It's busy at the entrance of the ballet school. Peter has to make his way in through a small crowd of girls with donut buns in their hair. They're smoking right in front of the entrance. He holds his breath and gasps softly when he gets inside. He catches a whiff of his clothes. Even though he only passed the group of smokers, the scent is stuck in his shirt. Great. Now he's going to have to explain to May why he smells like that. He didn't notice the girls chuckling among each other while they stare at him, as he walked into the school.
Peter makes his way to the changing rooms. When he opens the door he's met by two other guys putting on their ballet flats. They're slightly younger than him.
"Hey, you new?" The black boy grins at him. "Or lost?" He has tight, short curls, and a playful look in his eye.
"New," Peter ducks his head and walks to the bench, grabbing his backpack from his back.
"Careful with Madame Touha," the other guy says. He stands up and puts his hand out to Peter. "She generally doesn't like new guys."
"I've noticed," Peter laughs and takes his hand. "Peter."
"Andres." He gives Peter a firm handshake. "This is Miles. Been here since we learned to stand up straight." Miles waves at Peter. Ah, so these guys know their stuff.
"Any tips for a beginner?" Peter sits down on the bench, taking his ballet wear out of his backpack.
"Stand in the back."
"And just do it."
"That sounds easier than it probably is." Peter chuckles nervously as he fiddles with his leotard.
"Nah, man. I mean, yeah, it's hard as balls. But just don't think about what you're doing when you're doing it."
"Exac," Andres adds. "You learn ballet through repetition."
"There's only so many moves and they all got their own name."
"Sounds intimidating, but alright." Peter gets up to take off his pants.
"Don't worry, man, if you want this, you got this!" Miles finger guns at Peter as he walks towards the door. "We're gonna warm up if you don't mind." Andres follows Miles to the door.
"That's okay!" Peter takes off his shirt. "I'll see you there!"
Peter could've suspected what was going to happen next based on Andres's cheeky smile. As he walks out he swings the door all the way open. It hits the wall, but doesn't come back to close. Peter stares at the hallway, frozen in place, his shirt still in his hands. Right outside there are at least eight girls, waiting to enter the dance hall. Peter's currently wearing nothing but his boxers. Most of the girls start squealing. Quiet panic rises in Peter's stomach and he desperately tries to cover up.
"Hi! Hello, I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to-" He freezes again when he makes eye contact with the girl from the shop. Oh, no. She stares at him with wide eyes and her mouth slightly opened. Their gazes stay connected for a few more seconds until she blinks a rapidly a couple times and looks away, collecting herself. She rushes through the crowd of girls towards the door and swings it shut.
"Let's get to class," he hears her say through the door. The crowd responds by booing her, but they move away nonetheless. Peter lets go of the breath he's been holding for a solid minute at this point. He drops himself back on the bench and stares at the leotard in his hands, processing what just happened.
Not much later he hears a knock. The door opens slowly, but no one comes through from the other end.
"Hey, uh..." It's the girl from the shop. "You can't exactly wear boxers under a leotard and leggings. It'll show." Peter looks down at his boxers. "I should've said that at the store, but I figured you'd know."
"Oh." Peter doesn't really know what else to say.
"I suppose you don't have any other underwear with you?" She clears her throat.
"I, uh..." He looks at his backpack, his Spider-Man suit is skin tight, but the design on that usually hides his boxer lines. He obviously didn't think this through. As with most things.
"Here." Her arm pokes through the opened door. She's holding something skin-coloured in her hand. Peter gets up and walks to the door, slowly reaching for her. Their fingers brush past each other and she quickly pulls back when he takes the underwear from her. "Madame Touha usually has some spares lying around. It should be clean, I mean-" she breathes. "It feels clean." Peter stares at the door. "You need to bring them back clean, too."
"Right, got it."
"Sorry about the others." She closes the door a little further. "They like to play pranks on newcomers."
"It's okay, I won't hold it against them."
"Joke's on Andres, though. You're not bad to look at." Peter freezes for what feels like the thousandth time today. He hears her swear softly. "I mean-"
"Thanks," he interrupts her and there's a short silence. His thumb rubs the fabric of the underwear he's holding. "I'm Peter, by the way."
"Daphne." Her name echoes through his head and he smiles. Daphne.
