Can I Have This Dance?

Take my hand, take a breath

Pull me close and take one step

Keep your eyes aligned to mine

And let the music be your guide

-----------------------------------------

"What do you mean Abby can't perform?"

She had told herself that being a backup dancer basically meant that she would do nothing to help on tour. She would have some peace and quiet for once.

"Are you sure? There's no one else?"

She had also told herself that was only the backup because she had performed with the main male dancer before.

Oh, how wrong she was.

-----------------------------------------

Naomi finds herself in a quiet dance studio, stretching her legs with her back against the cold, grey vinyl floor. She alternates in extending her limbs, making sure to stretch her back as well.

From across the floor, she watches her partner stretch, all long lines and muscle. Anthony stretches himself with a quick barre workout, before lowering himself into splits and sitting to reach his feet.

"Can I have this dance, madame?" Naomi starts and looks up at Anthony, who offers his hand to her and pulls her to her feet.

Naomi nods, bitting her lip, and takes her position a few paces away from centre stage in B-Plus, arms out at second position to cover the width of an imaginary tutu. Anthony starts the music and brings himself into the same position directly opposite her. The music begins with the slow strumming of harp strings and they move.

A romantic pas de deux for the holiday tour. This particular choreography is great; a show of elegance and technique that two performers have. But maybe she wasn't the right person to dance it? After all, she was only called on to perform because the main dancer had sprained herself and wouldn't recover until after this performance.

They meet directly in the middle of the stage and then walk with the music in a circle each away from each other. En pointe, they meet each other again. Anthony takes her hand to spin her on her toes.

"You're too tense," a low whisper brushes past her ear accompanied by warm air. Naomi tries not to flinch as she turns in Anthony arms in a slow pirouette, on demi-pointe. Her chest to his, she leans backwards in a graceful arc before pulling herself back up. For a second, she looks at the pair of them in the mirror where the audience would be.

Then they step away from each other and she raises herself back en pointe as she accepts his hand. With the crescendo of the cello in the backing track, she brings her leg up. Breathe, remember to breathe.

Anthony spins her slowly into an attitude and they continue on with the music. Naomi wobbles slightly as she brings herself back onto her toes and steps into a pas de bourree. On beat, she steps delicately to centre stage. She knows that her partner is following behind her, waiting until the dance deems it necessary for them to unite.

The music swells so Naomi moves into a quick series of chaine turns back to Anthony where they pause, arms raised and poised as if to fly. Her fingers nearly brush the cold floor as she leans down and comes back up with Anthony's hands on her waist. He shifts for her to lean with her back in the crook of his elbow before they part once again.

She twirls and he is behind her, holding on to her hand and moving with her to the music. He guides her back to centre stage where he grips her wrists gently as the music swells again, becoming more animated. They leap together, eyes and hands pointed to the sky. They twist and twirl around each other, mimicking, guiding. Naomi's legs cross as she steps sideways lightly, arms flinging out with the music. Anthony's hands find her waist and lifts her higher with her tour jete, catching his partner mid-flight.

But the second her feet lift off the ground, Naomi knows something is wrong. The angle is wrong. She's going to land badly. Do something! No, I can't! It's too late-

Naomi jolts as they hit the floor in a tangle of limbs. She hears breath forced out from a body. Oh no.

Once they tumble to a stop, Naomi realises, shaking, that the male dancer had wrapped his arms around her as they fell, tucking her securely against the his chest. She can hear his heart pounding against his ribcage as he pants.

"Why did you do that?" Naomi demands, more worried than she sounds. "You could have injured yourself-"

"And risk hurting you?" Anthony laughs wearily. "Not a chance."

She looks up and sees him smiling, shaking his head.

"We only have one backup dancer for your part," he pauses. "And besides, I promised you before: you've got me."

Naomi freezes then scrambles out of his hold. She stands up and brushes herself off brusquely. "I-I'll be in my changing room."

Without another word, she races off, leaving Anthony on the ground, the final notes of the music echoing in her ears.

-----------------------------------------

Stage lights, harsh and bright reflected off the polished floors. Naomi clenched her fists to stop them from shaking. There she was, there they were, representing their dance company on a national level.

She watched from the sidelines just out of sight of the audience as the music for the duo before them reached its final phrase and the duo spin back to each other. They bowed together as the audience applauded.

It was showtime.

Directly across from where she stood, Naomi saw her boyfriend emerge from the shadows, sleekly-clothed in white and cream to match her. Lean and surprisingly agile for his built with strength and grace in equal measure, Anthony was perfect for the stage.

What about her?

Questionable. But I'll do my best all the same.

