybe it was her hair, or maybe it was just who she was, but Rachel’s take on the character felt far more fiery than Reyna’s. Reyna’s take almost had a seductive Black Swan quality to it, but Rachel’s was more carefree in its sexuality.
Percy dipped her into the back bend, and Rachel did her high kicks as they marched. Percy stole a glance at them in the mirror, and they looked great.
When the dance ended a few minutes later, Percy and Rachel were playing dead as the music came to an end. Once the pianist completed the final notes, there was a long, terrible pause where Lupa said nothing. Percy started to move, assuming it was okay to get out of his death position. From the other side of the room, Rachel sat up as well.
Finally, Lupa smiled. “Well, that looked great! I don’t think I have anything to worry about with you two,” she said.
Percy let out a deep breath.
“So we’re on?” Rachel asked.
“Tonight and all the rest of Percy’s shows,” Lupa confirmed. “I’ll update the performance schedule.” With that, Lupa left them to the ballet masters.
They ran it for another hour, before Rachel was sent to try on the costume. She came back half an hour later, as Percy was running his tap solo at the end of the ballet.
“We’re going to sneak into the theater to practice the quick change, if you’d like to come and run the pas on the stage with Rachel?” Lupa offered.
The energy of the stage and costumes brought an added layer to the ballet. Rachel’s quick change always went off without a hitch, and their two pas ’s were almost perfect, as if they’d been dancing them the whole time. The two were literally alone on the stage -- the corps and other soloist performers would be there later, but this impromptu dress rehearsal was just for Rachel and Percy. With the stage and theater all to themselves, they just let go and danced as if this whole thing were just for fun. Percy even lost sight of where Lupa was in the theater. All of his attention was on Rachel and their dance.
~
With a few hours left before show time, Lupa sent them off to go eat something before coming back to the theater. The two sat outside at a cafe enjoying a light dinner, chatting about Slaughter and the rest of the company.
“I’m happy I get to dance with you again,” Rachel said. “I’ve always thought we would have made good partners, if we’d stayed in the same company.” Her eyes were fixed on her plate as she tore into a slice of bread and buttered it lightly.
“Me too, to both things,” Percy agreed. “And I am … sorry that things never worked out.”
Rachel tilted her head to the side. “You mean that you got your apprenticeship?” She laughed a little. “You got the thing every SAB kid wants, so don’t be sorry. I would have ditched you and stayed in New York too, if the roles were reversed.”
“You think I ditched you?” He asked.
“Of course not. I never took it personally,” she assured him. “How do you feel about Miami, though?”
“The company?” Rachel nodded. “It’s been great. I mean …getting to do Tarantella has just been a real dream. And, of course, it’s great to dance with you again.” Percy pushed some food around. “Lupa’s been really great to me so far, but it seems like things can get kind of intense sometimes.”
Rachel smiled at the complement, but then turned a bit serious. “Lupa can be incredibly supportive. She’s not afraid to give dancers what they want. I mean, full disclosure, I told her I remembered Tarantella being one of your favorites. She knew Hazel wanted to do the Swans, so she gave her Swan Lake to keep her in the company. She let me dance Coppelia when I was twenty.” She took a sip of her drink. “She’s a really good director.”
“But?” Percy asked.
“It can get a little kill or be killed,” Rachel said, shrugging. “She’s got a she-wolf side to her. Not that you’ve probably seen it, since you’re doing a great job,” she said smiling, and Percy didn’t mention what he’d heard earlier that day, “but she can be tough. And not in Chiron’s straight-forward, pragmatic way. Like,” she leaned in closer, “Gwen had a baby in November, and Lupa asked her to come back for this season. But she keeps putting Gwen in ballets, then pulling her out at the last minute, because she doesn’t think Gwen has lost enough weight yet. It’s why Reyna is doing Tchai Pas now. And Gwen is just devastated and humiliated. She wants to be home with her baby, but Lupa promised her all these ballets if she came back early, and she’s gotten to dance none of them on stage.”
Percy’s heart sank at that. He thought about mentioning his brief conversation with Gwen in the hallway, but he didn’t want to humiliate her anymore. Situations like that, though, were unfortunately common across companies. But Percy couldn’t think of a time Chiron had asked a dancer to come back early, only to deny them roles. In fact, he could only really think of the opposite, with Annabeth. She’d gotten more time off and then more roles on her return. But since his injuries, Chiron had always been cautious about dancers’ health and wellness.
“Why did Jason leave?” Percy asked.
Rachel took a deep breath. “He was Miami’s workhorse. He’s been here since he was, I think, nine years old. He was doing the work of a soloist when he was in the corps. He was doing the work of a principal when he was a soloist. When he got his New York offer, he called Lupa and asked for his Principal promotion. She’d done the same thing for Hazel. But … she just said she couldn’t do that, and that he wasn’t ready.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “None of us know how Jason couldn’t have been ready. He was already doing that work, but … “ she shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe he wasn’t ready, but at least as a soloist in New York he’s doing the work of a soloist for the pay of a soloist, not what Lupa was demanding of him here.”
Percy leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got more respect for Jason now, I guess.”
Rachel nodded. “We make fun of Reyna a lot for maybe being in love with him, but I don’t think she was. I think Jason was just the perfect dance partner for her, and I think she expected to dance the rest of her career with him. But Lupa just let him go. Reyna’s been dancing with Frank, and they’ve been doing a good job, but that perfect person is just gone. Jason and Reyna, they were like … Like Beckendorf and Annabeth, right? Just completely perfect and --- and did you know you get the dumbest look on your face every time someone mentions her name?”
Percy’s mind had wandered a bit at the mention of Annabeth, but the change in Rachel’s tone from concern to teasing brought him back to Earth.
“Huh?” He asked.
Rachel shook her head, smiling. “You are so in love with her, aren’t you?” She asked.
Percy’s face felt hot, but he didn’t bother denying it. “She’s really special,” he said.
“I’m happy for you,” Rachel said, reaching her hand across the table to Percy. “And I’m sorry we … I haven’t been the nicest about her.”
“Thanks,” he said, “and I think you’d like her if you got to know her. And now you two are the same rank, so there’s nothing to be jealous about,” he teased.
“I wouldn’t say nothing,” Rachel muttered, her cheeks pink as she sipped at her water. “I keep wondering what it might have been like if you’d come here with me.”
“I was happy to go to Miami with you,” Percy said. And he meant it. If there was someone at SAB he had to leave with, he was glad it was going to be her. “I was excited when I found out you were the other person from SAB who’d gotten the offer, and that we were going to go together. And I am sorry that didn’t happen.”
Rachel nodded, her green eyes turned down and sad. She didn’t brush off the apology like she had with the earlier one. “Yeah, me too,” she said. “But you will be a principal, Percy,” she looked up at him, her eyes clear, “I don’t know what Jason was lacking, but whatever it is, you aren’t lacking it.”
Percy smiled and thanked her.
“It’s just about time to get back,” he said.
Rachel nodded.
As they walked out together, heading back towards the theater in the last drawn out rays of sunset, she turned to him.
“You fit in really well here,” she said.
Percy just nodded, not sure what to say, but sure that he agreed.
~
Dancing Slaughter on stage with Rachel was almost as fun as dancing Tarantella with her. There was this old familiar feeling whenever he was on stage with her, and it made it easy to just let go and dance. The Sleeping Beauty and Agon had been stressful, every performance felt like it applied more and more pressure. But not here, not in these ballets. Here, Percy could just act and dance with his friend, and feed off of the rapturous applause of the audience.
Agon might have been a Balanchine ballet, but Slaughter and Tarantella really reminded him what he loved about Balanchine’s rep. They were so different. Different from Beauty, different from anything else.
As he held Rachel as she dipped back, her red curls hanging wildly, and her legs kicking up in the air, he felt like a Balanchine dancer for the first time in a while. Not a New York dancer, or Chiron’s dancer, just Balanchine’s.
~
His final week of performances seemed to pass in a blur. He got to dance with Rachel each night -- one night on for Tarantella and the next for Slaughter.
He couldn’t believe his time in Miami was already almost over, but as the days crept by, he started to get more and more excited to go home. He didn’t miss City Ballet too much -- dance was dance and he was doing plenty of it -- but he missed Annabeth. He desperately wanted to hold her again, kiss her. Each buzz of his phone brought a little bit of hope that it was her, but her messages had gotten fewer and farther between in the few days in Miami.
It only added to Percy’s desire to see her.
On his last night of performances, Lupa had scheduled him for both ballets in one night. He was glad Tarantella was first, otherwise, he didn’t think he’d have the energy for it. Slaughter wasn’t too demanding, but the idea of doing all those Tarantella jumps after another ballet seemed almost impossible.
“Our last Tarantella, ” Rachel lamented in her little peasant girl dress.
“Well, let's go out there and rock it. Make it count,” Percy said.
They did.
They did their turns contest, and on his final turn, he managed to make it around seven times, to thunderous applause. She did her final turn. One. Two. Three. Four. And then, a fifth. Percy beat his tambourine as a kind of praise before she started her series of pirouettes down the stage.
Percy clapped the tambourine as Rachel did her pirouettes, keeping time for her, and the audience started to clap along. It brought up the energy, and Rachel seemed to just turn faster and faster.
When she reached the end, they did their final steps, before starting their spins off the stage. Percy was completely out of breath. His legs hurt in impossible ways, and he was happy. He pulled Rachel into him right at the edge of the stage, and kissed her cheek, before letting her go. She ran off stage, and he followed, but not before beating the tambourine one last time against his chest and throwing his hands in the air in triumph.
They barely had the breath to come out for their bow, but they made it. Percy spotted someone in the audience standing for them, and soon the whole theater was on its feet, clapping for them.
Percy would have given them an encore if he could muster the stamina. But they simply took an extra long bow, before exiting the stage to get ready for Slaughter.
Slaughter was a very different vibe, but their energy was still up. Where Rachel had crazy fast spins and footwork in the last ballet, now she had high kicks. They weren’t quite as high or seemingly effortless as Reyna’s but there was still something flirty and fun about them. Her costume change went off without a hitch, and she was able to fling her red curls around with every bend, dip, and spin.
The fun and sexy energy came to an end with the titular slaughter, as Rachel took a “bullet” for him from her pimp, who Percy “killed” before killing himself. Despite the sudden tragedy, there was another eruption of thunderous applause from the audience.
They were the last ballet of the night, and it was Percy’s last ballet with Miami, and each performance had felt like one of the best of his life. Second only, he thought, to Sleeping Beauty, and even then, he wasn’t sure.
~
Back stage, Percy lifted Rachel in triumph, settling her on his shoulder as he gripped her thighs to hold her steady. They cheered as loud as they were willing. They hadn’t changed yet, so Percy’s tap shoes made a little click with each step, and the fringe from Rachel’s stripper costume tickled his hand.
He was done in Miami, he realized. Not that he didn’t know that going into the day, but the reality of it was starting to settle in. All of the friends he’d made, and the good times he had here were over. He had tomorrow off to see some more of the city, and then he was back on an airplane to New York. And the day after that, New York’s Spring season rehearsals started.
Before he could think about all the good things about New York, one of those good things arrived in front of him.
“Percy, someone is here to see you,” Hazel said.
Just past her was Annabeth, her blonde hair down and brushed to one side. She was in a white linen dress with brown buttons down the center, with a light blue sweater pulled over her arms and shoulders. She had a bouquet of blue and purple hydrangeas in her hand.
Percy placed Rachel on the floor, and immediately lost all sense of where she was next to him. At that moment, it felt like he and Annabeth were the only ones in the world. He suddenly felt a collection of words nearly rise up into his mouth, as his heart beat somehow got faster than it had on stage, and his face felt flushed. It was like feeling that sense of freedom. He couldn’t describe it, but he knew it right away. He pushed the words back down -- I love you -- knowing it would be an insane thing to say to her now, after so little time together, and so much time apart. Instead, he said: “Oh, thank god.”
He’d caught a frightened and suspicious look in her eyes when she’d seen him carrying around Rachel in her skimpy Slaughter costume . But that look disappeared as Percy rushed forward towards her. Hazel deftly took the flowers out of Annabeths’ hands as Percy nearly crashed into Annabeth.
Percy rested his hands on her face, making eye contact for a moment, as if looking for permission to be completely public with their affections. Annabeth responded by pulling on the front of his costume, down towards her mouth.
