[jack-katz]

“Yes, I had a few drinks at Jeremy’s party. How is that your business?”

[gabriel-caruso]

“Okay, okay, guess it’s not. Sorry, was just hoping you had a good time. Calm down already, it was just something Jayna mentioned.”

[sofiartamonova-deactivated20151]

The first performance for the Nutcracker streamed at the Mariinsky Theater in the heart of St. Petersburg, Russia. Applauded by an audience, the polite higher class applause, for such show was first recorded on the cold month of December of 1892. Although critics declared the show to be odd, confusing, and a story to not be told for generations; the Nutcracker turned around with another performance, back to back to back, until it became a phenomenon and a tradition for all companies to perform. The Nutcracker became a classic. Even more so for Russian ballerinas. Sofia can still recall the first live performance her mother made her sit through of the Christmas tale, how her domineering mother ushered words throughout to persuade her little daughter of how important this piece will be to her one day. It was then that she carried the pressure of success. She must be the front and center of the classical performance or else she would have failed her mother. As of the looks of it now, her mother fashions the trend of disappointment. How is her daughter, who she deeply believed could do better, only be a corps. Only the Flower Queen? Who cares about the Flower Queen?

Sofia misses the prior days when stress did not weigh more than a bucket of cold water. The days she could lounge around with amusing friends after practice, and those days of apprenticeship when thoughts were not clouded of pushing her body to completely new levels. But she saw her mother, her hair turning grey from age, and she knew that she had to work harder. She had to make her mother proud. That’s when her fun dropped, her carefree personality became shadowed by the consistency of wasting time at the studio for more practice. It came to the point that ballet was what she ate, slept, and breathed. It was her oxygen. She was not foolish to notice that her contract had not been renewed. Growing desperate, catching her mother’s glares, Sofia broke all barriers by blackmailing Master Bernard to give her the corps contract. Guilt ate away her soul, so bad, that she ended her relationship with Gabriel in order to focus primarily on ballet. She had to work even harder. Especially on her stage fright if she plans to ever receive the main role. 

The Russian could immediately tell from his clear cut words that her talking to him was disruptive. It irritated her. Their casual friendship was no longer present. Now she felt foolish for calling him out. Though, Mark had insisted that the least she could do was apologize to his brother. He deserved that much. And he was right, her sudden departure from him in the past was never explained. There was no easy way around this, so she might as well just talk. “I’m sorry.” Sofia finally breathed out, her chest falling as if those words shed a few pounds off of her. “I know the expiration date is long after due, but I still owe you an apology from before.” 

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabriel shrugged, he wasn’t really waiting for an apology from Sofia, those days were long gone. He’d grown up and moved on. Now he was only focused on his dancing and his personal development. It was probably a good thing that things had ended when they had, who could have guessed whether the relationship would have lasted anyway? It probably wouldn’t have done, they were young and pretty reckless. All they had wanted was a corps contract. Gabriel had one now, it was onto the next stage in his dancing and the opportunities he could create for himself.

He wasn’t going to lie and pretend that he hadn’t looked out for Sofia and noticed her dancing. It had given him so vindictive pleasure at times to realise that she wasn’t progressing as quickly as some of the other young dancers. He had liked knowing that she was paying a price too. However, he didn’t feel like that anymore, he wanted what was best for everyone he knew. They were a company and he cared about the dancers who had risen through the ranks with him. Hopefully she would do well for herself too, that’s all he could hope for.

“Apology accepted,” he told her with a sharp nod, wondering what she was gaining by interrupting his rehearsal (and her own) to speak to him. Didn’t she want to improve? That took effort and resilience, not friendships and fixing relationships. You had to be cruel to be kind. He had time for personal contact when he was done with rehearsal but not right now. Right now he needed to get his turns right. When he was onstage, he needed the critics to notice him and want him to do more. Once he had them under his thumb, the company would have to follow. “What are you rehearsing?” he asked her, trying to consider whether he would need to find somewhere with more space. He wouldn’t need much but she might and it was important to be courteous.

