Behind The Glass Door

Chapter 1

A/N: There are mentions of SA in this chapter and descriptions, I'll put ⊹⊹⊹ where it begins and stops if you don't feel comfortable :).

"Lacy!" my dance teacher, Jacob, yelled, echoing through the walls, breaking me out of my daydream.

"How many times do I have to tell you that your legs aren't straight and your feet are sickled?!" he yelled.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, feet turned out in first position as I stood tall in the middle of the room, by myself, preparing for my role as Clara in The Nutcracker that winter of 2022 when I was 17.

"Don't let me tell you again," he said, his small Russian accent peeking through as he held his glasses in his hand, the other hand rubbing his temple.

⊹⊹⊹

I nodded, head down as I stared at the floor, sliding my rings on and off my finger before one clattered onto the wood floor, rushing to get it only for Jacob's hand to touch mine, sliding it on my finger as his gaze was on me, mine on the floor at my shoes.

His finger hooked under my chin making me look at him.

"You always look scared of me," he mumbled, "Don't be," he said, thumb running over my chin, barely touching my bottom lip.

Tears of fear welled in my eyes as I took in a sharp breath, standing up.

"I need to go home," I said, scurrying out of the room only for him to grab my shoulder.

"We need to work on your legs, go to the barre," he said, pointing to the wood barre installed into the ground.

"Can you do your leg stretch to the back of your head please?" he asked.

I did as I was told, swiping my foot forward before pushing my leg in an arch, my calf almost hitting the back of my head.

"Beautiful, such beautiful legs," He mumbled to himself.

I felt uncomfortable under his gaze, it was nothing new but it haunted me at night, making my nights restless because of how dirty I felt.

"Now your arabesque, please," he said, watching me intently.

Following his instructions, I leaned forward, chest still high as my leg moved up high horizontally.

"No," he muttered, "You never turn this out," he said, walking over to me, my breath hitching once his hands touched my leg.

His hand slowly moved higher up my leg, gliding across my tights smoothly past my calf, and my kneecap, and slowly inching up my toned thighs, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

I bit my lip until it bled, trying to hold back the tears, fearful as to what might happen if I cried.

His hand brushed up against my tight shorts, a finger barely brushing against my clothed core, a single teardrop falling on the floor below me as he did.

"I-I can turn out my leg by myself, Jacob," I choked, chest heaving.

"You seem to be incapable of doing anything without assistance," he muttered, hand pressing against my core as I tried to put my leg down.

"Jacob, please, stop," I sobbed out finally, tears dripping loudly on the floor.

"I'll stop when you can dance," he muttered, voice harsh and chilling.

"I can dance right now, I promise I'll apply the corrections, just please stop," I begged, desperately trying to pry my leg away from his grasp.

"Shut up," he raised his voice, smacking my butt with a jarring hand, a loud gasp and cry falling from my mouth.

"You'll do as you're told," he said, hand now cupping my front as I choked on my tears.

He had control over me, control I've never once had in any situation. I felt powerless, weak, frightened, and no matter what I did or said, he wouldn't stop.

His eye has always been on me. At first, I joked about it, saying 'As long as I get the good roles, then he can stare all he wants' I remember saying to my friends in the waiting room when we were changing our shoes. They laughed, and I laughed.

I would never have thought it would get this serious.

Jacob always gave me the lead roles or the roles I wanted the most. When I played The Black Swan, or Clara in The Nutcracker, all those roles over these couple of years were just because I was pretty, not for my talent.

Without my looks, I would be nothing.

His hand ran up my bare back, a single finger tucking under the band of my sports bra, nails scratching at my skin.

"Jacob please," I begged.

"Please what?" He said.

"Please stop," I said, my voice harsh.

That only led me to another harder slap across my behind, a yelp coming from my throat.

He had been doing this for the past couple of months, but never this much, it was less. When the girls left class, he made me stay after, hands touching my waist, my shoulders, my arms, and legs. He'd stare at me in class, praise me for how I danced, only me, while he yelled at the others.

Even the girls I danced with were tired of his act.

"Why would I stop? You're so gorgeous," He muttered, fingers touching the side of my breast harshly, reaching closer to the center.

A knock was heard at the door, his hand quickly left my chest and stepped away from me before the secretary stepped in.

"Lacy's Mom is here for her," the lady smiled, oblivious to what happened.

"Ok, you're dismissed Lacy, I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled, hand touching my arm as I flinched at his touch, pulling me in and kissing my cheek, nearing too close to my lips.

⊹⊹⊹

I quickly ran away to my mother.

I remember telling my parents that night as they sat on the couch, my Father's eyes widening with pure hatred when I told him. My Mother's eyes watering and drooping with pure misery.