Annabeth didn’t pull away when Rachel said, “Pretty flowers,” presumably to Hazel. If anything, Annabeth only kissed Percy harder, laying her claim to him. He remembered that she’d once accused herself of being jealous. He’d tease her for this later, he decided, for now, he would enjoy having a beautiful woman fight for him.
Finally, though, Annabeth did pull away, letting go of Percy’s costume.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said to her, his voice low, only for her.
Her hands were still on his chest. “You’ve been so excited about Tarantella, I wanted to see it. Percy, you were amazing.”
Percy was going to say something else, but he heard Frank clear his throat next to them. Percy’s face still felt red, and only got more red when he saw that Rachel, Hazel, and Frank were all standing there.
“This is Annabeth,” Percy said, “this is Rachel, and Frank, and you know Hazel.”
“Good to see you again, Hazel,” Annabeth said. Hazel agreed and handed back the flowers, before pulling Frank away. Annabeth handed Percy the flowers. “These are for you,” she said. Percy accepted them gladly, but noticed Rachel had stayed where she was.
“It’s so good to meet you, Annabeth,” Rachel said, “or, I guess, see you again. We went to school together.”
Annabeth looked her over. “We did?”
“I was in Percy’s year,” Rachel said, “but all three of us were in the same pas de deux class.”
Annabeth nodded. “Oh yeah,” she said in a way that convinced Percy she had absolutely no memory of Rachel.
“Sorry about the outfit,” Rachel said, gesturing to her costume. She rested her hands on Percy’s shoulder. “I was playing a whore.”
“Was it hard?” Annabeth asked.
“Hey!” Percy said, turning to Annabeth, who looked away from him, her mouth pressed shut in a hard line and her jaw tense. Before things could get worse, Percy turned towards Rachel, shaking her hands off him in the process. “I’ll meet up with you guys in a little bit?” He said.
Rachel nodded. But as she turned, Lupa walked up behind them.
“Ah, there you are Percy,” she said. Lupa’s eyes landed on Annabeth, who stood up straighter. “Ms. Chase, is it?”
Annabeth held out her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Jason speaks highly of you,” she said.
“You in New York are lucky to have him.” There was something different in Lupa’s tone. The warmth was there, but something felt phony about it. Percy looked between Lupa and Annabeth, their gazes both piercing, but their smiles and tones polite.
“I saw your Sleeping Beauty performance,” Lupa continued, “fine work. You certainly are one of Chiron’s dancers.” Percy didn’t know what that could mean, but it sounded backhanded. Whatever the subtle insult was, Annabeth caught it as well, and pressed her lips together into a thin smile.
“I’m very proud to be one of his dancers,” Annabeth said. “And we’re all looking forward to having Percy back with us.”
“Actually, before you steal Mr. Jackson away from us,” he turned to Percy, “I was hoping to speak to you in my office.”
~
Like everything else in Miami, Lupa’s office was warm. There were several pictures on the walls, all of them of a young Lupa dancing on stage. Percy knew that stage better than he knew most places in New York.
Of course, he didn’t need to recognize the theater and stage to know she’d been a principal in New York City Ballet. She’d danced there for nearly thirty years before retiring. She was one of the last great dancers to work with Balanchine himself. Her and Chiron.
When she’d retired, she’d gotten a job offer from Miami, and she promptly abandoned her position as a ballet master with NYCB. It worked out for her well enough; it wasn’t long before she was artistic director and reinventing the company entirely.
In one black and white photo, she was posed in a fish dive with a dancer who felt eerily familiar.
“That’s Chiron,” she said, “as you might have figured out. He was quite the dancer back in the day.”
A series of repeat back injuries had ended Chiron’s career, and then a botched surgery had left him all but wheelchair bound. Percy knew he still had some use of his legs, and could stand and walk when he needed to, cane in hand. But these days, he mostly stuck to the chair.
“I’ve seen some videos of you,” Percy said. “I actually used to own a tape of Serenade, and you were the Russian girl.” He still mourned that old VHS Mr. Lester had given him and that Gabe had destroyed.
Lupa smiled. “One of my constant parts. And he was one of my constant partners. I bet you can guess the ballet there,” she said, pointing to the picture of her and Chiron. Percy knew that fish dive anywhere. Look ma, Lupa and Chiron’s younger selves seemed to say to him through the frame, no hands!
“ Sleeping Beauty? ” He guessed.
She nodded. “I don’t want to leave you with the impression that I don’t like Chiron. He was a dear friend of mine. We’ve just always disagreed on certain things. And, in the last decade or so, I’m afraid we’ve gotten a bit competitive.”
“I’ve heard you don’t think he’s using Balanchine’s rep to its full potential,” Percy said.
Lupa just nodded. “That he has never cast you in Tarantella is completely unbelievable.”
“Maybe this will teach him something,” Percy suggested. He knew Chiron was working on finalizing the Winter, and Spring seasons for next year already. Maybe he’d find Tarantella on there somewhere.
“Maybe,” Lupa said. She took a seat behind the desk and gestured at Percy to sit down. “But I want you to know that New York is not your only option.”
“What do you mean?” Percy asked.
Lupa smiled. “I have been very, very happy with your work here this month, Percy. I’ve always thought you were a strong, capable dancer. Your work with Rachel and Reyna was exquisite. You are a perfect leading man.”
Percy sat quietly and waited for her to finish.
“We at Miami Ballet are prepared to offer you a company contract,” she said.
“Oh, that’s very nice, but --”
“It would be a principal contract, Percy.”
He had been completely ready to turn down a soloist contract. But a principal contract? He hadn’t expected it. This kind of offer was … he tried to think of another dancer who’d been given a new company contract and promotion, and he came up blank. His heart started to beat faster as he imagined it -- leading ballets, being billed as a principal, finally having that rank he’d waited and worked so long for. And in a company that gave him ballets he was actually suited for. Real, exciting Balanchine ballets. Not just Opus over and over again.
He could have it. It was everything.
“Oh,” was all he managed to say.
“I have wanted you in my company for eight years, Percy. It is long past time you were given the recognition you deserve, and the rank you’ve earned. Miami is prepared to welcome you into their Fall Season as our newest principal dancer.” When Percy still didn’t say anything, she added. “Miami is the perfect fit for you.”
~
Percy stepped out of Lupa’s office a bit dazed. Rachel and Annabeth were outside the door waiting for him in silence. Rachel was smiling; Annabeth was not. Percy wondered if they’d been able to hear the conversation, or if they both just suspected what Lupa had wanted to talk to him about.
“She …” he looked away from Rachel’s wide smile to Annabeth, “she offered me a principal contract.”
He heard Rachel celebrate, offering him an immediate and excited, “Oh Percy that’s so great,” but his eyes were only on Annabeth as her neutral facade shattered into a look of utter devastation that broke his heart. But she quickly pulled her face into a forced grin. She leaned forward, resting a hand on his arm.
“That’s really, really incredible, Percy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you,” Annabeth said. She started to speak again but her voice cracked. Annabeth cleared her throat, keeping her head down so Percy couldn’t see the tears in her eyes, but he knew they were there. “I am so happy for you.”
Annabeth turned away quickly and headed down the hall. Percy knew she didn’t know where she was going; she was just looking for anywhere else to go.
“I’ll let you deal with her,” Rachel said, “but we should go out and celebrate.”
“Yeah, sure,” Percy said noncommittally as he took off down the hall after Annabeth.
She was already far down a dark hallway, her fast footsteps the only sound.
“Annabeth!” Percy called after her.
“How the hell do I get out of here?” She asked.
Percy jogged to catch up to here. “Here,” he said, leading her down another hallway in silence until they reached the building exit.
Annabeth was taking off down the stairs before the humid night air had hit Percy’s face. She had her phone out, ready to call a car as he shouted her name.
“Are you going to tell Chiron?” She asked, finally pausing and turning to face him. Her face was tense, her gray eyes piercing in the nighttime lights of the city. They were completely dry, filled only with anger and a tense, scrutinizing glare.
“That you called Rachel Dare a whore?” Percy asked. He was still annoyed about that, but she didn’t make any effort to defend herself or apologize. She just narrowed her gray eyes at him, a cold scrutinizing gaze, as she waited for his real answer. “Yeah, I’ll have to tell him about the contract, I guess.”
“You should do it as soon as you can. It might push him to make a counter offer,” she said, her tone calm and calculating, as if to say don’t worry, I’ve figured out how to get us out of this.
But Percy shook his head. “I don’t know if it would make a difference,” he said.
Annabeth’s eyes narrowed again. “Why the hell wouldn’t it make a difference?” She asked,
“Lupa has wanted me in her company since I was eighteen. Chiron only gave me the apprenticeship when he thought I was going somewhere else. I don’t want my principal contract to be earned the same way,” he said.
Annabeth scoffed. “Chiron didn’t give you an apprenticeship to spite Lupa. He never offered Rachel Dare a contract. If he offers you a promotion now it’s because you’ve earned it, and you should be dancing in New York,” she said. “Luke’s spot still hasn’t been filled, and you are the only man in the company qualified for it.”
“Well, maybe I don’t just want whatever Luke left behind,” he said. He regretted his phrasing right away. Annabeth's eyes went wide, and she almost laughed as she took steps back and away from him.
“That’s not what I meant,” he tried to say, running down the few steps to grab her hand and turn her around. “I just meant I am wanted in Miami. They made a space for me.”
“You are wanted in New York, Percy,” she yelled at him, her face tight with anger.
“But what if I’m not? What if I walk into Chiron’s office in two days, and he says ‘Congratulations, bon voyage!’ What then?” He asked, trying to match the intensity of her gaze.
But it wasn’t working. He wasn’t finding anger. Anger he knew so well. He knew how to be angry like he knew how to dance. But this feeling was different and distant. Old, but somehow still familiar. Whatever it was had started to prick something behind his eyes.
“Then this is over,” Annabeth said very simply. “Then you go to Miami, and what we have is done.”
His eyes started to itch now. “Don’t give me ultimatums, Annabeth,” he said.
“It’s not an ultimatum, it’s reality,” she said. She pressed her lips together to stop them from shaking; he could hear sadness start to bleed through her anger.
“It doesn’t have to be,” he said.
“It does. Miami and New York’s seasons don’t line up. There’s, what? Two months in the summer we’d be able to see each other? Our relationship wouldn’t last the year,” she said.
“You’re the one always saying it’s going to end,” Percy reminded her. “You were with a man for ten years, but you can’t fathom being with me for five months!” He shouted.
Annabeth shook her head. Whatever sadness he’d heard in her voice was crushed under a chilling anger. “I don’t know why this is so hard for you to understand. It’s just what makes the most sense,” she said.
Percy’s mouth felt dry, and he felt like he’d swallowed a golf ball. That strange feeling hadn’t gone away, it had just made a home in his chest and in the front of his face. He felt himself tear up, but he couldn’t push it away like he usually did. Oh, he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, I’m going to cry.
“It doesn’t make any sense that I have to choose between the thing I’ve spent half my life working for and,” he looked at her. Her anger had melted away. She was just looking at him, full of pity, her own eyes suddenly damp too, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth, trying to hold it back. Where she was successful, Percy wasn’t. “And you.”
He felt tears on his face, and he wiped them away quickly, but they didn’t seem to stop. “Christ,” he muttered, his gaze down towards the gray stairs under them.
Annabeth just stepped closer and pulled him into a tight hug. Percy hugged back, trying to not sob at least. He just took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of her shampoo and perfume, the warmth of her body, and the soft touch of her skin. He felt her hand on the small of his back, holding him close to her, the press of her palm perceivable even through the thick material of the costume he was still wearing. He wanted to tether himself to that touch, to never let her go. Somehow he knew that even if she left right now, and he never saw her again, he’d be tied to her for the rest of his life.
He imagined their future: her, the director of City Ballet, him the director in Miami. Always competing for dancers. Shit talking one another to their dancers. Poisoning each other’s wells. Would she hang a photo from their Sleeping Beauty on her wall one day?
The phone in her hand buzzed, and she pulled away. They were silent for a moment, before Annabeth leaned in and kissed him. There wasn’t passion, or anything to affirm to Percy that he had somehow come out on top, that there was anyway to have both her and Miami at the same time. No, he knew what the kiss was for. He knew it was the last one. And still, he hoped he was wrong.
“That’s my car,” she said, when she pulled away.
