CREATURE

・chapter 16・

'Not hungry?' Julian asked from across her, shovelling down some pancakes while he checked his phone. 

'Not really.' she replied, turning her attention outside.

Their table stood next to one of the big bay windows overlooking the coast, and she stole some moments to memorize the peaceful scenery. The hotel's beautiful dining area had been cleared from the previous night's dinner party and was flooded with streaks of early morning sunshine, flecking the neatly laid tables and glistening off the chandeliers.

Four days of rehearsals and drilling choreography, excitement and finally being able to perform had all come to an end. It was almost cruel, she thought. Being that invested in something and then having to let it go. Eventually she'd forget the choreography, she'd probably never see the hotel again, never wear her costumes again, never be able to relive rush of prancing across the outdoor stage alongside some of her idols. It was all just fleeting.

Which is what made it beautiful and all the more intoxicating while it lasted, and equally painful to let go of. The performer's curse, a never-ending cycle of falling in love and letting go.

'Did you see this?' Julian asked, sliding his phone to her over the table.

He was browsing the Opera House's social media, specifically a post from the night before featuring Zharnov in his opening number. They had finally made a statement about him officially joining the company, in long caption about how 'delighted' they are to announce that he is a part of their ranks and that he 'is expected to appear on the historic London stage sometime in the new year'.

She raised her eyebrows as she looked through a few of the photographs they shared of him.

'Well, at least it's official now.' she said, sliding Julian's phone back to him. 'I'm going to make some coffee. Do you want a cup?'

Julian shook his head and Asya made for the coffee stand, still contemplating if she should finish her breakfast or not. The caffeine would probably fill her sufficiently, she decided, and hopefully it would help wake her up. The night before she'd gone upstairs with Bradley and only left his room in the early hours of the morning, at which point she probably had less than four hours of sleep left. 

She was hoping not to run into him at breakfast, trusting that he decided to sleep in since he didn't have to make a drive back to London. She really wasn't in the mood for the awkward morning-after questions or explanations, but if it were to happen she needed to look half-awake. Caffeine it is, she thought. She was busy selecting a cup when someone brushed up against her side.

Zharnov didn't acknowledge her at first; he simply reached past her and took a mug from the rack. Instead of greeting him like she'd intended to, she found herself involuntarily caught up with his striking features, remarking that up close she could see he had dimples-

'Morning.' he said, interrupting her objectionable thoughts about his facial structure. She shook her head stubbornly, privately scolding herself for her inappropriate staring.

'Coffee drinker?' she asked quickly, adding some sugar to her own.

He snorted, but she could have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth tug into a little smile. His arm brushed gently against hers while he stirred his coffee, his scent filling her senses from being so close to him. He smelled like peppermint and amberwood, something masculine and refined, expensive.

She busied herself with adding milk to her coffee, once again reminding herself she had better things to be thinking about or even just observing. They hadn't spoken since the afternoon the day before when they were about to go on stage, and she was still contemplating whether or not she should thank him for the lift. She was staying out of his way as a general rule, but surely that didn't mean she could just be friendly?

He turned around, leaning against the table and stretching out his long legs in front of him. Wordlessly he passed her the newspaper under his arm, laying it out on the surface between them. She looked at him quizzically before scanning over the page, halting when something in the bottom corner caught her eye.

Her picture.

A photo from last night, in her black leotard, mid-solo. Her eyes were alit, a cocky grin stretching over her features and arms thrown overhead with her leg up in a high attitude...

Nastasia Radzevich, a soloist with the Royal Ballet.

Her eyes travelled down the page. It was an article from the local paper about their performance from the night before. 

Nastasia is a newly promoted soloist with the Royal Ballet in London, and already she has emerged with the makings of a premiere ballerina. Last night she shared the stage with only the best, performing alongside Ivan Ridley and former Bolshoi principal dancer Roman Zharnov in an entertainment fusion called Les Animateurs.

Dressed in Vaudeville-style costumes Ridley and Zharnov challenge one another in a series of breath-taking bravura steps to try and win the affections of cute girl Radzevich, who ends up taking off with a member of the orchestra! A triumph of gladiatorial wit and feisty characters, the evening was a wonderful display of the young talent in the Royal Ballet.

Asya gawked and gaped and skimmed over the words again, unsure what to say. Her picture, they used her picture for the article, she'd made the morning paper, she-

'It's not often I get upstaged, you understand.' Roman told her, grinning at her over the edge of his mug.

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Hi everyone! And with that, we have concluded the tour! 🥂 I hope you guys enjoyed this little break from company life, because now we're back on the ballet grind! Lend me your thoughts and predictions in the comments, I'm dying to know what you all thought about the tour content! All my love, and I'll see you in London 🖤🌇