The word at Boston Ballet school had soon gotten out, texts varying from 'I am so sorry for what happened, you never deserved that, you're strong and I know it will take lots of time, but you'll heal, and you'll be stronger than ever' to 'I can't believe that you'd do that, that's so disgusting' I felt disgusting and weak.

******

My life wasn't always like this.

I used to have a life that girls dreamed of. My parents were supportive and nice, I was pretty, I had a lot of friends, but that all faded away when I moved to France.

So now I sat on a six-hour flight to Mouvementville, France.

Belle Danse was a professional, full-time dance school in France. I didn't live in France so, like most students, I'm staying in the dorms. They ran a school program there for all of their students who were still in school, which was most of them.

I had mixed emotions with planes. I didn't mind sitting on a plane for a couple hours but I do mind sitting on a plane for six hours. My body couldn't sit still for that long. I did enjoy the sky though, the sky was just rising in Paris when we were about to land, and the clouds were pink and orange mixed with yellow.

Suddenly the flight attendant spoke over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen the seatbelt sign overhead is on and we're landing in 5 minutes. We will be experiencing some turbulence so please make sure to buckle your seatbelts," The lady's voice was soft and smooth through the crackly speaker.

I sat up stiffly, waiting for the plane to land.

"Excuse me where can I find baggage claim?" I ask, feeling hopeless as people continue to ignore me and on with their day.

I wandered around until I found the baggage claim and I hauled my suitcases off the belt, tiredly exiting the building to find a cab.

It felt like ages before I reached Belle Danse, I don't know if it was the jet lag or the lack of sleep because of the crying baby behind me, but i felt like I was going to fall asleep walking out of the cab.

When I could focus on the building in front of me, it was simple, made out of old brick but it had Victorian accents to it, black metal gates, and a gold plaque that read 'Belle Danse, Ecole de Danse'.

"I'll get your suitcases madam," the driver said, grabbing my bags from the back.

"Thank you," I nodded.

I walked up the stairs to the double doors and opened one of them immediately seeing the bustling inside, people going left to right, yelling names, and parents saying bye to their kids.

I was taken aback, eyes widening at the sight. I collected myself and walked in, seeing a sign on the left that said 'Registration'. I made my way over there, pushing through people as I went and looked down at the desk, seeing a man with a full head of slicked-back black hair.

"Bonjour, what's your name?" he asked, accent thick.

"Lacy R. Clarke," I said, leaning in so he could hear me.

"Ah yes," he smiled brightly, "I teach every dance style here, but I hope to work with you. I've seen how you dance and you are magnifique!" he exclaimed happily, smiling brightly as he looked up at me.

"Oh thank you, I appreciate that, but I'm sure there's much more talent than me at a place like this," I smiled softly, looking around at the pictures of past students on the walls.

"It doesn't matter what everyone else is like, as long as you are being your best self," he smiled, checking my name off the paper.

"Your tour guide and roommate is over there, I apologize in advance she's quite, eh how do you say?" he stuttered with his words, "she's very outgoing yet so laid back at the same time," he nodded before yelling the girl's name.

"Valentina, make yourself useful your roommate is here," he yelled to her.

A girl with wavy long black hair came over, clad in black sweatpants and a black tee-shirt, her brown eyes staring into mine.

"Hey I'm Val, nice to meet you," she said in a British accent, one hand extending to shake mine while the other rested behind her back.

"Lacy," I nodded, shaking her hand.

"I'll show you around, but right now everyone kind of doing that so it might be crowded," she said, craning her neck to look at something.

"The studios are all over the place but they're mostly on the third floor, a couple will be on the second," she said leading me up the steps.

"And the dorms are on the fourth and fifth floor, boys on the fifth, girls on the fourth," she said.

"I don't recommend going to the boy's dorms unless it's to see a male friend, or else Camille will not be too happy, she's the dorm manager," Valentina explained, hands behind her back as she talked with her head and her eyes, walking slowly up the stairs.

"Going to the boy's dorms if you're dating any of them will probably lead to rumors being spread and shaming," she told me, "assuming you're straight that is," she said.

"I am," I nodded, and for some reason, I was unsure about that response.

"We are very accepting of people here since half the men here are gay," she chuckled.

I cracked a smile and she led me to the last door on the right to the stairs, opening the door with a key and presenting our room.

"Here's our room in all its glory," she chuckled.

The room was small but not extremely small, it was decently sized. The walls were brick, painted over a whitish-pink. There were two windows, one on the left wall and one big one in the middle, looking out to the street.

"We got lucky, that window has the tiniest balcony, big enough to fit two people though," she said, pointing to the larger window.

"That's nice for air," I nodded.

"You can have the left bed, I already took the right one, sorry about that," she said, scratching her neck.

"It's ok I don't mind," I smiled.

I heard someone at the door and I turned around, seeing my taxi driver.

"Oh my goodness I am so sorry, I forgot," I said, rushing over to grab my bags.

"No worries madam today's a slow day," he smiled nodding to me.