Peter's first ballet class was downright embarrassing. It started with his introduction, which was awkward to say the least. He walked into the dance hall last, cause it took him longer to change with what had happened. All heads turned to him and he wanted to sink into the floor. He hurried towards the back of the class after the teacher, Madame Davina, introduced him and he decided to just focus on actually dancing. Keeping up with everyone else proved to be one of the biggest challenges he's ever faced. And he's Spider-Man. The underwear also happened to be incredibly uncomfortable. An obstacle he didn't realize he had to keep in mind was restraint. He was used to pretending to be a puny nerd kid at PE, but this was on a whole other level. He had to focus every part of his brain on not jumping too high or kicking too hard.
Part of ballet means having your muscles tensed every second, while still making it look like you're not clenching your butt cheeks off. Finding the right rhythm was hard as well. Most music he listens to has an obvious beat. All he has now is a piano, no clear beat at all. He doesn't only have to count, but he also has to keep in mind that some parts of the music should be danced to based on how it feels. Nothing about that can be rationalized and all the other dancers seem to have that "feel the music" thing down quite well.
And the ballet terms. Oh, the ballet terms. Every single step has a name. This means that everything they do is explained to them in a string of French words of which Peter has no idea what they mean. He does everything he can to memorize them, but there are so many words thrown at him that he can't even figure out where they start and end. Chassé, assemblé, ara... Ara- what now? He must look like a total idiot. He definitely has a long way to go.
Peter drops to the ground when Madame Davina announces that class is over. He doesn't even sweat this much as Spider-Man. How is he so exhausted? How is he already so sore?
"Are you alright?" Daphne towers over him. He had been watching her all class, copying her.
"I knew this was going to be hard, but this..." He spreads his arms and legs on the floor, like a starfish, not able to finish his sentence. Daphne laughs.
"Yeah," she chuckles. "It's a workout for sure."
"My brain is tired too."
"It's a lot to take in. Will be for a few more classes." She offers him her hand and smiles. "Get up, Cindy, we gotta go." Peter looks at the door and sees the next class waiting to enter the dance hall. He grabs her hand and she helps him up.
"Tha- wait." He stops in his tracks. "What did you just call me?" Daphne laughs, but her cheeks turn red.
"I didn't know your name before today. Been calling you Cinderella whenever I thought of you." She realizes what she just said and her cheeks turn even redder.
"You've been thinking about me?" He doesn't even care that she called him Cinderella. She thought about him.
"Well-"
"Daphne, Peter!" Madame Touha stands in the opened door. "Glad I caught you, I need to speak to both of you."
All three of them enter Madame Touha's office. Daphne seems rather nervous. Madame Touha sits down at her desk and sighs.
"Daphne, you've been stagnating," she starts. Why was Peter here if Madame Touha was going to scold Daphne? He shuffles awkwardly where he stands. "Your classmates have been progressing and you are stuck. How many rotations can you do in your pirouettes?" Peter can see Daphne's jaw clench.
"Three and a half, Madame."
"So three full rotations," Madame Touha states. "While most of your classmates are at four or five."
"Right."
"I don't want to say this, Daphne, but if your classmates keep progressing and you're not, the chances of you losing your scholarship will increase." Madame Touha leans forward, resting her elbows on her desk. Daphne closes her fists. "And I know you can do it. You have the potential, the talent. You just... Don't do it." She raises an eyebrow at Daphne. "Why?"
"I..." Daphne looks at her feet, embarrassed. Peter wants to run away. Why is he here? "I get too caught up in the music, I guess. I... I think too much."
"Those are two contradicting things, you know that."
"It's one of those two, depending on the day."
"Right. Don't get me wrong, dear. You dance beautifully. But you are not progressing." Madame Touha crosses her legs. "The board wants to see you improve. Why do you think too much? What's on your mind?"
The stalker.
Everything suddenly clicks. Except for why Peter has to listen in on this. He feels like he's intruding. He takes a deep breath and holds it.
"David."
"The guy you dated for a solid week?" Madame Touha frowns. "Didn't you break up with him a month ago?"
"It's nothing, I swear." Now Peter clenches his jaw. She's lying and Madame Touha knows it too. He can see it in her eyes.
"Do you want to get back with him?"
"No! No, that's not it. He's just... It's not a big deal, I promise." Daphne fiddles with her hands. "I don't want to talk about it." Madame Touha sighs and scratches her head.
"Alright then." She turns her head to Peter, who quickly fixes his posture. "I want you to teach him the basics." Peter's mouth falls open.
"What?" Daphne steps forward.
"He needs to learn technique. You need to improve yours. One plus one equals two." Madame Touha smiles. "The best way to learn is to teach."