Shuffling over to the barre, he dumped his stuff on the floor and began his rises and grande battement exercises. Feeling his limbs beginning to loosen, he smiled a little to himself, desperate to push himself further, improve his lines and his overall appearance. He was strong and he would keep going. Sofia didn’t even come into that.

[mambverick]

Philip found himself tore between raising a perfectly suspicious brow towards the other male and simply letting it go. Truth to be told, he knew his welcoming into the company wasn’t exactly warm. Actually, far the opposite of that. The other dancers didn’t feel like being nice to the one person who got in without as much work as them. Shame that none had any idea of what he did to get where he stood. A life of essentially no choice was spent in Paris, breathing the Baptiste legacy as if it was oxygen. Philip knew pressure, sacrifice, effort, probably as much as his colleagues, if not more than them, but no one was interested.

                        It was easier to judge the new comer than to sympathize with him.                         Philip was just another name on the competition, after all.                         The City Ballet’s dancers made sure to let him know this much.

“No problem,” Philip decided to go for neutral, an apathetic smile growing on his lips as he got up and shoved his cellphone back into his pocket. “Siblings can be a distraction, indeed…” He had no idea where Gabriel stood amongst the groups that wanted him there or not. Better not to give someone a reason to sabotage him later on. If ballerinas thought they were the only ones to suffer with broken glass and nails on their pointe, well, that’s because they never knew what the male dancers had on their plates as well. 

“When we don’t have rehearsals in a bit, honestly?” Philip shrugged his shoulders, both hands running through his hair as to keep him from sighing too loud. It was clear he was tired. Not physically, though. More on the lines of ‘Lara Baptiste takes all my energy’. “But, yeah. I’m just getting some rest before getting back to work… you?”

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabriel let out a relieved huff, nodding quickly. His mind was still stuck on the image of his brother and Mark, and the huge gulf between them. He’d speak to Mark about it soon, he promised himself, deciding that he would delete the text though. This was a conversation they had to have face-to-face. Choosing to pretend the problem didn’t exist for the moment, he squared his shoulders and looked at Pip curiously. There were few people in the company he knew less about than this man and it was strange, he knew most of the male members fairly well, if for no other reason than they were friends with Mark.

“Yeah, always feels a bit like we’re still in grade school and holding a contest to see who can build the better sandcastle. Not sure we ever really grew up.” He shrugged, smiling at the other man, grateful that he hadn’t pushed him too far. That was the easiest way to keep going really, don’t ask questions and don’t pry. He wouldn’t ask about the phone call, that was his way to keep up the bargain. Not knowing was probably better than asking anyway, then he’d be drawn into a problem he didn’t want to consider. Feigning ignorance, dancing hard and performing well – that was the combination that would best pave the way to success.

“True,” he admitted, looking at the ground, where he was flexing his feet absent mindedly. It was habit at this point, his feet were always moving. “I have Nutcracker rehearsal in a bit, just wanted to grab a snack and some coffee. Pretty sure the only thing that keeps me going in performance season is caffeine.” The hard work was worth it though, he had to believe that.

[aliceycrning-deactivated2016020]

               Some might choose to not fraternise with the other family members of those whom they decided to sleep with. But Alice had not been one for following the rules in her personal life and some of it removed a lot of suspicion. Her niceties were well-known amongst members of the company. Sometimes, it earned her enemies. She shouldn’t spend so much time carving out relationships that wouldn’t last beyond backstage, some said.

                               What they didn’t know is that she didn’t                                spend a lot of time. She spent very little;                                she was just kind, maternal, and good.                                That got her f u r t h e r than pettiness.

“I think you more than deserve it. I wish the decision was left up to me, ‘cause I like to think I can see the whole potential thing and know it when I see it.” Then again, if the decisions were left up to her, as Michael liked to joke, then she would adopt each orphan on the street and let them learn what it was like to be a dancer - or whatever else they might want to become. “But this kind of makes me curious - if you could’ve chosen anything, without that fear of not being as good in it as in ballet, then what might you have done instead?”

          She nodded. She remembered that rise. It was nice to see it again, to see that despite all that had happened, the cycle continued. The coffee had cooled off a little, and the next time she took a sip, it wasn’t with the scalding heat of the freshly-poured liquid, but a comfortable and soothing warmth.