“Annabeth,” he started to say, but he didn’t have anywhere else for the sentence to go.
“I’m choosing for you,” she said. “You’re going to go get a mojito with your friends. If you want to, you can sleep with hot Miami girls tonight, tomorrow, whenever. And you can start learning to enjoy your life without me.”
She started down the stairs towards the car.
“Annabeth!” He yelled. She turned. “I thought we weren’t supposed to give up,” he said.
She smiled sadly, and just shrugged her shoulders. Percy noticed again just how golden her hair looked under street lights.
“This isn’t Agon,” she reminded him. “And we were never lovers.”
“But!” He caught her attention one more time, “you’ll always be my friend. I’m always in your corner.”
She nodded. “And I’m in yours. Goodbye Percy.”
He watched her get into the car, her golden hair disappearing behind the dark windows. Percy sat on the cold, damp steps, his legs exhausted, his mind weary, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he wept.
Notes:
Annabeth: Hey, is this a bad time to mention my crippling fears of abandonment?
Percy spending a month repairing Annabeth's reputation in Miami, only for her to show up and say the meanest possible thing to a total stranger is (maybe) my favorite part of this story.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that. I've been sitting on that final scene since the beginning of July.
Tarantella: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETBeKIA8x9E
Slaughter: (This is from the film "On Your Toes," and Balanchine rechoreographed parts for the stage later) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFSK5KXSR4A
Other Slaughter stage clips: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJKdtdpYDrY and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUJYnL_Qwak and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPpoXLrHLB4
Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux (Tchai Pas): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZReWmCvuyPU
Chapter 12: Coda
Summary:
Coda: the concluding section of a ballet, especially the final part of a pas de deux.
Notes:
Fully intended to wait more than two days to post this one, but it was taking up too much space in my brain. I need to get back to writing my dissertation rip
It will be longer to wait before chapter 13, but it's mostly an extended epilogue, so hopefully the wait won't be agony.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Percy heard footsteps behind him, and he tried to wipe his eyes as quickly as he could.
“Hey,” he said, trying to play it casual.
“I thought I’d come see if you were okay,” Frank said. He sat next to Percy. “Hazel is holding back the small army of people hoping to be the first one to offer you comfort,” he said. “I’m sorry. About Annabeth.”
Percy just nodded, swallowing his sadness as best he could. “Yeah, it sucks,” was all he managed to say.
Frank just held open his arms. “Want a hug?” He offered.
Percy nodded, and Frank pulled him in tight. Percy's voice broke as he finally confessed, “I think I love her.”
“I know,” Frank said. “It’s so hard. Last year, when I thought Hazel was going to stay in New York with Alvin Ailey … it almost killed me.”
Percy pulled back, letting Frank out of the hug. “Would you have ever forgiven her if she had stayed?”
Frank nodded. “If it’s what she wanted, I’d never have been able to stay mad at her. Annabeth won’t hate you either.” Percy just stared at the ground and shook his head. “And if it hurts this bad to leave her behind, maybe Miami isn’t the right spot.”
“It is,” Percy said, “everything about here feels good, and I want that contract, it’s just … she’s something else. I’ll always have my family if I’m here, even if they’re far away. I was ready to move away from them at eighteen if I needed to. But Annabeth …”
“I get it. Girls like her and Hazel are special,” Frank said.
“Would you do it? Go to another company if it meant losing Hazel?” Percy asked.
Frank shrugged. “They’d need to offer me everything I’d ever wanted.”
Percy stared out towards the road, where Annabeth had left. “Lupa just did.”
“Maybe not everything,” Frank suggested. “C’mon, let Hazel and me take you out for a drink. We’ll hide you from everyone hoping to offer you comfort. You can talk this through with us, or we can take your mind off it, whatever you need.”
Percy accepted Frank's offer.
~
When Frank went to the bar to get their third round, Percy turned to Hazel.
“Do you ever regret staying in Miami?” He asked.
She took a deep breath. “I wonder a lot what my life would be like if I stayed in New York. It will always be a huge what if. But I trained her. I worked my ass off to get here. I earned my promotion and Swan Lake.”
“And Frank?” Percy asked.
“He told me to stay with Alvin Ailey, if it made me happy,” she said. Hazel reached a hand across the sticky bar table, and Percy took it. “Annabeth thinks she’s doing something kind . And she is. I know how much that conversation hurts to have, trust me. But you cannot let her be part of this decision. It’s your career. If you make a choice just for her, you’ll only resent her if it turns out to not be what you wanted.”
“But Jason and Reyna --”
“Are best friends. They still talk. She’s not mad at him. She’s pissed as hell that Lupa isn’t hiring a taller dancer, but she’s not mad at Jason,” Hazel promised. “Just … make your decision, and then work it out with Annabeth, okay? She won’t stay mad at you forever.”
~
The strong drinks at Calypso’s with Frank and Hazel hadn’t helped him make up his mind at all. Or, rather, his mind hadn’t changed from it has to be Miami. He just hadn’t figured out how to cope with losing Annabeth.
He’d called his mom the next morning, trying to sound as excited as possible. She tried to match the tone, but it seemed like the idea of him moving to Miami did nothing but hurt two of the three most important women in his life.
“Estelle will be happy for you,” his mom assured him, “she’ll get the bigger bedroom now.” They both forced a laugh.
There were no more performances or classes to take at Miami, just one last free day to see the city.
Rachel took him out to brunch, and Percy sipped on black coffee, nursing a headache and remembering why he didn’t like to drink too much.
“She really just ended it?” Rachel asked.
Percy nodded. “I get that long distance is hard, and we were barely together before I came here but …”
“You would have been willing to try it?” Rachel finished for him.
Percy picked at his eggs. “Yeah. For her? Absolutely.”
Rachel flagged down the waiter and ordered them two mimosas. Percy only managed a few sips, before he slid it to Rachel for her to finish.
“And you wouldn’t stay in New York?” Rachel asked.
Percy shrugged. “That’s what I told her. I don’t know … maybe it would be different if New York’s offer was real, but it isn’t. It’s just something Annabeth thought would happen.”
“It’s your career, Percy. She shouldn’t be mad at you for making the necessary choices for it,” Rachel said.
“I don’t think she’s mad at me. I think she wants me to be happy. It’s just that if I’m happy here then I can’t be happy with her,” Percy said.
I’m deciding for you, she’d said, removing herself from Percy’s choice so that he could pick his career without her messing things up. She wouldn’t let him choose her over his career, even if it meant both of them leaving heartbroken. Annabeth was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’ll ruin it, she’d warned him. And before they could ruin everything together, she’d run off and done it herself. He wanted to be angry at her, or find some cold, uncaring words to say about her, but all he could think about were her gray eyes, resolute and sure, even as she started to cry.
“Maybe you give her too much credit,” Rachel suggested. “Maybe it is better this way.”
Percy couldn’t agree. He just slouched back in his chair, one hand over his eyes to block out the light.
By sunset he was ready to be alone. His friends in Miami had taken him out to dinner -- one last round of shots at Calypso’s. Reyna noticed the sick look on his face when the waitress set down the tray of silver tequila. She took his shot from him and dumped it into her margarita, before filling his shot glass back up with water.
“Thanks,” Percy muttered.
The group was going to stick around after dinner for more drinks and maybe a trip to a karaoke bar, but Percy decided to just go home. He had an early flight. He left them all with a big hug, and they toasted to their newest company member.
He went back to his AirBNB, packed everything he’d brought with him, and did his best to get some sleep.
He was leaving Miami with everything he’d ever wanted. And he’d never felt worse.
~
His plane left early in the morning, and by noon he was in his apartment again. Stella was at school, his parents at work. He’d be alone until nearly four at least. He dropped his suitcase in his room, not bothering to unpack it, before flopping down on the couch, not even moving to turn on the TV.
NYCB Spring season rehearsals started the next day. Two weeks of A Midsummer Night's Dream opened the season. Another full length ballet. He’d looked over his schedule on the plane. He had been slotted to learn Lysander, Demetrius, Puck, and Theseus. Percy knew he would likely only be cast in one, maybe two, of the roles. He’d only had corps and minor soloist roles in Midsummer before. He almost felt something like hope to see he’d been slotted to learn more principal roles. He’d have to remember to ask Paul about the plot and the four men he’d been slotted to learn. No way was he reading a Shakespeare play by tomorrow.
And then he remembered it didn’t matter what roles he got. He was only with New York for one more season anyway.
He closed his eyes, trying to let his mind settle. He had a dull headache from the plane, two days of “goodbye for now” drinks, and the stress of not crying over a girl who’d never even officially been his girlfriend.
The universe didn’t want him to have a moment of peace though. His phone buzzed.
Chiron Brunner.
Chiron hardly ever called from his personal number, or called at all. Here we go, Percy though.
“Hello?” He said.
“Percy, are you back in New York?”
“Yeah, I just got home,” he said.
“Great, do you think you could pop down to my office?”
“When?”
“As soon as you can.”
~
Percy took two Advil and headed back down, catching the downtown 1 train to Lincoln Center right as the doors closed.
The hallways were mostly empty, with most dancers enjoying their final day off. When Percy found Chiron’s office, the door was open.
“There you are,” he said. “Come in, Percy.”
Percy shut the door behind him. He suddenly felt seventeen again, just a student waiting to find out his future from the man who held it in his hands. But , Percy reminded himself, you know your future.
He nervously glanced around the room. Chiron had fewer photos of himself up on the walls than Lupa did of herself; mostly he had pictures from the last fifteen years of dancers he’d directed in the company. Percy spotted one of Annabeth and Beckendorf, only nineteen and twenty-one, dancing the Romeo and Juliet Chiron had choreographed himself . Next to it was a new photo. It was him and Annabeth in that same Sleeping Beauty fish dive.
“I never thought I’d make it onto the wall,” Percy said.
Chiron smiled. “I’m not surprised. It’s a tribute to my greatest achievements,” he said. “Your Sleeping Beauty was certainly one of them.”
Percy spotted a third photo of Annabeth. She looked so young; she was in the green Sugar Plum tutu, and Lee Fletcher was her cavalier. He wondered if it was from that very first performance she’d told him about.
“Annabeth is in a lot of them,” Percy said.
“Yes, of course,” Chiron said. Percy felt Chiron’s suspicious gaze on him. “Should she not be?” He asked. But to Percy it sounded like Has Lupa already gotten the better of you?
“Of course she should be up there,” Percy clarified. He pointed to the picture of him and Annabeth in Sleeping Beauty. “You know, Lupa has a picture of the two of you in the same pose in her office?”
Chiron smiled. “Believe it or not, we used to work very well together,” he said. “Mr. B paired us together himself.” It was always surreal to Percy to hear how casually Chiron talked about Balanchine. In Percy’s mind, the man was a legend, a god. But to Chiron it was just Mr. B, as familiar to him as Percy was with Chiron.
Percy thought about asking what happened between him and Lupa, but Chiron gestured for him to sit down. Percy did.
“When I decided to offer Jason Grace a contract, I called Lupa ahead of time, as a courtesy,” he started. Percy’s heart beat faster. “She did the same for me. I wasn’t surprised that she saw you were ready to be a principal. I’ve seen the same thing in you since Sleeping Beauty rehearsals started.”
Percy’s mouth hung open slightly, but he couldn’t find any words, or even move his body.
“Her offer made it easier for me to put pressure on the board to finalize your new contract. The pay should be competitive with anything Lupa is willing to offer you, but if it’s an issue, we may be able to negotiate something higher.”
Chiron slid a manila folder across his desk to Percy. He opened it. The pages inside were fastened to the top, holding the contract in place. Percy’s dyslexia made some of the words swirl, but he managed to focus his eyes on the most important ones. Chiron had taken the liberty of highlighting them in yellow for him. New York City Ballet. Percy Jackson. Rank: Principal.
“I hope you’ll consider both offers carefully,” Chiron said. And then, he spoke more warmly, less all-business. “You should know, this has been long in the works, since well before you went to Miami. I always believed you were capable of making it this far, Percy, it was just a matter of …”
“Of what?” Percy asked. “This happened the last time, too. When I got into Miami as a teenager, my apprenticeship materialized. Why now? Why again?”
