I Don't Love You (And I Always Will)

Chapter Twelve

Hey! If you have time, please leave a comment. They mean the world to me!

Disclaimer: This is a work of FICTION not meant to imply anything about anyone.

Harry

Harry brushed a stray curl off his forehead, a steady reminder he needed to get his hair cut soon. It had been about six months since he last cut it, and the curls were getting a bit unruly. Probably more than a bit. He rested his head in his hands while he stretched, content to just sit and watch rehearsals from the side of the studio. The Marzipan music echoed in the high-ceilinged room, the familiar sound of the flutes filling Harry's head as he watched Eleanor and some of the corps dancer's movements. This dance was quite sharp, showing off the Balanchine technique very well. The lead Marzipan dancer, who was Eleanor in this rehearsal, was commonly regarded as the most difficult Nutcracker role. And that could be easily backed up by the fast footwork, challenging jumps, and near impossible hops en pointe. Eleanor made it all look easy, which Harry remembered was one of the first things he noticed about her during class on his first day.

The Nutcracker had been in rehearsal for about a week. After the awful day following Halloween (Harry never wants to come to work that sick ever again), the rest of the dancers showed up looking like they had made a full recovery from their night. Learning the choreography didn't take long, since the current dancers had been studying the steps for years, whether it was backstage as extras, or from the videos Niall told Harry they watched in the School of American Ballet dorm rooms. It took Harry a bit longer to catch up, since he had just started dancing this version of Nutcracker. He had been studying his parts from the company tapes down in the basement Zayn helped him find. Harry watched them while he ran on the treadmill before class, which turned out to be quite an effective distraction from the burn in his legs and lungs.

The Marzipan dancers switched casts, Olivia taking Eleanor's place as lead Marzipan so she could take a well-deserved break. El had sweat stains showing through her pink leotard and her bangs were sticking to her forehead as she caught her breath. Her chest was heaving while she walked her way over to Harry on the side of the studio.

"How was it?" El asked him, her nerves showing through the slight wobble of her voice. She had confessed to Harry a couple days prior that while this was her dream role, the idea of screwing it up was keeping her up at night. The two had gone to pliates almost every day this week to relieve some stress. "It felt off timing." She said.

"No, you idiot. I honestly couldn't find any issues with it." Harry replied fondly. Yes, he saw issues but it was with the other dancers, not Eleanor. Their formations behind her looked less like a line and more like a cooked spaghetti noodle.

"Really?" Eleanor asked. "Well, we're still going to pliates tonight right?" Harry nodded in response, giving her a thumbs up. She gave him one back before walking out of the studio, leaving Harry alone to watch Olivia's cast run their version of Marzipan. It was good, but Harry preferred Eleanor's. She fit the soft shepherdess character more than Olivia, who Harry thought was better suited for more badass roles like Arabian. She was doing well, though.

Harry heard the door squeak open, but he didn't turn his head to look at who was entering, instead continuing to watch the critiques Cowell was giving the girls. He was talking about getting the girls more on-count when Harry felt someone sit down next to him. Expecting Eleanor to have returned from wherever she went off to, he was pretty surprised to find Louis next to him, to say the least.

"Hey, Harry." Louis greeted him with a smile, beginning to roll out his feet with a tennis ball. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks for asking." Harry said, with no doubt a confused expression on his face. Harry and Louis weren't exactly friends, and they had never just had a conversation like this.