                                         “I mean, even at this stage of the game, people like to talk down to you. I don’t think it really ever goes away. There’s always going to be someone who strives to be everything you aren’t and make sure you remember your faults. It’s just how you choose to handle it and all of that.”

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabe couldn’t help but smile at the woman in front of him, “Thank you,” he replied quietly. One day he would get there, of course he had faith in that, but whether it was right then and there or a few years’ time, he had to be ready for the moment. He would show the audience everything he was capable of and prove that he was more than just the little brother of a superior dancer. That was his greatest fear, that he was only here because of Mark. Perhaps there would come a day when he could show, once and for all, that it wasn’t the case.

Humming, he considered what he would have done as he drank some more of his coffee. “I loved math,” he told her, thinking back to his years before ballet, and even some of the time afterwards. “I wanted to work in a scientific field, I suppose. I had dreams of being a surgeon and saving lives. It was probably a really fanciful version of their lives, but then all the little girls dreaming of a ballerina are the same way with dance. I wanted to impact people’s lives, anyway, maybe research for cancer or dementia, something like that. Be the change you want to see in the world and all that.” He had been fairly studious, never top of his class, but he did enough to get by. He tended to get on well with those he studied alongside and that made his life easier. Really, he could have done anything he wanted, but he had chosen to enter the gruelling world of dance instead. “What would you have done?” he asked her, genuinely curious about the company’s lives before professional dance.

Listening to her made him think about his future as more than the abstract. “I think you’ve got a pretty good head on your shoulders,” he told her. Except sleeping with his brother when she had a husband at home, he couldn’t forget that small piece of information. “Seems like it’d be pretty hard to replace you, you are the golden girl.” It was strange to think that there would always be those who thought they knew better. Maybe one day he would understand where she was coming from, but right now getting to the top of the company seemed like it would solve all of his problems.

[michavdberg]

Introdans by Hf Photography Via Flickr: Bon Appetit

[grahamspano-deactivated20161129]

Graham took a fifth position, in preparation to catch the exercise once they were working a la seconde. The younger Caruso was one of the only male dancers that Graham knew to take himself so seriously, not that the others weren’t serious about dance but they put up with Graham’s antics and many of them even enjoyed them. Graham knew he was at fault here, however, disrupting class and distracting Gabriel but he really preferred not to admit this.  “Better late than never.” 

[gabriel-caruso]

He couldn’t help but smile a little at Graham’s reply. No matter how seriously he forced himself to take the rehearsal, it was amusing to see the other dancer’s attitude. “Anyone would think you didn’t care,” he said but his tone was amused by this point. There was no real purpose in him pretending to stay angry. Though he did quickly check that he hadn’t missed anything. He was determined to do everything perfectly first time through, or as close to perfection as he could get it. Soon enough they would be allowed to grab some water or would swap out to let someone else on the barre and he could continue teasing the other dancer then.

[veraautissier-blog]

People often assumed that principals tended to ignore and not interact with the corps dancers in general because they were haughty and snobby, but it wasn’t much the case. In such a strict hierarchy, people always saw the system as black and white but they were all similar: principals used to be corps, and corps want to be principals.

Principals didn’t purposely function separately from the corps; schedules just didn’t often intersect until entire choreography was put together. Plus, age was also a significant reason — Vera had no idea how to talk to some of the apprentices, especially the young ones that seemed to even speak a different sort of language.

She felt old sometimes. Like time was running out.

Vera didn’t bother acknowledging Gabriel’s gratitude. To her, she didn’t help people because she liked them or thought they were good dancers. It was so they wouldn’t drag down the company and the art. Some took her words to heart, others didn’t. Some were insulted, others were honored. Either way, Vera didn’t care and continued stretching.

“It took me about two years to get to soloist, and fourteen months to be promoted to principal—a month after my 21st birthday,” Vera recalled that those fourteen months were the most difficult time in her life. She had spent half of those fourteen months being injured.

However, she smiled slightly, amused at Gabriel’s question. Not many people asked such a blunt question. The topic of promotion was usually whispered among the younger dancers rather than spoken about outright.“Why? Expecting a promotion soon?” Vera teased.