Chiron nodded. “I understand this might be confusing. I apologize for the strange parallel circumstances. When you were seventeen, you had so much promise. But it was untested. You didn’t have as much training as everyone else, but that didn’t hold you back on a technical level. But it always held you back mentally. I wasn’t sure how reliable you could be, or if you’d have the mental strength to sustain yourself in a company. That extra year at SAB, and the experience you gained in auditions, it changed something in you. You had always been so willing to hide in the background, so unsure of your own talent. But once you were really tested, I started to see the dancer you would be. That apprenticeship contract was all but guaranteed halfway through your final year in the school. In less than a year, you had truly come into your own as a young dancer.
“And then in the company, you were reliable. Stable. Strong. But you started to see yourself as an understudy, and nothing more. You started to slip into the corps, into the shadows. You were always talented, but I never knew if you were really ready to step up. You proved yourself reliable and adaptable in Opus. You had a star power to you that first night. You were no one’s understudy. You could take a role and make it your own, you could be adaptable, moving into roles on short notice, and dance them as if you’d rehearsed for weeks. You were the ideal soloist.
“But a soloist isn’t a principal. You were adaptable and strong, but you didn't have that confidence. The Sleeping Beauty turned out to be the perfect test. When Beckendorf went out, it became clear early on that you were the perfect fit to replace him. But I was worried you’d only think of yourself as his replacement. If you did think that way, it didn’t show in your dancing. From that first rehearsal to the final bow, you were clean, confident, and everyone could tell Annabeth trusted you one hundred percent. After that first show, I started working on your principal contract. But, these things take time. And Lupa was there for those first few shows. To see Jason, I thought. But she and I have always had the same eye for dancers. She must have seen you and known you were ready. And she tried to steal you out from under us.”
“The same eye for dancers,” Percy repeated. He doubted Lupa felt that way. “That’s what you said when you gave me my apprenticeship.”
“Hmm,” Chiron hummed, “it remains true.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “I wouldn’t give you this contract if I didn’t think you were ready, or if I didn’t think you’d earned it. If I thought Miami was giving you the better offer, or if I thought that was the right place for you to dance, I would encourage you to go. But I’m not. You’re a talented dancer Percy, and you should stay in New York.”
“You said that the last time too,” Percy said.
“That’s still true too,” Chiron said. “If you do choose Miami, you will always be welcomed back here with open arms. There won’t be bad blood. But think on it carefully.”
“Would you be offering me this if Luke Castellan hadn’t been fired?” Percy asked.
Chiron raised a curious eyebrow at him; the public narrative had been that Luke retired. Percy’s verb choice told Chiron I know what he did to Annabeth. But Chiron didn’t dwell on it.
“You are not Luke Castellan's replacement. Jason Grace was Luke’s replacement. They have a similar look, they’re the same height. Firing Luke freed up the money to offer Jason a contract. You are not the replacement for him.” He paused. “You are no one’s replacement. You, Percy Jackson, are completely singular. And if you’re going to be a successful principal, I need you to start thinking of yourself as such.”
Percy looked down at the contract, and thought about what Chiron had said. He had spent almost a year working for Luke’s position. So many men in the company were fighting for it. But it had already been filled. So his contract … he ran his fingers over the brass fastener at the top of the pages, leaving smudged fingerprints behind.
Miami had made space for him. They wanted him in the company. It had been so easy to imagine taking that offer when he thought New York never would.
I don’t think it would make a difference, he remembered himself saying to Annabeth. Percy closed his eyes. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference if the contract had materialized only out of Chiron’s desire to spite Lupa. But it hadn’t. Annabeth had been right. They were going to make him a principal for his dancing in Sleeping Beauty. And Percy had been wrong. This contract did make a difference. It at least mattered in his decision making. He felt the world shift as his decision became much less easy to make.
Percy summoned his confidence and said: “If I stay, I want to do Tarantella.”
Chiron almost laughed. “That sounds like a fair request. I can make it happen. Lupa will probably demand some kind of compensation for stealing her program lineup, though. Ms. McLean has already demanded Slaughter be part of her contract.”
Percy smiled when he realized what Chiron was implying. He and Piper were being promoted.
“Annabeth is never wrong,” Percy said under his breath, but Chiron heard him.
“In all my years of knowing her, I’ve only ever known Annabeth to be wrong about one big thing. And even then … It wasn't her fault.” Chiron almost sounded guilty, like he knew he could have done more to protect her. The room got quiet, then, and Chiron’s gaze turned towards the photos on the wall. Chiron smiled.
Percy followed Chiron’s gaze, and looked at the photo of him and Annabeth on his wall. They were two of Chiron’s greatest achievements. Percy couldn’t help but smile too.
“When do I need to make a decision?” Percy asked.
“Well, it depends on Miami’s timeline, but your contract with us expires at the end of Spring. So, by then, I suppose,” Chiron said. “Now, go get some rest. You’ve had a long month, and I don’t want you getting injured.”
Percy nodded, took the folder, and headed out of the office.
~
Percy stared at the folder in his hand, worried it might just disappear if he took his eyes off of it for one moment. Miami wanted him. They’d always seen something in him that Chiron has hesitated on. They wanted to make him a principal on only a few minutes of dancing alone. But New York …
He thought of his future again -- him in Miami, running things down there, far away from Annabeth, their affection for each other long-since soured.
But he didn’t want to run Miami City Ballet, he reminded himself. He didn’t want to run New York City Ballet for that matter. Maybe he would even enjoy dancing in Miami for the rest of his career. Jason seemed to be enjoying his change. Maybe Percy could enjoy his.
But maybe it didn’t matter where he danced. What mattered to him more was where he lived his life.
What he held in his hand was the thing he’d really worked so hard for. This contract, with this company, in his city. He wanted to make a change for everyone else here too. He couldn’t do that from Miami. Sure, he could teach Miami kids, but he didn’t know Miami. He couldn’t teach a new generation of New York kids who never would have danced otherwise, the way Miss Hestia had. He couldn’t take his sister to dance class and introduce dozens of girls to ballet superstars like Annabeth. He couldn’t have dinner with his family. He’d have to leave his friends behind.
He thought about Hazel, and how thoroughly she’d asked about New York last year. And then he thought about how happy she looked at Calypso’s. Everyone, even Hazel herself, seemed to attribute her staying to Lupa bribing her with a principal contract and Swan Lake. But maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe she didn’t make the choice because of Frank alone, but he wasn’t the only person in Miami she loved.
Percy looked at the subway tracks in front of him. A rat the size of a small cat was dragging a hot dog in its mouth down into the dark tunnel. He hadn’t seen that in Miami. He looked at that enormous rat and realized Lupa could never actually offer him everything.
The folder was still in his hand. He flipped it open and read those key words again. New York City Ballet. Percy Jackson. Rank: Principal .
“Yeah, okay,” he said to the rat, before turning away and running up the stairs to the other side of the subway stop as the downtown 1 train pulled in.
~
Percy slipped into Annabeth’s building as someone was leaving. He had her apartment number, but it took some running up and down the halls to actually find the door. Finally, though, he found 415, and then double checked he hadn’t read the number wrong. She’d texted him the new address when she signed the lease three weeks ago, when they still expected him to come back from Miami as if nothing had changed.
Everything had changed since then, but maybe it had finally changed for the better.
He knocked.
When Annabeth opened the door, she looked annoyed to see him, like him arriving at her apartment was interrupting her being mad at him. Still, her hand went to her hair, tucking back and smoothing out some front pieces, and tucking loose strands into the clip that held most of it at the back of her head. She was still in her pajamas -- just sweats and hoodie with the name of her dance school in Virginia -- and her glasses.
Yeah, he thought admiring her, a smile already blooming on his face, she’s completely singular.
“You don’t get to decide for me,” he said.
She stepped aside and let him in. Her apartment still had a few boxes left to unpack, and only seemed half decorated. Her coffee table was covered in pointe shoes that she was in the middle of sewing; her TV was on, the volume low. When he turned to her, her arms were crossed, and she stood a good distance away from him, her face stern and solemn.
“What’s left to decide, Percy? You’ve made your choice clear, and I’ve made mine,” she said.
“Annabeth …” Percy said, taking a step closer. She stepped back. Percy held out the folder. If I go here, he tried to ask, will you follow?
She reached forward, grabbing it out of his hand. “What is this?”
“Look at it.”
She flipped it open. Percy’s heart pounded as her eyes scanned over the words, before she finally lifted her head. She looked completely unsurprised.
“Chiron finally offered it to you,” she said. Her face was unreadable, only the rapid rise and fall of her chest under her shirt gave Percy any kind of hope that it wasn’t too late.
“Apparently it was in the works before I left,” he said. He was trying and failing to match her neutrality. He couldn’t help but smile. Everything he ever wanted was in New York, right in front of him.
“I thought it didn’t matter,” she reminded him.
Percy shrugged. “I was wrong. Of course it matters,” he said. He stepped closer to her, and she didn’t back away.
“But what about Miami actually wanting you, appreciating you?” She asked.
“I was wrong about that too. They do want me, and dancing there was great. But you were right. Chiron wouldn’t keep me out of spite. City Ballet does want me in their company. They do appreciate me. Chiron made space for me. And everything I have ever wanted is in New York,” Percy said, taking another step towards her. “Why would I ever give that up?”
“Even if it’s just the stuff Luke left behind?” Annabeth asked.
“Luke Castellan is an abusive asshole who got dumped and fired in the same week. It’s not stuff he left, it’s what he lost.” He rested a hand on her face. “I’m so sorry I said that to you. You were never what I meant. I promise, I won’t lose you.”
Annabeth’s facade finally broke. She let herself smile, the faintest little whisper of hope, as her eyes filled with tears.
“You’re staying in New York?” She asked, her voice quiet, a few tears escaping to trace lines down her cheeks.
His hand was still resting on her face, and he used his thumb to brush away a tear.
“Yes,” he said.
“You promise?” She asked. He held up his pinky, and she almost laughed as she twisted hers around his.
“Yes,” he said again, “so, Annabeth Chase, can I please, please finally take you out to dinner?”
She dropped the contract on her coffee table, her tears halting, before she tangled both of her hands in his hair. “Oh you can do so much more than that,” she said, before pulling him down into a kiss.
Whatever invisible boundaries had been set up between them crumbled. There were no worries about Luke or Miami; everything that had held them back had gotten so, so small it was inconsequential. Percy pressed his hands into her back, the way he did in a pas de deux right before a lift. She took the familiar cue and jumped. He caught her, holding onto her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his hips.
They moved together in perfect time, matching each other as though they were a single person. They didn’t need choreography or rehearsals for this dance; they already knew it.
~
They’d dozed off. Percy had curled himself around Annabeth, not caring that he was mostly breathing through her hair. It smelled faintly of lemons and hairspray. The last time he’d been in her bed, he’d tried to stay far away from her, not rolling over or invading her space in the middle of the night. Now, he didn’t want to leave any space between them. One hand was pinned between his chest and her back, while the other reached over her, resting on the soft skin over her rib cage. Her breathing was soft, and her face peaceful and relaxed. He might never get off of her, he thought. She looked so beautiful. Something told him that if he’d seen this particular vision of her before he’d left for Miami, he wouldn’t have considered their offer for a single moment.
His phone started to buzz somewhere, pulling him from his half-asleep cuddle. He carefully untangled himself from Annabeth, hoping he didn’t disrupt her sleep, as he slipped out of the bed. He found his phone in his pants pocket over by the bedroom door. He grabbed it, trying to pull on his underwear as he read the caller ID.
Percy stepped out of Annabeth’s room, shutting the door quietly as he answered. “Hey Mom,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual.
“Did you make it home?” She asked. “Did your flight get delayed?”
He looked at the clock on Annabeth’s microwave. 5:00 pm. They’d been expecting him home.
“Yeah, I’m back in the city. Sorry, I should have texted. I went to see Annabeth,” he explained.
“Oh …” her voice got very sympathetic, “Percy I’m so sorry. I know how much you care for her.”
Percy just smiled as he looked at his City Ballet contract on Annabeth’s coffee table. “It’s okay, Mom. We’re okay,” he promised. Much better than okay, but Sally didn’t need to know. “I’ll be home for dinner. Seven, you said?”
“Yeah, your sister got you the most ridiculous cake I’ve ever seen.” Percy laughed. “If Annabeth is up for it, she’s always welcome,” Sally added.
“I’ll offer,” he said.
“Love you sweetie, I’ll see you soon,” Sally said.
“Love you too, Mom,” Percy said, hanging up the phone.
