The Black Swan | Reposted

Chapter 17 - Mom

Harry called in sick for rehearsals the following day. Why... why did I feel bad? I felt like maybe it came from the fact that I knew his mother was dead. It made me feel so awful, I couldn't imagine not having my own mom. I didn't want to pity him, I hated him. I didn't want to give him my sympathies but... I couldn't help it. He lost his mother, and that was a pain I hoped I'd never have to experience. I knew he called in sick because of what he shared with me.

Since he was absent I worked with the group that day. Then we had the weekend and rehearsals picked up Monday. I had no clue what was going on, I knew he hated me, but I didn't understand how to fix it. I needed to fix it for this damn show. I needed the role of the Black Swan, somehow. It felt like everything, everything, was riding on this performance.

I went to the company late on Saturday, having a feeling he'd be there. Sure enough, he was practicing; he must have been there for hours. His body was sweaty, hair pulled back; he watched his form carefully in the glass mirrors. He stopped and let go of a breath, wiping his face with a towel. He stretched his back almost artfully, I could see his spine bend, his whole back a massive muscle that flexed, all as he walked to the iPod dock, blasting this heavy metal music. He just started going, aggressively doing jumps and bends, flips. He looked so angry. I was so captivated though... the beauty of it, the poise... it was like moving fire, like a tornado of flame. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He collapsed, dropping to his knees, gazing at his reflection as his chest rise and fell so incredibly fast. I was staring from the viewing booth when my phone rang. I threw my body to the floor and answered it as fast as I could, hoping he didn't notice.

"Hello?" I spoke at a hush whisper.

"Hi honey, I wanted to know if you were coming to dinner tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, like always."

"Are you okay?"

"Sorry, distracted, movies.'

"Oh no, all right, I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Bye," I hung up and relaxed, until the door opened, and there was Harry. "Here it is," I got up.

"Here what is?" he stared, eyes cold as ice.

"I left my earring up here when I was observing the other soloists pieces for the showcase."

"And you came back this late for it?"

"It's a special earring."

"Let me see it."

"No."

"Why?"

"It's my earring, excuse me, you're blocking the door." I brushed past him and hurried, hating that I got caught. I hurried home and started doing some research on Harry Styles.

First I just found a flood of newspaper clippings about all his awards in dance. It was actually cute.

"Whoa," I whispered.

He had been arrested for assault when he was eighteen; it was in the newspaper of some place in London. I swallowed and kept looking around, finding his profile on countless ballet schools websites. He was an award winning dancer, and as much as I hated to say it, he did deserve it.

"Anne Styles," I whispered, she was a famous costume designer. I was reading through her bio but it said nothing about her death. I kept researching and just found that she died of a tragedy. I sighed and shivered at the thought of his arrest, of a tragedy. Who the hell was this guy?

The following practice I was a bit nervous. Again Harry and I were brought to a private studio so we could focus on our chemistry, our director's words, while everyone else did their parts elsewhere. We were dancing, executing all the moves damn near perfectly.

"Flat, flat, flat!" he shouted. Harry had me hovering over his head, lifting me, his thumbs pressing into my hips. He just spun and stared at Vincent.

"What the fuck more do you want?"

"I want chemistry, I want natural chemistry. I want it to be as if you are mirroring the other because you know her body, you know her mind. Right now you are doing the steps, you are executing it all. I want more!"

"You won't get more," Harry put me down on my feet with ease.

"Vincent, he hates me. I've tried." Harry rolled his eyes. "He's far too immature. Take the role the hell away from him."

"Take it away from her."

"You're acting like petty children!" He grabbed us both by our wrists and dragged us into a storage closet. "Work it out! You two are the best dancers I have, figure it out!" he slammed the door and left us in the dark, his body far too close for comfort. I pushed him away and he stumbled a bit, tripping over a bucket.

"What the fuck is this shit," he grumbled.

"It's called, get over your freaking ego. You're ruining our show."

"Yeah, my ego."

I rolled my eyes. "You wrote me off from day one." I pushed him again. "You don't' know the first thing about me. You think I have an ego? You think I'm some big headed dancer? I don't know who my mom was but I'm not her. I try so hard not to be her but so hard to impress her..." I shook my head and plopped myself on a little step ladder, burying my face in my hands. "I hate the lines of ballerinas. How many times have I said this? Do you know how much pressure that is on a girl? I don't want to be some cookie cutter dancer and a clone of my mom. I want to bring something different so badly but I just don't know how because I'm scared of going off the classical route that she followed. I'm so stressed about not ever being in Swan Lake and that my name will go down as a freaking disgrace." I took a breath and just shook my head, knowing I had an epic case of the word vomit.

"Why are you telling me that?"

"Sympathy vote I suppose,"

"I have no sympathy for the likes of you."

I stared up at him. "You are so wrong about me Harry, whatever you think about me." I stood up. "Please, just tell me why do you hate me? Is it just because I'm a Ricci? Do you really think I'm arrogant?" He was silent. "Harry you have to talk to me. Like it or not, it's clear that the company that we both work for, likes us together. It's clear they are going to be pairing us up in the future. We can't ignore that. Can you really keep doing this? Are you really going to let this ruin every production until they finally kick you out because of something so petty?"

"I'll never leave this company; I've worked more than you can ever know to get here. This is where my legacy stands. I'm not letting you push me out of it like all the other women did in your family."

"What are you talking about?" I shouted, my voice breaking sound barriers. 'What the fuck did my mom do?"

"Sleep with my fucking step dad? Break up my parent's marriage, and cheating on your own dad?" he screamed. "Made my mom's life a living fucking hell." He threw the door open and slammed it shut.

I blinked, my world suddenly spinning. I took a ragged breath, my eyes getting wet. "Mom?"