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabe could feel the muscles in his legs tugging in a way that he knew wasn’t healthy. It definitely wouldn’t do to overstretch and hurt his legs before he even began jumping. The little bit of extra flexibility wouldn’t be worth it when an injury would then take him out and stop him from performing for months. Dancers far greater than him had been ruined by one move and he wasn’t chancing it.

Instead he switched legs and continued focusing on the corrections Vera had offered. He was grateful, anything to improve his art form was going to be well received by Gabriel. Besides which, he was used to it – with an older brother in the same path, there was no way he would have gone through the entirety of his life escaping criticism. Constructive criticism, sure, but criticism nonetheless.

He acknowledged Vera’s words with a slight laugh. Turning around once he was satisfied that he was sufficiently warmed up, he shrugged. “Definitely not expecting, no. I do hope though, obviously. I don’t think anyone would want me here if I didn’t have aspirations to be the best.” It was tough, being at the bottom, but he supposed that it was also a positive experience. He had some of the most esteemed dancers in the world to look up to and a support network of dancers of a similar age and with the same life experiences as him. Being part of a company could only be a good thing. “I don’t think I’d believe anyone who told me they weren’t chasing the same thing. It’s a modesty thing when people say that, or at least I think it is.”

[olympiansrpg-deactivated2017011]

“Very funny. No wonder the girls are hanging off your arms.” Sam cast Gabriel a quick glance, before raising an eyebrow at his friend’s words. “Penelope? That’s who you’re wooing this week?” He asked, barely able to keep himself from saying anything more. Gabe knew enough that he never liked Penny, especially because she seemed to be around Isaac more often than not. The line of question directed back towards him was uncomfortable, though, and he made a face. “No, I’m - I don’t need to be set up. I’m perfectly capable of finding my own dates unlike some people, thank you very much. And I don’t like anyone, what is this, high school?” 

[gabriel-caruso]

“Maybe they secretly have a thing for you and are just using me as a way to get there quicker?” Gabe suggested with a smirk, generally pretty confident in his own appeal, it did wonders for his dancing to have a little bit of vanity. Or so he told himself when necessary. Sighing, he turned to stare at his friend, drinking his coffee, before pursing his lips as he thought about what to say to Sam. “I’m not wooing her, no,” he told him, it was true – he had no desire to be in a relationship with the girl and was fairly certain she felt the same about him. It was just a useful arrangement for the time being so that they could both be pretty satisfied. Laughing at his friend’s frown, he poked him in the arm, “Very convincing. I definitely don’t think you’re interested in anyone with such evasive answers. Look, you can tell me, okay?” Glancing over, he shrugged, “Ballet seems plenty like high school to me. Anyway, you’re never too old for a harmless crush.”

[sofiartamonova-deactivated20151]

( @gabriel-caruso )

(( They looked at her with wide eyes, attention gleaming like spotlight front and center, and the melody behind casted away tucked behind the velvet curtain replaced with the occupying space of silence formed by the audience. Lover of the arts, classics indeed, they were tasting the fine wine of this modern production of Cinderella with an added ingredient of comedy. And it was the dancers’ responsibility to slip them into the appreciation of such art form in ballet. For one certain ballerina, Sofia, that was pressure. That was fright. 

The Fairy Godmother took the center stage with Cinderella behind in her pumpkin carriage, and the corps dancers welcomed the scene as support to the beauty of the fairy tale. She could feel the focus on her, when in reality focus scattered to every ballerina, but in Sofia’s mind pressure was heavy. Her stress hormones were acting up. Her eyes locked with one in the audience, her heart picked up in pace, and she could feel her joints lock up with tension. Her techniques were failing, and she appeared shaken up rather than elegance like her mother would exaggerate. Failing to perform well, feeling ashamed, she could no longer take it and walked away from stage once she was at one end of the backstage where she could sneak off without primary focus. ))

The young corps examined herself with the mirror upfront across the studio. Don’t screw this up, Sofia. You can do this. You can dance like the rest. Getting in position, she practiced and practiced in order to do well with her upcoming show of the Nutcracker - a holiday tradition. Running through her choreography of the Flower Waltz, she did not fail to notice the tapping of footsteps from the halls because of the opened door. Trailing her attention over, she met the figure of Gabriel Caruso; once friend, once boyfriend, now just another dancer in the room. 