He walked back into Annabeth’s bedroom. She was still laying down, her bare body snuggled under the blankets, but her eyes were open.
“Have you told her yet?” Annabeth asked.
Percy shook his head. “No, I came straight here once I got it,” Annabeth smiled and sat up, letting the blankets fall away. Percy kept his eyes on her face to keep himself from saying something dumb like awooga. “You’re invited to dinner, though, if you’d like to help me surprise them.”
“I’d love to,” she said, slid out of bed and slipped on her glasses. “I’ll start getting ready.”
Before she could go into the bathroom, Percy grabbed her hand, and pulled her into another long, tender kiss. When they parted, Annabeth just smiled a wicked smile, and pulled him into the shower with her.
~
Annabeth had slipped the contract into a tote bag for him with a bottle of fancy wine to make it look less suspicious.
When they got to Percy’s front door, Annabeth let go of his hand. He turned to look at her as he pulled out his key, and saw she was near tears.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
She smiled, the sad look on her face disappearing. “Oh yeah,” she said. “You’re surprising them with the news, so I figured I should act like you’re still moving to Miami.”
Percy leaned in and kissed her. “Alright, just let me know the plan next time so you don’t scare me.”
Annabeth gave him a thumbs up as she slipped back into her melancholy mask.
Percy opened the door and announced to the apartment that they were there. Stella ran at him first. She gave him a big, tight hug, but didn’t say anything except: “Mom invited Miss Hestia.”
Percy squeezed her back, happy that for once his little sister was more excited about seeing him than seeing Annabeth.
They walked together into the living room, where his parents and Miss Hestia were sitting, looking over some old pictures of him.
“Hello,” Percy said. “Are we embarrassing me already?” He asked.
The three of them jumped up, each taking their turn to give him a big congratulatory hug. It took everything to not whip out the New York contract, but he’d decided to do it during dinner while they were all sitting down.
“I’m so proud of you,” Sally said, holding onto him tight. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” she said. Percy choked up a little, and he wouldn’t have been able to say don’t worry, I’m staying even if he planned to.
“You must be Annabeth,” he heard Miss Hestia say. Percy pulled loose from his mom, and turned to the two women.
“Yes, Percy’s told me so much about you,” Annabeth said, holding out her hand. “Are you still teaching?” She asked as they shook.
“Oh yes,” Miss Hestia said.
“Percy and I would love to come help one of these days,” Annabeth said, volunteering him, not that he minded.
“Maybe this summer?” Percy suggested.
“Before the big move?” Miss Hestia asked.
Percy and Annabeth nodded, still keeping up their act.
“Let me show you your cake!” Stella said, pulling Percy towards the kitchen. As he headed into the kitchen, he watched his mom pull Annabeth into a sad hug, offering her comfort about Percy’s move.
“It’s all right, Sally, we’re figuring it out,” he heard her say.
Maybe dinner was too long from now, he thought.
Estelle lifted the white cardboard lid of the bakery box, and inside was a round cake with a printed image of Pit Bull and the text “I’m in Miami Ballet.” Percy laughed.
“Now, how on earth did you come up with that?” He asked.
“Well, I’m funnier and smarter than you,” she reminded him.
“And a better dancer,” he added.
Stella smiled, before pulling him to another hug. “I’m gonna miss you. You promise you’ll come back and visit, right?”
Percy couldn’t take it anymore. “Of course,” he promised. He broke the hug and took the folder out of his tote bag. “But …” he handed it to her, “look at this.”
Stella’s eyes scanned over the highlighted parts. She looked up at Percy then, her brown eyes wide and welling with tears.
“You’re not moving to Miami?” She asked.
Percy panicked a little. “I’m sorry, you can still have the bigger room --”
She started to cry. “I’m not sad, I’m happy, ” she said. Percy almost cried then, when she started crying in that loud, heartbreaking way little kids do, and he couldn’t do anything but pull her back into the tight hug. If there were any last doubts about his choice, this killed them completely.
Sally ran over to them. “Stella, sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asked.
“Percy doesn't need to move to Florida,” she said through her tears, still holding onto Percy. She managed to hold out the contract. “Look!”
Sally opened it, and Miss Hestia looked over her shoulder. Percy saw Annabeth drop her facade and nudge Paul to go look too.
“Does that say New York?” Sally asked Miss Hestia.
“It does,” Miss Hestia said, her smile almost audible.
Sally turned to Annabeth. Annabeth just smiled wide. “He’s staying in New York,” Annabeth confirmed.
Everyone piled on top of him. Stella didn’t let go as their mom hugged him. Miss Hestia wrapped her arms around all three of them. He heard Annabeth say, “Should we get in there?” And Paul said, “I think so.” Soon there were two more bodies crushing him.
~
“So, if you two are official now, can I finally embarrass you by showing her your baby pictures?” Sally asked as she cleared away cake plates (Pit Bull’s face had tasted delicious). Percy wasn’t sure they’d communicated with her that they were official, but there was no point in challenging her if she was right.
“I’m pretty sure moms only do that in movies,” Percy said.
“But I would love to see them,” Annabeth said.
Sally was already on her feet, and Stella jumped up to help her. Sally plucked a few frames from the mantle as Estelle went to the living room to get the big photo album off the coffee table.
“This one isn’t too embarrassing,” Sally said. “It’s Percy at one of his first competitions. He came in twelfth.”
Sally held out the frame holding the photo of the top fifteen junior boys and top fifteen junior girls to Annabeth.
Annabeth grabbed it quickly. “Oh my god!” She yelled. She pointed to Percy. “Is that you?” She asked.
“Well, this seems like a bit of an overreaction,” Percy said, already embarrassed.
“No it’s …” she looked up at him, and pointed at the photo. He hadn’t really looked at the photo in years, and if he did, he selfishly only glanced at his younger self. He followed her finger to Giselle in the middle, the little girl who’d won not just his competition, but the national-level one too. The little blonde girl with the hops on pointe that no one else could do at their age. And he realized just how familiar she looked. She’s going to be famous, Lester had predicted correctly.
“Percy, that’s me,” Annabeth said. Of course it was.
“Oh my god,” Sally said, leaning over Annabeth to take a closer look. “It really is!”
But Annabeth was already leaning in to kiss him. See, Percy tried to say through the chaste, family-friendly kiss, we were always meant to be.
~
They indulged in extra desserts and wine as they sat on the couch and let Stella scroll through different YouTube videos on the TV. Naturally, she kept picking ones with Annabeth in them. Most of New York's rep was under lock and key, but there were a few good recordings. Stella found several favorites, like Marzipan, Romeo and Juliet ’s balcony scene, and the Black Swan coda. While they all admired her, Annabeth offered a steady commentary of “oh that was terrible”, “point that foot, Annabeth Chase”, and “turn out from the hips, dear.” Percy just pulled her in closer and kissed her red cheeks, no longer feeling quite so embarrassed about the half hour they’d spent looking at his childhood photos.
“You look beautiful,” he promised her.
When Miss Hestia finally stood up to leave, Sally told Stella they’d had enough ballet for the day, and it was time for her to get ready for bed too.
Estelle gave Percy another big hug, before turning to Annabeth. As she hugged Annabeth good night, she added: “Woman to woman? You could do better.”
Annabeth laughed, and Percy just scooped his sister up and carried her to her room.
When he came back, Annabeth leaned in close to him, her mouth near his ear. “Do you want to come back with me?” She asked. “We can go to rehearsal together tomorrow.”
Percy nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
Percy stood up and tried to play it cool. “We’re going to head out soon too,” he told his mom.
She smiled knowingly at the conspicuous we but decided Percy and Annabeth had both been embarrassed enough for one night.
“Alright sweetheart. Let me pack you some leftovers.” As she did that, Percy packed his dance bag, adding some things for overnight. He didn’t want to presume too much, but he did pack two days worth of clothes, just in case one night turned into more than that.
Annabeth was chatting with his parents when he walked back out, helping them stack plates and arrange tupperwares.
“Ready to go?” She asked. Percy nodded.
Percy hugged his mom tight as they got ready to leave.
“I’m so proud of you, Percy,” she said. “Really. I have always been proud of you, and I will always be, but, this …” she touched the tote bag on his arm where the contract was stored away again. “You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve it so much.”
For the second time in three days, he felt himself cry, just a little. His mom wiped away the tear, before pulling him in for another hug.
“I love you, Mom. Thanks for … ” he didn’t quite know how to put into words everything she had done for him and sacrificed for him, from ballet classes to Gabe, so he just settled on a simple but insufficient, “.. everything.”
“Of course, Percy. It’s what moms are for.” She gave him an extra squeeze before letting go. “Alright, I’ll let you go enjoy the rest of your night now,” she said, pulling away from him.
When they parted, Percy turned to Paul. “I never really thanked you,” he said to his stepdad, “for everything. I wouldn’t have been able to go to SAB without you. You’re just a high school teacher, and you had a baby on the way. I mean, really, none of this would have been possible without you supporting me. And you didn’t need to do that. I’m not your son.”
Paul rested a hand on Percy’s shoulder, and just said, “Of course you are,” before pulling him in for a hug.
Behind him, he heard Annabeth sniffling.
“Sweetheart, you can’t start crying too,” Sally said, pulling Annabeth in for a hug.
It seemed like Sally could tell Annabeth had not had a sufficient number of mom hugs in her life, because she refused to pull away first.
“Come out to Montauk with us this summer,” Paul said when Annabeth and Sally let go of each other. “I’ll teach you how to drive. I taught Percy, and you can’t possibly be worse than him.”
Annabeth laughed. “That’d be great,” she said, opening her arms for a hug as well. Theirs was a shorter goodbye hug, but it made Annabeth smile all the same.
“Alright, I think it’s time we let them get on with their night,” Sally said to her husband.
Annabeth took Percy’s hand as he led her out of the apartment and back downtown.
~
It was past eleven at night, and he knew he needed to get ready for bed. But all Percy could do was stare at the contract in his hands. He wasn’t thinking about anything except that it was real. He didn’t process the sink turning off or the bathroom door opening, until Annabeth was kneeling behind him on the bed in her bathrobe. She draped her arms over his shoulders, her chest to his back, and her face near his ear.
“What are you thinking about?” She asked.
“That I haven’t actually signed it yet,” he said.
Annabeth leaned back a little. “It’s not going to disappear,” she said. “Or are you having second thoughts?”
Percy turned his head towards her. “I’m not going to disappear either,” he promised with a quick kiss. “I was just thinking that I should do it now. I can give it to Chiron tomorrow.”
Annabeth was smiling. “Have you read it all the way through?” She asked.
“Well, no … but I was going to,” he said. He wasn’t stupid enough to sign something without reading most of it.
“Don’t sign it yet,” she said. Percy raised an eyebrow. “Let me read it tomorrow. I’ll compare it to mine. You might be able to look at Beck’s too. Just to make sure you’re getting everything you should. Have you gotten Miami’s offer yet?”
“Not the official contract,” he said.
“Maybe even wait to see their offer. If they offer more money, Chiron might boost your pay,” Annabeth said.
“Sneaky,” Percy teased.
“Strategic,” Annabeth corrected.
“I thought you’d want me to sign it as soon as possible,” Percy said, “and commit to New York.” He looked at her carefully when he said New York, and she understood what he was saying.
“When you were going to pick Miami, what did you hope would happen with us?” She asked.
Percy shrugged. “That we’d make it work somehow. I wasn’t thinking it was a choice between you and other women.” He was smart enough to know that mentioning Rachel’s name might send her into another spiral.
She nodded. “I’m sorry I made it about that,” she said. “And that I wasn’t willing to try. I just didn’t want you to choose me over your career and what you deserve . ”
Percy brushed her hair back. “I accept your apology, and I forgive you. I’m a dancer. It’s something I do. I can dance anywhere. Everything else, my life, my family, my goals, they’re all in New York. And, Annabeth?” He kissed her gently. “There was never anyone else I wanted to be with. The whole time, you were all I could think about.” She smiled and leaned in. When they pulled away, Percy added. “You do owe Rachel Dare an apology though.”
Annabeth carded her fingers through his hair. “I sent her an Instagram DM during the party. I’m sorry I was so mean to your friend.”
“You did warn me that you get jealous,” he said.
“I’ll work on it,” she promised.
“You’re really okay with me not signing it yet?” Percy asked.
“I trust you,” she promised. “And I do think you can probably get a little more money out of Chiron.”