"Here," I said, fishing some euros I exchanged at the airport out of my pocket for a tip.

"No I can't," he said.

"I insist, you traveled four floors with two oversized suitcases that I packed to the brim, I think I would pass out if I did that," I laughed.

His laughter boomed through our walls, his head going back when he did.

I brought out my phone to make sure that the amount of euros I gave him was enough. I never learned how much one euro equals in dollars and I wasn't doing that math even if I did know.

Once I saw that it was 20 in American currency I pocketed my phone and gave him a smile

"Have a good day," he waved, exiting my room.

"You too," I smiled.

I rolled my suitcase over to my bed and I fished for the sheets in my suitcase.

"Where are you from?" Valentina asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Massachusetts," I said.

"America right?" she asked me.

"Yeah, I live North of Boston," I smiled, "How about you?" I asked.

"Liverpool in England," She said, nodding as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

"Oh that's nice," I smiled, glancing at her quickly.

"What brings you to Belle Danse so late?" she asked.

"Well," I said, finally finding my sheets and standing up, pausing to find a story that wouldn't make her hug me in sympathy.

"I used to go to a part-time dance school every day after school, but I wanted something more serious," I said.

"Understandable," she said, "Wait let me guess what style you do," she grinned.

"Ok, go ahead," I laughed breathily.

"Pointe," she smiled.

The gasp that left my mouth was exaggerated, looking at her in fake shock.

"How'd you know," I smiled.

"Well, if it weren't for the baby pink sheets and the pointe shoe sticker on your phone case then I would've guessed modern," she said.

"Modern is one of my favorites," I smiled, struggling to put my fitted comforter on my bed.

"Why do you do ballet then?" she asked.

"I love ballet," I said, "but watching modern is an experience I'll never forget," I smiled.

"I do modern, well, modern, contemporary, and lyrical, I kind of just mix all of them into my dances," she said shrugging.

"Modern is a lovely style of dance, I did it from 8 until I was 13," I smiled.

"It's so expressive, it helped me through a bunch," she furrowed her brows, using her hands to talk.

I could tell she was getting comfortable, the way she was so stiff before and fidgety but now she loosened up a bit.

"Dance is so powerful," I said, leaning over to one side to tuck a corner under my mattress.

"I know, it really is-" Valentine was cut off with a knock, making me jump.

"Val," I heard a voice say.

I turned around and caught a glimpse of a girl before Valentina covered her body with it, hugging the other girl tightly.

"Missed you over the summer dude," The other girl said with a chuckle.

"Me too," Valentina laughed.

When Valentina moved away, I swear I was blanking out because that other girl was stunning. She had wavy long brown hair and green eyes that were glassy. Her skin was tan but not a lot, a sunkissed glow to her complexion.

Also from the sun, she had freckles dotted under her eyes and on her nose, barely noticeable but just peeking through. She had a pair of light grey Nike sweatpants on and a tight-fitting cropped black tank top.

I stared at her in utter shock, suddenly my outfit that I spent an hour picking out seemed ugly, the white cotton sweat shorts I wore with a slightly baggy navy and white striped sweater.

Girls had always been a challenge for me. I'm terrified of them, every time I see a girl I feel small, like I'm irrelevant and she's the reason why the world is spinning. They're just so pretty it seems like they have so much power over me.

"Oh Riley this is my roommate, Lacy. Lacy this is Riley, she's been here the whole time I have," Valentina greeted, smiling as she looked at Riley.

"Hey," Riley said, hands in her pocket, "Nice to meet you," she smiled.

"Yeah, you too," I muttered.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"Uhm, Massachusets," I cleared my throat, "How about you?" I asked.

"South Carolina," she nodded.

"Really? I go on vacation there sometimes," I said.

"Oh nice, I'm in Isle Of Palms, heard of it?" she asked me.

"Yeah! I went there this summer for a week," I smiled.

"No way," she grinned.

"Yeah," I smiled again.

Realizing I looked stupid standing there and staring at her, I averted my gaze, clearing my throat again and looking at Valentina's bed.

"Well it was nice to meet you," I smiled.

"Yeah you too, I do hip-hop and sometimes modern so, maybe I'll see you," she said.

"I uh- I do pointe," I said.

"I can tell," she said, "Your legs are toned," she finished.

"Oh," I said.

The memory of Jacob's hands traveling up my thigh flashed in front of my eyes. No matter how hard I tried to not think of the incident, I just couldn't stop thinking about it, everything reminded me of that day.

"It's not a bad thing," she rushed to say, "it's good, but even if your legs weren't toned then that'd be fine too," she scrambled to say, her eyes wide.

"It's fine, don't worry," I forced a smile.

"Alright," she said slowly, "I'm gonna get going," she walked to the door.

"See you soon," she smiled.

And I let out the breath that I had unknowingly held in that whole time.