Her dancing came to a halt, and Sofia was left with flat feet. The tension between the two was as thick as the one she carried with the audience if not thicker. She had paused their relationship for selfish needs of wanting to focus just on her dancing. She just left him with no good reason. She should have apologized for that a long time ago but her foolish mind tugged her back. Though, at this moment, it played another card. “Gabriel!” She hollered his name, and she quickly wanted to take it back. Taking caution steps over, she made her presence closer to the opened door with a nervous smile. “Hey, it’s been a while.” Of course, here comes the awkward Russian. 

[gabriel-caruso]

Rehearsal, rehearsal, rehearsal. It was the most important part of Gabriel’s life right now. All that mattered was doing the absolute best he could for those performances of the Nutcracker. Of course, there were other shows and he loved doing them, but there was something special about the perennial Christmas classic. It was almost as if it was on a different level to every other performance. If he ever wanted the promotion he was so desperately chasing, it would require him doing this perfectly. It was his opportunity to improve and to get better but it took all the extra effort.

He was stuck in his own head right now, trying to remember the counts and the steps and the movements he needed to do. There was nobody he was expecting to talk to him so he jumped a little when he heard a voice shouting his name. Turning slowly towards the voice, he sighed when he realised who was speaking. He didn’t move though, instead he let her come closer, accepting that they were going to speak and that he was going to have to accept the conversation. Perhaps it was something important, he doubted that the girl would speak to him otherwise. It had been a long time and she had been keen to stay away. Just after she had ended things, he had wondered if it had been him who had messed up. There had to have been something he had done to make her so annoyed, but he had since realised that he probably hadn’t. Girls were strange.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice coming out a little sharp, all he wanted to do was practice, for goodness sake. “What did you want to talk about?” He moved a little closer into the room and leant against the wall, looking at her straight in the eye. They were no longer kids and he was far more confident than he had been back in the days of injury and apprenticeships and everything else that came with being at the bottom of the ladder. Now he just wanted to get on with things and be able to dance, even if Sofia was currently stopping that from happening.

[aliceycrning-deactivated2016020]

               The coffee’s warmth on her hands brought a surge of comfort. No one realised how the smaller moments in life were so beneficial to keeping one’s sanity. And she was glad she seemed to be able to bring him back down from whatever ballet-high he’d claimed for himself. It was important to, although be invested in the craft, to not be completely L O S T. 

                              That was a recipe for disaster.                                               It made you feel like you were                                   the only person in the world                                               who was having difficulties.

“If there’s actually an easier career out there, toss it my way. Maybe one that’ll support back injuries and not potentially worsen them.” It was half of a joke. Alice wouldn’t be able to do much else if she couldn’t dance, although she’d been forced to consider it after being bedridden for a few days after the surgery - with little hopeful outlooks on what might happen. But to be seated in an office chair, typing things up for others, no potential for growth? That wouldn’t suit her. Nothing would suit her except for this life.

                                Flattening her mouth, she found herself sympathising perhaps even more than she had anticipated she would beforehand. He’d been out for injury? And so soon. Much younger than she had been. No wonder he was doing everything in his power to strengthen up his muscles. To prevent another injury would be to prevent a career from ending permanently.

       “Trust me, if I can make it back,          anyone can make it back. I’m          glad you’re not giving up on it.”

                                                                 And she was. She wanted everyone to have that sort of confidence to continue onwards ( even if such an outlook towards others was unrealistic. ) She took a sip from her latte and pressed her palms harder against the body of the cup. It wasn’t cold in here, but thinking of optimism and Stella’s death and the world made her receive a chill. Some things couldn’t save you, no matter how much you relied on them.

“I wish mine could still help me. U g h. It gets to the point where they’re like - sorry, we won’t talk to your parents, we only want to deal with you. Can’t I just go back to frillier tutus and only worrying about class three times a week and feeling excited about all this again?”