“More money might not be a bad idea. I’ve been thinking it’s time to move out of my mom’s place,” Percy said. “Kind of lame to bring a girl back to my mom’s apartment.”
Annabeth shrugged. “I love your family, and … we can always come back here anyway.” She brushed some hair out of his face. “No need to rush out of there. Save your money for more important future things.”
“What kinds of future things?” Percy asked.
“Oh, you know,” she kissed him, “vacations, fancy dates, and other future stuff.” Her cheeks were pink, as she kissed him again.
“Come on,” Percy said softly between kisses, “don’t be embarrassed. Tell me what you were thinking about.”
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” she said.
“Try me.”
Instead of saying anything, she just opened her robe to reveal she hadn’t put her pajamas on yet. She pulled Percy further into the bed. His contract flopped to the ground, forgotten for the time being.
“Annabeth,” Percy said. “Tell me.”
Annabeth pouted a little when she realized her distraction hadn’t worked.
“Future stuff,” she said, “you know, like moving in with someone, marriage, kids …”
“Just someone?” he asked. She hummed. He kissed her again. “Do you want those things, Annabeth? Do you still want them?” She’d had or nearly had them before and walked away. Percy knew it was the future he wanted with someone, but she might not.
“I do,” she said. “Not yet, but … Luke didn’t ruin everything, you know? But do you want them?” She asked.
Percy leaned down to her, kissing her lips first, before moving to her neck, then her chest.
“Yes,” he promised. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted so far -- his promotion at his company, in his city, and now he had her too. And there was still so much of his future he could dream about.
No, not dream, he remembered. Goals. Goals he could work for. Goals he could -- would -- make happen.
Notes:
Someone needs to get Paul an "I'm not a step-dad, I'm the dad that stepped up" tee shirt.
Chiron promoting Percy because he finally sees Percy's self confidence, only for Percy to say something that so clearly communicates he's still not all that confident is another favorite detail. That and the catalyst for Percy's choice to stay in New York being a big fucking rat.
Chapter thirteen will be titled "A Midsummer Night's Dream // Finale"
Follow me on Tumblr for updates, previews, etc. demigodsanswer.tumblr.com Feel free to send messages or asks about the story. I'm happy to add more extratextual details or headcanons over there.
Also ... the smut for this chapter does exist in my Google drive. If there's interest ... maybe I'll post it.
If not, I'll keep it for myself.
Chapter 13: Finale // Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux
Summary:
“I can't help but feel like, if I’d gone through with it … that marriage never would have lasted the year. I think the moment I danced with you in rehearsal, I knew. I think that, even if I was married, I would have known.”
“Known what?” He asked.
“That it was always supposed to be you.”
Notes:
I actually cannot believe I am finally finishing this story! Thank you to everyone for such lovely comments and for keeping me motivated to write this. I'm so happy to have finally completed it. But this (hopefully) wont' be the end of stories from this universe. There's already a bonus (E-rated) chapter up for those interested.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"I know I felt like this before // But now I'm feeling it even more // Because it came from you // Then I open up and see // The person falling here is me // A different way to be"
Dreams, The Cranberries
April - Spring Season
He woke up to Annabeth grumbling as she turned off her alarm. Before he could start moving to get out of bed, she rolled over and snuggled back into his side. They were still naked, and the warmth of her bare body was a welcome comfort against his.
“What if we just skipped?” Annabeth suggested, her eyes closed.
Percy laughed and twirled one of her curls around his finger. “Who knew New York’s star was so lazy?” She mumbled something Percy couldn’t understand. “Come on, gorgeous. It’s the first day of the season,” he reminded her. They started rehearsals in the afternoon, and before company class started Chiron would be making announcements about the Summer Season and upcoming tours.
“So what? We could just stay here instead,” she said, a hand slipping down under the blanket, tracing its way over Percy’s abs, and then lower.
Percy rolled over and turned her onto her back as he got on top of her. “You’re a corrupting influence, you know that?”
Annabeth’s smile told him that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.
~
Now they were late. They finally got out of bed half an hour later, and they were scrambling to get themselves together. Annabeth showered as Percy tried to do some yoga; he showered while she did her hair and makeup. He made them a quick breakfast as she did her warmups. Percy glanced in the fridge for something to make lunches out of, but she didn’t have a lot to work with.
“I meant to go grocery shopping yesterday,” she said, picking up the pointe shoes from her coffee table. “ And I meant to finish sewing these shoes,” she said, obviously scolding herself.
“Sorry for being such a distraction,” Percy teased. He walked over to her and pulled her in close again, his hands on her waist. She threw her arms over his shoulders.
“No you’re not,” she said. Percy nodded in agreement. “And anyway, I’m the one who keeps jumping on you.”
“Yeah, but I keep catching you,” he said. This time, he wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but they were kissing again, their bodies as close as they could get with their clothes still on. For a moment, Percy thought they might actually just ditch company class and spend the morning tangled up in each other.
But Annabeth’s intercom buzzed. They jumped back from each other, both shocked by the loud, awful noise ringing through the apartment. Percy forgot this building still had that old system hooked up, but sure enough it still worked, and Beckendorf’s voice shouted at them through it.
“Annabeth Chase, you are late!”
She ran over and responded. “Sorry! I’m leaving now!” She promised.
It was Beck’s first day back. He was just doing class and sitting in the back for rehearsals, but he had some hope he might be on stage again by the middle of the season. With him and Silena in the same building Percy figured they’d be traveling uptown together. But it didn’t sound like they knew he was here.
“Come on,” Annabeth said, grabbing her to-go mug of coffee. Even though she was certainly the one who had made them late in the first place, she turned to him and said: “You can’t be late for your first day as a principal.”
~
“There she is! What took you so -- Oh ho ho,” Beckendorf said. Annabeth had come down the stairs first, and his face broke into a wide, knowing, teasing smile when he saw Percy with her. “Nevermind then.”
“We should be happy she showed up at all,” Silena said to her husband.
“Shut up,” Annabeth said, a smile and blush on her face.
“Did you two work things out about Miami?” Beckendorf asked. Annabeth confessed she’d told them already (“Sorry, I was just so … I didn’t know what else --” “Annabeth, it’s fine. It wasn’t a secret.”)
Percy looked at Annabeth, who was smiling wide back at him. “Can I tell them?” She asked.
“Sure,” Percy said.
Annabeth stood up straight. “You are looking at New York City Ballet’s newest male Principal,” she said.
Before he knew it, Percy was swept up in a big hug; Beckendorf lifted Percy’s feet off the floor with the force of it. “I knew you could do it, man!” He said.
When Beck stepped away, Silena offered him a much more restrained but sweet hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she said. Silena glanced at Annabeth, “and for you,” she said with a wink.
On the subway, Annabeth pulled out one of the shoes she hadn’t finished sewing.
“Run out of time to finish prepping your shoes?” Beck teased.
Annabeth rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. She didn’t regret a thing.
“You know Percy, when she came back in December, she swore up and down that she would never date another company member?” Silena said. “Three weeks later she was in the costume shop talking my ear off about how much she liked you.”
The tops of Annabeth’s ears were red. Percy smiled. If he had to spend last night watching his mother flip through albums of pictures of him, he was glad that she got at least a little proper embarrassment right back.
~
Chiron rolled up to Percy before class. He and Annabeth were warming up on the floor near each other; if Chiron noticed they’d arrived together (several of their friends had), he didn’t show it.
“Ah, there you are Percy. Annabeth, may I borrow him?” Percy stepped to the side with Chiron. “I wanted to let you know that I’ll be announcing another promotion this morning, and I wanted to make sure I could announce yours as well,” he said. He lowered his voice more. “It would not mean you’d need to accept it,” he added.
“Yeah, of course,” Percy said smiling. “I would love that.”
“Any sense of your leanings?” Chiron asked.
Percy tried to stay completely neutral as he shook his head, but his eyes glanced back to Annabeth as he did, and Chiron just smiled.
“Well, let us know,” Chiron said, wheeling away.
Percy went back to his warmups.
“Alright, alright,” Chiron said from the front of the room, calling everyone’s attention. “I know you’ve all been waiting to find out the details about this summer’s tour. There have been plenty of rumors about us going abroad. So I am happy to finally tell you,” a bunch of company members began slapping their thighs as a drum roll, “The New York City Ballet is officially going to Paris!”
Annabeth grabbed Percy’s arm and smiled as the room erupted in cheers.
“I’ll be posting details soon. We intend to take the whole company, so if you don’t want a trip to Paris, make sure to let me know.” The room was still in a celebratory uproar. “But before we go to Paris, I think we’re a little short on principal dancers in the company, don’t you?”
There was another cheer. Percy scanned the room, and found Piper in the back. She was looking at him, her eyebrows raised. He made the same face back, and they both smiled.
“I want to congratulate our two newest principal dancers: Piper McLean and --” there was too much cheering for Chiron to continue. He repeated “--and” several times before the room calmed down enough for him to say, “and Percy Jackson.”
Percy basked in his own celebration, trying not to turn away from or dismiss the applause. Annabeth pulled him in close for a hug, before kissing his cheek, which made people cheer louder. Finally, Piper ran over to him, pulled him up off the floor, and they hugged. The company photographer started snapping photos, so Percy lifted Piper up into a shoulder sit, both of them triumphant.
~
“We should celebrate!” Piper said after class. “We should go dancing!”
“Sure, because we never do that,” Percy said. He looked at Jason. “How about tequila shots?”
Jason pretended to gag, bending over the barre as if he meant to puke behind it. “They told you about that, huh?”
“About what?” Piper asked.
“Jason holds the Miami City Ballet record for most tequila shots in a single night,” Percy told her.
Both Annabeth and Piper’s eyes went wide as they looked at Jason.
“How many?” Piper asked finally.
“Eleven, apparently,” Jason said. “But I don’t remember anything after seven.”
“Eleven?!” Piper and Annabeth yelled at the same time.
“Where did you put it all?” Annabeth asked.
“In the bushes outside the bar, mostly,” Jason said.
When they finished laughing at Jason’s expense, Percy asked: “Have any of you been to Paris before?”
Piper said something in French that Percy assumed translated to: “Of course. My mother is the editor of Vogue, you idiot.” Jason also had, but Annabeth shook her head.
“I’m surprised. Seems like a place you’d love to visit,” Percy said.
Annabeth nodded. “Well, I was actually supposed to go last summer,” she said.
“Why didn’t you?” Piper asked.
Annabeth laughed. “It was going to be my honeymoon.”
~
Technically, news of Percy’s promotion had been published in The New York Times.
Sure, the headline was “Piper McLean, Daughter of Movie Star Tristan McLean and Vogue Editor Venus di Milo, becomes New York City Ballet’s First Native American Principal Dancer since Maria Tallchief,” but at the bottom of the article, the journalist had added, “Percy Jackson, 25, and one of McLean’s frequent dance partners, was also promoted to principal.” They’d even posted a picture of him and Piper from act two of Sleeping Beauty.
His mom hung the story on the fridge. Percy couldn’t be mad about it. Annabeth had threatened to frame it.
~
A week later, Percy scored a reservation at a nice Italian place not too far from Annabeth’s apartment. After rehearsal, she’d shut herself in her bathroom for forty-five minutes, and came back out with her hair down in perfect curls, her makeup impeccable, and her dress a dark red wine color. Performing arts had given Percy an appreciation for how long it took to get hair, makeup, and clothes just right. If it wasn’t for that appreciation, he’d’ve thrown her right onto the bed and ravished her right there.
Instead, he settled for a kiss. “You’re beautiful,” he muttered, his mouth still against hers.
“Come on, I want that dinner,” she said, pulling him out of the apartment with her.
Annabeth was seated across from him, and she hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time. She looked radiant, and all Percy wanted to do was keep her laughing and smiling for the rest of … well, forever.
He reached for his phone in his pocket. “Could I take a picture of you?” He asked.
He worried the request would make her nervous, or trigger something, but she just smiled more.
“Yeah, of course,” she said. She posed a little and Percy snapped some photos. He’d played photographer for Piper enough to know that the best thing to do was just keep taking pictures. She started to move a little, letting him get some more candid ones.
After a few seconds, he put his phone down. He’d look at them later.
“Thanks,” he said.
She leaned in, reaching her hand across the table to him. “As long as my clothes are on, you don’t have to ask,” she told him.
Percy took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I probably still will.” Annabeth just kept smiling.