Naomi met her partner's gaze again and in the dim lighting, she saw him smile, as brightly as the intricate patterns sewn onto his performance wear.

"I'm with you," Anthony mouthed, and Naomi can almost hear his whispered voice in her ears. "You've got me."

"You've always got me."

But they ended their relationship a month after.

It was for the sake of professionalism, Naomi had told herself.

But why did it have to hurt so much?

I'm afraid to fall because I'm already at my lowest and I don't want to see what's below this point.

-----------------------------------------

"Naomi? Naomi!"

She hears Anthony knocking on the door but she leaves her face buried in her arms, trying to ignore him.

"Naomi, you've been in there for almost an hour. They're gonna close this place for the night soon. Naomi, I'll break the door down if I have to!"

She raises her head. She'd seen her dance partner break down a door once and did not want to witness it again. Swallowing hard, she raises herself to her feet and unlocks the door.

Anthony barges in the moment the lock clicks and Naomi turns her back to him, pacing to the other end of the small dressing room. She sinks to the floor, back against the wall, curled back into the tight ball with her head on her knees. She was in no mood to talk to anyone right now, but she knew that Anthony would still try.

The sight of his face has their rehearsal replaying in front of her eyes again. It was her fault that they had fallen. The upper-half of her body had been leaning one way too much, and she should have curled her legs in faster-

"Naomi?" Anthony ventures after several heartbeats of them wordlessly staring at each other pass. He walks forward and Naomi resists the urge to shrink into a tighter ball, pressing herself into the grooves of the wall.

"I'm fine, Anthony," Naomi bites out, averting her eyes. "J-just leave me alone."

She doesn't hear footsteps walking away from her, but instead hears chair legs scrape against the floor as Anthony sits down. "Naomi, I know what you're thinking about. It wasn't your-"

"Stop it, Anthony. You know full well that both of us could have been injured because of me. I could have- I should have..." Naomi trails off, shaking her head. She laughs bitterly. "This is why I'm just a backup dancer."

"That's not true." Anthony folds his arms across the back of the chair, facing her. His head tilts as he speaks, frowning slightly. "The reason why you're a backup dancer is the stupidest I've ever heard of. Don't you remember?"

Naomi doesn't respond but Anthony carries on, anyway.

"It was my Audition Day as well, remember? I was one of the last ones to try and I was so nervous seeing everyone else do so much better than I thought I could do. I locked myself in one of the small changing rooms- smaller than this one- and I stayed in there, panicking. I would have stayed there and not have been on time to audition had one of my friends not called you.

"You came in and you found me. You stayed there with me for a minute and I suddenly felt calm. That day was also your Audition Day, and I'm so sorry you weren't there because of me. But, Naomi, they put you in as backup because they've seen you excel in all your classes."

Anthony puts up his hand to stop Naomi's protests and continues, smiling.

"I think that was the best audition that I would ever have. And to think that it would not have happened at all had you not found me on time."

-----------------------------------------

"You found me in so many places... you took me to the National Museum of Arts, remember? When it first opened?"

It was a cool, windy day. The gentle breeze was even colder against Anthony's cheeks that were pale red from the excitement of their third date. The Museum towered above them, a grand silhouette against the clear blue sky.

"And you were walking so fast because you wanted to show me that live dance show that was going to start a minute after we got in, right?"

A wrong turn, giggling as they retraced their steps.

"And as you walked, you held out your hand behind you because... because you knew that I would grab it," his voice shook slightly. "And I did. And I knew everything about you in that moment."

Brown eyes met blue ones as Naomi glanced over her shoulder, pulling him closer to their destination.

"I'm here now. And here's my hand."

Naomi finally raises her face, eyes glassy from crying and with faint tear tracks on her cheeks. She slowly uncurls herself and stretches out a hand.

The moment her tentative fingers touch his palm, he takes her hand in his, dropping onto his knees. There is a faint odor from the perspiration soaking the thin tights and shirts that they wore, but Anthony can't bring himself to care. He hugs her like he hasn't hugged her in a long while, holding her shivering form against his chest.

"I'm sorry for being so selfish," he chokes out. "You should have gone for your audition and left me there."

"And miss spending time with you here?" Naomi sniffs once, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "We're going backwards now. I'm still here, aren't I? It's- it's just that I thought I would be spending this time alone, being an unnecessary burden to this tour, so I convinced myself that I wanted it like that. I'm sorry."

After a minute, Anthony stands up. He turns to his partner, huddled on the floor, tired but not crying anymore. He extends his hand to her.

"Shall we, Madame?"

-----------------------------------------

Take my hand, I'll take the lead