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabe laughed, he knew what Alice meant. Ballet had a method of only making everything worse, yet they would all stick by it to the end, he knew that much. Once you were in the system, you remained in the system. There was no way he would allow himself to fail right now. He didn’t want to like her, not after everything with his brother and how that made him feel, but he understood her, and he did enjoy her company. Perhaps there really was two sides to every story, not that he’d ever truly get why they did what they did.

“I can’t imagine doing anything except this now. I have to be grateful to Mark for getting us both into it. I’m not sure we’d be anywhere near as successful in a different career.” There just wasn’t the same level of progression in other careers, in ballet it was definitely based off how you did. It was about your own ability and how well you owned the stage. Sometimes he wondered if that would happen elsewhere or if other factors would come into play. He doubted that an office would be as great a family for him as the theatre was.

He could almost see the moment that she gathered just how bad his injury had been, just how stupid a time he had managed to get himself benched. It wasn’t how he had wanted his early professional years to go but he had still managed to be a corps member. This was still his life, even after the injury. “Oh no, I’d definitely not give up. Just means I’ve got to work harder to show them all that I’m fine and that I deserve a soloist role.” That was his goal right now, after all, to make it one step further up the ladder. It would happen soon, he had to keep that faith.

Laughing a little, he took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. “I suppose it just means that they think you’re capable of standing up for yourself and being your own person. It’s nice not to be talked down to. I have to say that I do like having the younger dancers rising up through to the corps, it means I’m not the youngest anymore. As horrible as it is to have to stand on your own two feet sometimes, it’s no worse than being babied.”

[gabriel-caruso]

“Why are you hugging me?”

Looking down, Gabe shrugged, stepping away. For a second hehad forgotten where they were, that her sister could walk in and see them atany moment. His brother could too, and then he would have to explain. He hadmade a huge mistake and he knew that now that he thought about it. “Yeah,sorry, of course,” he muttered, turning away to walk off. At the last second heremembered he was still carrying her pointe shoes, had put them in his holdallto protect them from the rain outside. Grappling for them, he passed them over,“Here,” he offered, a small smile on his face to mask the hurt. “Hope rehearsalgoes well.”

[gabriel-caruso]

“No flower or scenery can compare to your beauty.”

Gabe recoiled a little. He wasn’t sure what to say really.On the one hand, he was obviously glad that Jayna found him physicallyattractive, but was that all their relationship was? Did she only care abouthim because he was hot? That wasn’t why he was with her – though she was, ofcourse, beautiful too. “Thank you,” he murmured, rolling away from her on thecouch, his thoughts tumbling about his head, confusing him all the more. “I-“he stopped talking, wondering if she would say anything else. In the end, hesighed and stopped, before taking her hand gently in his. “Thank you,” hemurmured softly, leaning over, checking nobody was around first, and kissingher.

[mambverick]

Philip had been ignoring her calls for days, to the point where seeing his sister’s name on the screen and shoving the device back on his bag became part of his routine. Lara wouldn’t give up, but Philip wasn’t likely to give in, either. He knew where their conversation would lead, and how she would wear that tyrannical voice and command her baby brother to go back immediately. Pip didn’t want to hear ( even though he was growing tired of running away from her ). But every call he didn’t take was another sigh on his lips, another moment of distraction. Miles away from Paris and his family still managed to make his life miserable.

It  h a d  to end.

The raven haired man took a deep breath, hands taking the phone out of his sweatpants’ pocket as to answer it. “Enfin!” was the first word to hit him. Lara wasn’t exactly known for her delicacy, anyway. “Quoi?” was all Philip said back. He was ready to draw a line between his new life and his past; to tell Lara Baptiste that she wasn’t rule him around any longer. But she wasn’t just as ready to listen. The ballerina just kept on going about how his decision had affected their mother, or how father didn’t talk for weeks now. Emotional threats here and there, and Lara thought she could bring him back. Typical.