On their drive home, she asked to see the pictures. He handed her his phone and told her the passcode without giving it much thought.
“Can I delete the ones I don’t like?” She asked.
“They’re pictures of you. You can do whatever you want with them,” he said. She kissed his cheek.
Percy watched as she scrolled. She deleted a few where she had her eyes closed, or where he’d caught her in between facial expressions, but most of them she left.
There was one towards the end that had Percy saying “Wow,” involuntarily. It was a simple picture, one of the more candid ones. Annabeth’s head was tilted down and to the side, so the picture caught mostly her profile, but her eyes were turned up towards him. Her blonde hair was swept to one side, perfectly arranged, and her hand rested on the table, her fingers reaching out towards him, her smile soft. She looked like … a princess, Percy thought. She looked like a goddamn Disney Princess. Or a Barbie Doll. He almost laughed. Of course she did.
Annabeth smiled, clicked on the share icon, and changed it to Percy’s lockscreen background.
“Can I post this on Instagram?” She asked once she’d done that.
“Mine or yours?” Percy asked.
“Yours.”
He nodded. “What’s the caption going to be?”
He watched Annabeth type “ My dream girl 😍 ” into the box before posting it.
~
Later that night, as they laid in the dark together, his arm over her side, her hair in his face, he finally summoned up all his courage. He pressed a kiss into her temple and whispered, “I love you.”
Annabeth rolled over. Even in the dark, he could tell her gray eyes were wide. Percy worried for a moment that it was too soon for a confession like that. Maybe it was. No, it definitely was. It was dumb. He shouldn’t have said it.
But she just smiled, and said in a shaky voice, “I love you so much.”
They leaned in at the same time, and before they knew it, all thoughts of sleep had abandoned them in favor of something else entirely. It was almost a contest to see who could repeat the refrain the most.
The next morning, they woke up late, basking in the day off, before resuming their contest. Percy had a feeling this wasn’t exactly what Balanchine imagined when he choreographed Agon. But Percy was glad to finally have an answer for what they were competing for, and that, yes, the were lovers in every sense of the word.
~
His Miami offer arrived later that week. They were offering more money than New York. But when Percy told Chiron, he just said: “Give me a week.”
Chiron came back with a stronger counter offer. Annabeth had been right (of course). He was able to get a little more money out of Chiron. More money for future stuff, he thought.
He emailed Lupa Chiron’s new offer. She only responded that they could not go above Chiron’s pay, but that she could match it.
So, on April twenty-first, Percy signed his contract to officially become a New York City Ballet principal dancer. His mother cried for him all over again, and Estelle and Paul bought him a new cake.
May - Spring Season
Percy wasn’t not loving A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Annabeth sobbed and reached for him, but Percy dodged. She reached for him again, getting her arms around his neck and leaning forward, her face against his chest. He pulled her off. Finally, when she was sitting on the ground, shoulders shaking, he moved as if to kick her, but he held back, giving up and walking away.
“Alright, pause there,” Mr. D said. He called the second cast Demetrius and Helena up to run it
Percy offered Annabeth a hand, helping her off the floor before they moved to the back of the room to rest their legs a moment.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered to her.
“For what?” She asked.
“Being mean to you,” he explained.
“In the ballet?”
After a few days of rehearsals, they’d been cast as Demetrius and Helena in Midsummer Night’s Dream, opposite Jason’s Lysander and Piper’s Hermia. The ballet matched the comic tone of Shakespeare’s play, but that meant exaggerated solos, pas de deux, and other dances between three or even all four of the lovers, where the men were either pushing them away or grabbing them, while one or the other of the girls had to cover their face, hunch their back, and pretend to sob about their scorned love.
Needless to say, Percy was not enjoying playing Annabeth’s Demetrius.
“Yeah, I feel bad,” he said.
She touched his face gently. “You’re too sweet,” she said. “Just play it up like Piper and I do with the crying. It’s meant to be funny. Don’t overthink it.”
“I’ll give it a try,” he promised.
It was, at least, a fun technical challenge. There was a lot of push and pull. He needed to look completely disinterested in her, as if he were trying to push her away, while still holding her steady and supporting her in all the ways he’d been trained to support a partner.
There was also plenty of acting and gesticulating. He shook his hands at her constantly, as if to say: Why won’t you leave me alone ? while she sobbed dramatically.
But he couldn’t help himself. After their next run through, he still found himself saying “sorry about that.”
~
“Are you okay with our roles in Midsummer? ” She asked that night. He was staying over again. He’d been staying over most nights, honestly. They were already tucked into bed, cuddling together in a position half way between sitting up and laying down.
He shrugged. “I’m having a lot of fun and I love dancing with you, but I don’t even like pretending I would ever treat you like that,” he said.
Annabeth ran her fingers through his hair. It was comforting. They were in their pajamas -- or, she was, he was in his boxers. They hadn’t slept together when they got home. Percy just cooked a dinner that they ate on the couch, and then he rubbed her feet and calves. It had been blissfully domestic.
“I don’t think you ever would,” she said. “I just want to make sure it’s not too triggering for you.”
Percy shook his head. “No, I just might need to apologize to you six thousand times between now and the end of the run.”
She smiled. “Okay, baby.” Annabeth slipped further under the covers, lying all the way down. Percy took that as his cue. He turned off the light before rolling over to hold her as little spoon until she fell asleep.
~
The girls got to wear beautiful Grecian gowns that went nearly to the floor. Annabeth's was a magenta color, and Piper’s was light blue. Their hair was down, with pieces braided across the top to keep it out of their eyes.
And Percy and Jason looked like discount Lord Farquaads. Their wigs were horrendous bobs with little caps on the top.
“The idea that any woman, let alone two women, would run into the woods after us is completely ridiculous,” Percy said.
“This is awful,” Jason said, pulling at the long blonde strands of his wig. “Do we really need to wear these?”
“It was Balanchine’s vision, take it up with him,” Silena said as she finished noting down some small adjustments and repairs.
“Anyone got a ouija board? I have to file a complaint,” Percy asked the room.
The capes were almost worse. They didn’t look bad like the wigs did, but dancing in them was a challenge. They kept swinging around, throwing off the position of their arms as they spun and jumped.
Despite the costumes, the wigs, and Precy’s ongoing need to apologize to Annabeth after nearly every scene, the show had been a smashing success.
Percy felt a bit like son of the year too. He’d managed to secure a solid group discount for Paul to take his AP Lit students to see one of the matinee shows as a field trip. Sure, that meant all of Paul’s students saw Percy in a wig that made him look like a little lad who loves berries and cream, but their laughter echoed throughout the ballet. Percy felt so great he almost forgot to apologize to Annabeth.
“Sorry,” he said, kissing the side of her head after the curtain call.
Almost .
June - Summer Break
“You two do get your own room,” Sally told them, as she opened the door to the cabin. “It is meant for two.”
“Wait,” Percy said, “you’re putting us in that room? What about the room I usually stay in?”
“That’s got a twin bed,” Sally said, walking him and Annabeth to the room. On the way, she pointed out the bathroom for Annabeth.
When Annabeth saw the bunk beds, she started laughing into Percy’s shoulder as he said, “These are also twin beds, Mom.”
“But there’s two of them,” she said.
Annabeth just walked into the room and tossed her duffle bag onto the top bunk. “Dibs!”
It didn’t take long for everyone to decide to head down to the beach.
“I can’t believe you’re making us stay in bunk beds,” Percy complained while Annabeth changed in the bathroom.
“Oh Percy, it’s just the bigger room. One way or another you two were sharing a twin bed. Might as well give you more space.” Sally reached into her beach bag and pulled out a box of condoms. Percy’s face went red as she handed them to him. He slipped them into his swimsuit pocket quickly.
“Mom --!”
“I just want to make sure you two are extra careful. You and Stella were both conceived in this cabin.”
“Hey, so I could have lived the rest of my life without knowing that,” he said, the most uncomfortable he’d ever been.
Later that night, they took turns showering off the salt, sand, and s’mores.
When Percy came back from his shower, Annabeth was laying on the top bunk.
“You’re not actually sleeping up there without me, are you?” He asked.
“Come on, it’s fun. It reminds me of the dorms at SAB.”
“I never stayed in the dorms,” he reminded her.
“Right,” she said.
“What was it like?” Percy asked as he got dressed for bed.
She shrugged. “Fine. Some drama, naturally, but it was a lot of fun.” She rolled over and watched him towel off. “But I remember, there was this one kid in my year, Matt Sloan, who was just such a bully to everyone. Right before I got taken into the company, I’d had enough. I mean, he was being a real jerk about this boy I danced with in pas de deux class,” Percy tilted his head and smiled, as he realized she had no memory of what boy she was talking about, “and it was so unfair. So, at night when no one was in the little kitchen areas they had for us to keep snacks and stuff, I went in and I would just … squeeze his fruit.”
Percy laughed. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I would just,” she made fists with her hands, “squeeze all his pears so they would get brown spots.”
“That’s the most incredible petty revenge I’ve ever heard,” he said. He walked over to the bed, and rested his arms on her mattress, putting his face close to hers. “You squeezed Matt Sloan’s fruit all for the boy you were dancing with in pas de deux class?” He asked.
Annabeth ran a hand through his damp hair. “Don’t be jealous, I don’t even remember who he was.”
Percy smiled. “It was right before you got into the company?” He asked. She nodded. “You know, I was in that class.”
“You were?”
“Sure was.”
“Any idea who I squeezed fruit for?”
“Annabeth …” He said. She still looked clueless. He kissed her. “It was me.”
“Ha, no it wasn’t,” she said.
“Yes, it was. We danced together for three weeks. You taught me a lot actually,” he said.
“I don’t believe you,” she said after a moment of quiet, “I think I’d remember if it was you.”
Percy tilted his head to one side. “Would you?” He asked.
“Yes, because I love you very much. And I know we didn’t meet until Saratoga in 2017,” she said.
Percy just kissed her gently. “It was me,” he promised.
“If you say so,” she said.
He kissed her again. “Now you’re just being stubborn.”
Annabeth gasped dramatically. “When have I ever, in my entire life, been stubborn?” She asked in an exaggerated voice that told him she was (mostly) dragging this out for her own amusement. Percy didn’t press the issue any further, lest he wake up to find her bruising the bananas and peaches they’d brought with them.
He turned off the lights and slipped into his bottom bunk bed. After a few minutes, she still hadn’t come down to join him. He put his leg up in the air, resting his toes on the underside of her mattress, and then he started to shake it.
“Annabeth,” he whined.
“Alright, you big baby,” she said, climbing down out of her bed and onto his.
For all her talk about staying in her own top bunk, it only took a few kisses and a gentle touch here and there before Annabeth was in his lap.
“Condoms?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“In my bag,” he told her.
She sat up to grab them, but she moved too quickly, and the back of her head hit the bed frame of the top bunk.
“Oh no,” Percy said, carefully pulling her back down to him, holding her close and rubbing her head, “are you okay?”
“Fuck these beds. Maybe tomorrow we’ll just sleep on the beach,” she grumbled.
~
“Do you know what today is?” She asked, rolling over on her towel to face him. Her bathing suit was a white bikini with little strawberries on it, and Percy thought they looked good enough to eat.
“The sixteenth?” He said.
She nodded. “It would have been my one year wedding anniversary today.”
“Oh.” He scooted closer to her. “How do you feel?” He asked.
She just smiled and rested a hand on his face. “How do you think I feel?” She rolled onto her back, her long, lean legs stretched out towards the ocean. “I can't help but feel like, if I’d gone through with it … that marriage never would have lasted the year. I think the moment I danced with you in rehearsal, I knew. I think that, even if I was married, I would have known.”
“Known what?” He asked.
“That it was always supposed to be you.”
July - Summer Season
The company brought Midsummer Night’s Dream on the summer tour to Saratoga. They had three weeks in Saratoga, a few weeks off, and then they headed to Paris.
They kept the casting consistent, meaning Percy was back to his routine of apologizing.
During their last show, Chiron found Percy in the wings. He was watching Oberon’s solo. It had been one of Edward Villella’s roles. Percy had always felt most comfortable in the roles Balanchine had choreographed for Villella, especially Tarantella. Percy couldn’t help but stare in envy as he watched Chris Rodriguez do the quick series of jumps, wishing that was his role instead of Demetrius.
“That role would suit you,” Chiron said, as if reading his mind. “The next time we do Midsummer, you are my Oberon.”
