In a city as large as Oxpin, it seemed there were plenty of rumors about Lily Burnett, a principal ballerina.
A miraculous talent born into a renowned family of officers stretching back generations, she was on the older side for an unmarried woman living here. An engagement arranged between their families when they were children had been repeatedly postponed for no apparent reason.
Since custom dictated that the man’s side had to propose, Eugene Han’s conduct hardly seemed considerate of her, even to outsiders who knew nothing about them.
Somehow, that meaningless engagement had dragged on for more than ten years, and they were still a couple frequently mentioned in Oxpin’s gossip.
There was no doubt that Eugene Han was at the center of conversation in Oxpin, what with his family, his social standing, every aspect of his business, and even his marriage prospects.
In any case, rehearsals began for the first full-scale performance, centered around Lily and Eugene. For the first two days, Lily sometimes conducted lessons herself and sometimes observed other classes, seemingly assessing each company member’s abilities. Soon, she began serious rehearsals.
Just as Eugene Han had judged, Lily also appeared to hold Rory’s abilities in high regard. Her choreography was built primarily around ballet, with other genres serving as embellishment.
Naturally, everything revolved around Rory, who could perform every genre to near perfection. With eyes as sharp as a hawk’s, she filled in the other elements as well.
The company members were desperate to catch Lily’s eye. They all understood her feelings perfectly—the desire to do well, the flushed faces—because she herself had felt the same way.
“After Rory’s solo here, it would be nice if someone filled the space before the ensemble comes out. Who can do acrobatics?”
“I’ll try.”
In the middle of the lesson, Lily tossed out the question absently, apparently deep in thought over the transition. Gina’s ears perked up, and she shot her hand into the air. She had no idea where that confidence came from, but it was probably instinct—the instinct to survive here.
Lily looked briefly surprised as Gina stepped forward, then gestured toward the floor. Gina took a few steps back, sprinted forward, and sprang into a light aerial.
When she twisted her body after landing, the first face she saw was Rory’s, smiling and winking at her. I did well. At the same time, thunderous applause erupted around the room, and only then did Gina finally relax.
“Clean. Very good. What’s your name?”
“Gina. Gina Grinnell.”
“Good work, Miss Grinnell.”
“Thank you.”
Lily’s elegant, kind face broke into a satisfied smile, and Gina’s heart swelled a little. She had no idea when she would master ballet, but she was extremely confident in the other areas.
That damn ballet was the problem. Since Eugene Han’s merciless first lesson, they had practiced the same movements several times, yet every time she received exactly the same astonishingly precise criticisms from him and ended up a complete mess. But the more she trained here, the more she understood for herself why it mattered.
Before, she had moved like a wild horse with its reins cut loose. Now she was learning how to control that overflowing strength and the logic of using her body with greater subtlety. The more she practiced ballet, the more solid the center of her body felt. Desperate to close the gap between herself and the others as quickly as possible, she grew restless.
They had been working on the choreography for quite some time when she heard a door open somewhere to one side. Everyone’s attention turned in that direction, and it was Eugene Han.
He wore an immaculate suit and carried the staff he always had with him. Gina saw him exchange a greeting with Lily using only their eyes.
Tension was plain on the company members’ faces. Eugene Han’s mere appearance changed the atmosphere in the rehearsal room, and the lesson resumed.
“You’re the only one whose arms are lagging. Hurry up and catch up, Mr. Wood.”
As always, the man began pacing around the rehearsal room with his hands clasped behind his back. Gina could feel the tension rise in everyone’s movements, including her own.
“Chadman, I have no idea what you’re trying to do.”
The company members carefully reflected the man’s critiques in their movements. Heat filled the far-from-small rehearsal room, and the only sounds were everyone’s feet striking the floor and their rough breathing.
They were still near the beginning of the piece, and had nearly finished reviewing the small amount they had learned so far. They were performing the final ballet ensemble when the piano accompaniment suddenly stopped. Everyone froze, and when Gina looked ahead, Eugene’s gaze was fixed on her.