”Lara!” he called out, waiting for her to fall silent as he sat down on the floor, legs extended in front of him. “Ça suffit! Je m’en fou. Je ne vais pas revenir.” Philip said in his totalitarian voice. “Je dois partir maintenant…” but Lara didn’t answer. She just hung up on him and left Philip mentally swearing his family for being, well, them. Yet, there was still something worst than having Lara angry at him, and that was arguing with her in front of someone else without even realizing it. “I’m sorry for that, I– I didn’t see you there.”

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabe had been hiding in the corner after seeing Michael around the corner with Mark, his phone in one hand to make it look like he had something to do. It wasn’t that he was avoiding them – well, it was – but he had good reasons. If his brother and Michael and Alice and all the rest of them didn’t want the company to be torn in two, they should all just go back to where they were supposed to be and allow Gabriel the opportunity to relax for a few seconds. He’d have to tell Michael soon, he knew that, it was killing him pretending that he knew absolutely nothing when the stakes were so high. It wasn’t just a marriage, it was their entire group, it was all of their ballet. Every time he spoke to Alice, he felt like he was committing a betrayal right then and there for not telling her husband what he knew. This was all going to have to change.

He was just typing out a message to Mark, trying to explain that he knew about the affair, when he heard a voice a small distance away. Peeking out of his alcove to see who it was, he recoiled a little again, wondering whether he was supposed to hear this. The corps were such a small, contained group and they were always fighting against one another for the next promotion, it just felt like too much of an insight into the competition. That was especially important considering who it was he could overhear. Philip hadn’t had to go through the apprenticeship, he hadn’t had to suffer the same as the rest of the corps. He seemed like a perfectly nice person, but Gabe couldn’t help but resent the little bit less work it had taken him to come here. Now though, they were on stage together, and Gabe had to work out how to get out of here without being seen.

It was just as he snuck past, mostly on his tiptoes, that the call ended and the other man looked up. Gabe came crashing to a halt, his fingers pushing his hair out of his eyes frantically as he tried to work out how he could stop this being awkward. “Yeah, hi, sorry, my brother was just around the corner so I walked the other way – need to practice so I don’t have time for all the talking and whatever.” Oh god, he was talking too much, he was overcompensating to pretend he didn’t hear angry French words. Well, he understood a few of them, he supposed, but probably not enough to translate the conversation, so why was he so worried? “Anyway, you got rehearsal in a bit?” he asked, deciding to just change the conversation topic.

[misspenelopewang-blog]

For such an enthusiastic person, it wasn’t necessarily easy to relax on days off. Penelope seldom took ‘days off’—perhaps it was something engrained in her since she was little, that people who took days off fell behind. But beyond that, she genuinely loved to dance on the days she was given off; there was an ease to it. It brought her back to a place she loved. 

That didn’t mean, however, she didn’t appreciate spending time with Gabe, not having to care much about anything for a few hours. She raised an eyebrow and her mouth forming into an ‘o’ of pleasant surprise, “I had no idea you were such a chef.” It held a light undertone of teasing, as followed with a laugh, “Don’t worry. We can order in. The whole point of relaxing is that you don’t have to do anything, right?”

Naturally, Penelope closed the small distance between them, resting her head on his shoulder. It’s not as though it had to be presumptuous (even though in her mind, it maybe was—okay, it was). Generally speaking, Penelope loved to cuddle and give hugs to anyone who wanted her affection. She leaned forward to place the bowl on his leg, getting a bit more comfortable, before she shrugged, “Pick anything; I’m always up for a good surprise.” 

[gabriel-caruso]

Rolling his eyes, Gabe pinched her on the arm gently. “Shut up, I am a mature and sophisticated adult. I have a steady income and an amazing job. I can totally cook.” Granted, it was probably limited to about six meals but he considered that absolutely fine, the college students he knew would probably be the same. “Anyway, take-out is fine by me. Just thought you might want something home cooked, it’s not like it takes long.” Smiling at her, he found himself, almost unwittingly, considering the calorie content and the fat content of all the various options for take-out. It was a habit he still found himself falling back on, even years after he had finally got over his eating disorder. Maybe it was something that would never go away.