“Really?” He asked. “Is that a promise?”
Chiron nodded. “I said the same thing to Annabeth about Aurora when she was eighteen. Once I see the perfect casting, only injuries can make me deviate.”
“It took you eight years to stage Beauty again, though,” Percy said.
“I was waiting for the right moment,” Chiron said, before wheeling away. Percy had no regrets about his decision to stay in New York, but he had to appreciate that Lupa was not nearly as cryptic as he was.
~
The theater in Saratoga was outside, which meant bugs were much more common. They loved the fake woods of their Midsummer set.
He’d spent enough time in Annabeth’s apartment to know that even the smallest spider could send her into a panic. So he knew that if she noticed there was a spider on her shoulder she would … well she was a professional. Maybe she wouldn’t scream and cry. But Percy didn’t want to take that risk.
Percy wasn’t supposed to push her. It was supposed to be a gentle tap to her shoulder to cue her to move on her own, and then Percy would follow through with the pushing movement, allowing her lead in faux-shove, his hand following where she went, keeping her in control of the where and when of the motion. But this time, he put just a little more force into it, squishing the spider against his hand, but taking away just a bit of her control.
He tried to wipe it off on his costume discretely as Annabeth fake fell. There wasn’t enough force in the shove to actually send her to the ground without her being in total control, but she did stumble a bit more on her way there. When she found her landing spot, he could see in her eyes that she felt something different in his action.
When they made it off stage, he went to apologize, but before he could she hissed: “What the hell?”
“Sorry, there was a spider,” he said. A few of its little buggy legs were still stuck to his hand. One of her hands flew to her mouth, the other to the shoulder he’d shoved, before pulling that one away as if the ghost of the spider still lingered.
“Oh my god, thank you, ” she said. Percy went to hug her, but she stepped back. “Wash your hand before you touch me,” she said.
Percy laughed and did as he was told.
August - Paris Tour
The Paris tour program was themed, unofficially, around romance. Chiron didn’t say it, but everyone picked up on it. The first half was Serenade, Fancy Free, and the Sleeping Beauty wedding pas de deux. The second half was “Emeralds,” The Romeo and Juliet balcony pas de deux, and it all ended with Tchaikovsky Pas De Deux.
They were only doing six days of performances with two casts. And Percy found his name on the schedule twice: first cast Sleeping Beauty and second cast Tchai Pas.
And both were with Annabeth.
The Paris tour program was themed, for Percy and Annabeth at least, after fish dives.
They took to the stage for the Wedding Pas as Fancy Free was clearing out. Fancy Free was a heels ballet about sailors on leave in World War II wooing three ladies in a bar. It was the first time Piper and Beckendorf had been cast together. Beckendorf was the shy boy, and Piper was the girl he tried to woo. Percy thought they looked great, and he had to assume this was a trial run for her promised debut in Slaughter that Fall. Beckendorf was back in full swing now, and Paris was truly his triumphant return, as he led Fancy Free and Emeralds.
“I think the four of us are going to become interchangeable to Chiron,” Piper said on her way off stage once the curtain fell. She was in a 1940s hair style, dress, and shoes. Annabeth was standing next to her in a princess tutu in a tiara. They made quite the strange scene. He and Beck next to each other didn’t look any more normal -- a sailor and a prince.
“You looked amazing,” Annabeth said.
“Don’t drop her,” Piper said to Percy, as she walked away, hurrying the two of them to the stage.
They hadn’t brought the set with them, or dressed up the corps to play wedding guests. This time, it was just the two of them on an empty stage, with nothing but the music and their dancing to fill the space.
“Back where we started,” Percy said. They had another moment before the curtain was set to rise, and Annabeth used it to lean up and kiss him.
They took their place, his hand on her hip, and when the curtain rose, there was a gasp from the audience. For a moment, Percy panicked, worried that something had gone horribly wrong. But no, he realized, it was anticipation and admiration. He and Annabeth hadn’t even moved yet, and the audience was already stunned.
In their very first rehearsal back in January, Percy had walked to the front of the room expecting to just piece this pas together with her. He expected starts and stops. He expected looks of disappointment from Chiron and Annabeth. But then the music just kept playing. There was nothing to piece together. They already had it.
And they hadn’t lost it.
The two of them only had a handful of rehearsals to get this dance back in their bodies. All of their rehearsal time had gone to Tchai Pas, but the audience would never have known. Percy felt like they were born to dance this role together.
As she squeezed her leg around him, holding on for that final no-arms fish dive, Percy basked in how truly easy it was to show people how much he loved Aurora.
~
Tchaikovsky Pas De Deux was set to a piece of music Tchaikovsky had cut from Swan Lake. Balanchine took the music and choreographed one of his most iconic pieces. It was a ballet that took a tremendous amount of risks in such a short performance. But to Percy, all of that risk just felt like trust. How much could a dancer trust their partner?
At the start of rehearsals, Percy was surprised to find out it wasn’t just his debut.
“I hope I can do this,” Annabeth said.
“You’ll be amazing,” Percy promised her.
It was a twelve-minute piece that blended the speed of Balanchine’s rep with classical grace and beauty. There were big jumps and fast turns, but it was also romantic and flirtatious. There was space to play with the musicality, and every time they rehearsed it, Percy felt like he learned something new about his dancing, and about Annabeth as a partner. It pushed them both to work harder. They had to stretch their skills to the breaking point and really, properly improve their technique and speed. Their trust was solid, though. That didn't need any work.
As they danced it, Percy realized he had been wrong. Carousel wasn’t the perfect ballet for them. It wasn’t even Sleeping Beauty. This was it. It was everything great about the two of them blended together in one beautiful and self-contained piece of choreography. Maybe she'd been born to dance Aurora. Maybe he was made for Tarantella. But this one was for them together. It was always supposed to be them.
Annabeth was in a peach-colored costume with a flowing skirt that moved like water around her with every lift, spin, and jump. Percy loved to watch it move, and when he wasn’t on stage, he found himself completely transfixed on it and the woman wearing it.
Their pas before the solos ended with a new style of fish dive for them. Annabeth crossed her arms at her lower belly, and Percy stood behind her. He took her hands around to her back, lacing their fingers together as he lifted. Annabeth lifted her feet off the ground, and her weight was held up by the grip of their hands, and balanced on her forearms. They smiled at the audience as if to say it’s too easy.
It was not too easy, but that was what made ballet fun. You did something impossible and made it look beautiful.
The tempo for Annabeth’s solo was fast, and she had to work hard to stay on the music. But she did, every time. Really, she made it look easy.
As she did a series of quick passé’ s, bringing her foot up to her knee, and then back down, switching which leg came up each time, she was able to play with her accents. She held the balance of the third on just a little longer, smirking at the audience, flirting with them.
Percy stood in the wings watching her, his chest still heaving from his own jump-heavy solo. Let anyone say she can’t keep up now, he thought. The company’s videographer was in the audience recording their tour for the company’s record and social media channels. This would make it online, he was sure of it. There was no slowing down this tempo, there was no letting her off easy. Annabeth had worked hard to get this just right, and now she was on stage making it look like it was no big deal.
He came out for the coda with another huge series of jumps, and when he made his exit, she entered for another series of jumps onto pointe, landing on her toe, the other leg out behind her in arabesque. Then she had pique turns, doing a series of small spins as she traced a large circle around the stage. Finally, when she was completely exhausted, Annabeth had to do a series of fouette turns. She had to stay on one leg while she kicked the other out to keep momentum going in the spin. She threw in a double, even a triple when she could. And just for fun, she added some arm movements to the turns.
She’s a star, Percy thought, and Balanchine’s dancer through and through.
Their final coda ended with two more fish dives. The tempo of the music picked up, and Annabeth ran towards him. She jumped into his arms, and he caught her mid-air. There was no hand on her waist to guide her down, no grip on her hands. All they had was her total and complete trust that he would catch her.
They earned another collective gasp from the audience as Annabeth jumped head first towards the floor. She started her jump from as far away from Percy as they could manage.
He caught her, of course, before standing her up to do the same thing in the other direction.
They danced the final measure, and then he pressed her up above his head, his hands on her back, his arms straight up, as she leaned back and extended one leg towards the ceiling. He carried her off to a triumph of applause. He’d been a principal for months, but in that moment he really felt it. He was a star in the company in his own right. And now, he had international praise as well.
They took their bows. They were composed, lovely, and the perfect end to a great show.
And then they made their way back into the wings, and she jumped on him. Percy’s heart pounded in his chest, working overtime after the ballet and with the sheer fact of how much he adored her. They held on tight to each other; Annabeth’s legs were wrapped around his waist as he spun her around. He kissed her cheek over and over as she told him how much she loved him. It was so clear to him just how right she'd been: it was always meant to be them.
~
The tour in Paris ended with a gala dinner reception. The formal event had forced Percy into a suit, but he couldn’t complain when it had also given him the opportunity to see Annabeth in a floor-length, dark blue gown. It was sleeveless, showing off her arms and collar bone, but it covered everything else. It sparkled in the light; the glitter seemed woven into the fabric, as if she’d hung the stars on her dress. She had a string of gray pearls that matched her eyes. They had been a gift from her father when she’d made principal. She’d pinned her curls up in an elaborate updo, looser than a ballet bun but evocative of the look she wore so well.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.
When enough time had passed that making their exit wouldn’t be seen as impolite, Piper collected them -- Percy, Annabeth, Beckendorf, SIlena, and Jason -- and got them into the back of her mother’s car. She spoke to the driver in her perfect French.
Being friends with Piper was truly paying off now. Her mother had gotten them suits at the Ritz when she found out what sub-par (by her standards) hotel the ballet was housing them in. She’d hired a driver for her daughter, and gotten her reservations at the best restaurants in town. All Piper had to do was pose in some ballet-core spread when she got home. An easy trade, she insisted. Percy had to agree.
Their evening plan had been Silena’s idea. All of them -- even Piper -- wanted to see the Eiffel Tower lit up at night, and Silena had suggested waiting for the night of the gala.
“We will be dressed to the nines. Perfect for pictures.”
In the car, Annabeth squeezed Percy’s hand with excitement. She’d made a list of all the museums and monuments she wanted to see, and had drafted an itinerary for them. They were staying in Paris an extra two weeks to make sure they saw it all. The Tower hadn’t been her number one attraction, but of course it had been on the list. And now it would be the first thing they crossed off.
Tomorrow, though, they were scheduled for “stay in the hotel and …” until their triple date dinner reservations at 7:30.
Piper had the driver drop them on the other side of the pont d’léna so they could walk over the bridge for maximum romance.
Annabeth pulled Percy along, somehow moving faster than him despite her high heels. Percy let himself hang back just a bit.
“Can I take your picture?” He asked, calling after her.
“Yes!” She yelled back to him, not slowing her pace at all.
He got a few from the back, with the Tower glittering in the distance. She turned towards him, and he captured a few blurry ones where the city lights blended with her gold hair. Without a doubt, her smile was the brightest thing in the photo.
Silena took the phone from him before posing the two together. They were still on the bridge, not even close to being in front of the monument, but Silena wasn’t passing up the opportunity. They did a few cute poses, before Annabeth turned Percy’s head towards her. She pulled him in for a kiss, her finger resting under his chin, and then she dipped him backwards for once, her arms holding him steady under his back.
“Well, that’s perfect,” Silena said, before handing Percy his phone back.
“Now, come on,” Annabeth said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the Eiffel Tower. She stayed ahead of him, occasionally looking back to make sure she hadn’t lost him. Percy just kept his eyes forward, always on her, taking her in -- every inch, every ounce of joy, and every excited little laugh. Every bit of it he savored.
And for once, he didn’t look back.
Notes:
Because I changed the timeline of this story to now have it set in 2024, rather than 2020, that does mean that the Paris Olympics would be going on during that summer tour. So we're just going to pretend the 2024 summer Olympics happened somewhere else.
Midsummer Nights Dream: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrfiusNHCls&t=1927s (skip to 30:15 for the dance mentioned)
Wedding Pas: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqiZFTx7jRg
Tchai Pas: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQeCVBdjw9w
Fancy Free: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ou-O9Awkzo
Emeralds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96K21No-e3c&t=60s
Serenade: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xd9R9S6-9E4&t=1083sThank you all so much! I've you never watched any of the linked ballets, give them a try! You might really love them!
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