“You seem to have thrown away several days, Grinnell. Don’t tell me you think the audience will want to see that.”
“Eugene.”
“Go to the back row during the ensemble.”
She had thought he might let her off today, but of course not. Maybe it was only her imagination, but ever since their private lessons, the man seemed even more intent on scrutinizing every one of her movements.
But still—the very back row of the ensemble? Wasn’t that a cruel way of telling her not even to be visible? And on top of that, he had come into her class and interrupted the flow, constantly adding his own comments. Lily seemed displeased and stepped in to stop him, but the man showed no sign of backing down.
“Eugene, this is my class.”
“My apologies.”
Eugene raised both hands and stepped back at Lily’s words, but his expression was utterly unapologetic, unlike his polite words. She shook her head several times in disbelief, then continued the lesson.
Several dozen minutes later, after rehearsal ended, Gina saw the man and woman leave the rehearsal room together, chatting affectionately as if they had never clashed at all.
The man’s large hand expertly wrapped around Lily’s back as he escorted her. For some reason, Gina couldn’t easily tear her eyes away from the sight.
“Gina.”
“Hm?”
She turned at the familiar voice calling her. Rory, who had performed better than anyone else that day, was drenched in sweat.
“You were incredible today.”
“No, that was you… I got chewed out again and made a total mess.”
“What are you doing tomorrow? You’re off, right?”
“Yeah. Assuming I don’t die after today’s rehearsal.”
“Then stay alive and come hang out with me. Come to Müller. I’ll buy the beer.”
Rory burst out laughing at Gina’s nearly resigned tone. Watching everyone gather their belongings and leave the rehearsal room, Gina felt envious for a moment. Then she returned to the warm-up stretches she had started again.
With a little time left, she rose, thinking she might at least get some water, and saw Eugene Han’s staff propped against the wall beside the full-length mirror. So much for pretending to be perfect—he left his own things lying around. She scoffed inwardly and picked it up.
The head of the staff was an exquisitely crafted metal ornament, as though an aggressive jaguar’s head had been preserved exactly as it was. It gleamed so brightly she couldn’t tell whether it was gold or silver, and it looked more expensive than anything she had ever seen.
Since she would have to move to another space to practice with Eugene and leaving it here made it likely to be lost, she decided to be kind, just for today.
She had never been there, but she knew from bits and pieces she had overheard the company members say that Eugene Han’s office was at the far end of the second floor. With almost everyone gone, she climbed the empty wooden stairs and entered the second-floor corridor.
As she approached, she saw that the door was slightly open. Why? Tension crept into her body before she knew it. She grasped the doorknob and carefully widened the gap, revealing a man and woman sitting on the sofa.
More precisely, it was Lily Burnett straddling Eugene Han’s lap, the two of them pressed tightly together as they shared a deep kiss. The moment she understood what she was seeing, Gina couldn’t breathe. She twisted around and hurriedly pressed her back against the wall.
Oh my God. Her face burned, and her heart pounded like mad. Afraid someone might see her, she rushed back to the first floor.
She slipped into the rehearsal room he had assigned her and sank to the floor, covering her face with both hands. She didn’t even hear the door slam shut behind her.
What was this feeling? Seeing something she shouldn’t have had suddenly struck her heart, throwing her thoughts into confusion. How much time had passed? She sat blankly on the floor, forgetting even to finish her stretches, until the door opened and the man entered.
She hauled up her heavy, distracted body and stood in place. As usual, he sat down at the piano and began the accompaniment.
She stood holding the barre and stared vacantly at the mirror. She had no idea where she was getting the nerve, but her feet would not move even with the accompaniment that had always felt like a solemn duty. The performance, which had seemed as though it would continue forever, eventually stopped.
Through the mirror in front of her, she met the gaze of the man sitting at the piano. Without asking what was wrong, he remained silent for a long while.
With only her lips moving in the distance between them, a distance she could never reach, Gina began extending her arms and legs again. She felt as though she kept forgetting the role he wanted her to play.