Once Penelope was comfortable, Gabe tightened his arm around her waist and shuffled ever close to her. He looked up at the screen and started one of the Brat Pack movies, he wasn’t even sure which one. The same few actors appeared on the screen and he found that he was okay with that. They had their thing and the rest of the world appreciated them for what they could do. It sometimes seemed to Gabe he wouldn’t get anything more than what he had now, that he might become something of a joke too. All he wanted was to get out of the corps. Maybe he should have been practicing on that particular day off after all.

Instead he was there with his friend and, right at that minute, it had to be seen as being more important. He loved spending time with her, they got on really well and it made him feel like he had someone on his side in the corps. Being close with those around him was important, he had realised that pretty early on. The competition was intense but they were good friends to one another and that would always be an important truth. “What do you think about the Nutcracker casting?” he asked Penny after a few moments of silence, looking away from the opening credits to glance at her, wondering what she had thought about the different roles.

[olympiansrpg-deactivated2017011]

Sam jumped slightly at the arm, though he continued with the coffee so he could step out of the way. “What am I, your personal gossip bank? There’s got to be some give-and-take to a friendship, Gabe.” He rolled his eyes, as he slid down the wall to take a seat beside Gabriel. “Plus, you don’t have to be subtle around me. I know you’re asking about Penny and Jay and no - I still don’t care about Penelope. I thought I saw Jayna talking to your brother the other day. Ugh. Why don’t you just say something instead of going through me? I’ve got my own love life to worry about.” A pause. “Mm, no, I don’t. I don’t like being sneaky unlike some people I know.” 

[gabriel-caruso]

Gabe chuckled, grinning at his friend, “No, you’re just my slave,” he told him, messing his hair up before he leant back against the wall again and considered his friend’s words. “Anyway, I do care about more than them. I met up with Penny on our day off anyway, I know how she is, she’s great, she’s awesome. Now sound a bit happier for my love life here, man.” Looking over, he narrowed his eyes, “Wait, do you like someone? Who is it? Can I set you up? I will totally set you up. I am brilliant at setting people up.” Relishing in their conversation, he arched his feet, thrilled at the turn this was taking, he really didn’t have enough close friends like this in the company.

[gabriel-caruso]

Sitting on the couch, a bowl of reduced-fat crackers in front of him, Gabriel was content. It was his one day off of the week, he was able to spend it watching bad eighties movies and Penelope was at his side making him laugh. All in all, it was a good day and it was hopefully going to be a good night too.

“I fancy stir fry,” he told her, “I’m even willing to make it if you ask nicely enough.” Smiling at her, he looked back at Netflix, wondering what they were going to watch next. It had better be something terrible though, there were just those days when you really needed to watch something bad to remind yourself exactly why the things you loved were so good. Throwing an arm around the girl next to him, he pulled her a little bit closer, their ankles touching and the rest of their legs only containing a small distance between them at this point.

“What do you want to watch?” he asked her, clicking through a variety of tabs, trying to find a stand-out movie, something they absolutely had to see. “Or shall we just click on something we’ve never heard of and find out what it is the original way?” Leaning forward briefly, he grabbed a cracker and ate it, just pleased that he had nowhere pressing to be and that his muscles could have a day off. Really, it was everything he had looked forward to all week.

[olympiansrpg-deactivated2017011]

There was something about early mornings that energized Sam - perhaps it was because he hated being alone in his apartment, or simply the fact that he got to live another day doing something he loved, but his steps were light as he stepped out of the room after a morning rehearsal, heading towards the nearest coffee machine as their break began. “You know, my mom actually never drinks coffee. She says it’s bad for her blood pressure, and she keeps telling me not to drink it, either. But then again, she doesn’t know a thing about how – wait. I’m talking too much again. Sorry.” 

[gabriel-caruso]

Throwing a friendly arm around Sam’s shoulder, Gabriel shrugged. “A bit maybe, it is very early, but it’s not like caffeine will help with that.” The break was a good chance for a chat, and the opportunity to catch up over the gossip that he had missed. “Anyway, hurry up, I want my own coffee here, man.” Once he made it to the machine, he made his drink as black as possible and smiled when he finally began to drink it. Hopefully it would wake him up. Dragging Sam with him to a corner to sit down and talk for a bit, he relaxed a little, “So, any news for me?” he asked him.