・chapter 4・

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Asya sucked in a steadying breath as she extended her leg past her shoulder, clenching the muscle in her hip flexor to hold her balance. She raised her chin to soften her neckline, scanning the long mirrors on the wall in front of her for the Russian dancer she'd met a few minutes ago. She'd lost sight of him when they moved into the center, but had a strange feeling it wasn't the last she would be seeing of him.

They finished the first section of center work, and the class split into two groups for jumps and turns to allow for more space on the floor. Still a little out of breath from the développé exercise, Asya retreated to the side of the room to get some water while the first group did their turns. She saw Julian approaching her out of the corner of her eye, and shot him a mocking glare as he neared her.

'Overslept again, did we?' she whispered over the piano music, nudging him playfully.

'Hey, I have a busy social life.' he retorted, rubbing his eyes. Julian's mother was an old friend of Asya's family, and she had been spending her holidays with them ever since she was eleven. It didn't take long for her and Julian to strike up a friendship, having both been top of their respective grades at White Lodge and being equally dedicated to their prospects at the Royal Ballet.

Two years her senior and very much protective over his best friend, Julian had ferociously guarded her back during her apprenticeship with the company. Their natural chemistry and ideal height match made sure they often got casted together, and at the end of last season they were both promoted to soloist. Asya had snatched the record as the youngest soloist in the company's history from Julian, something he got teased relentlessly about, although he claimed the race for principal was on.

'Speaking of our social lives, were you just talking to him?' her best friend asked, tilting his head to the Russian dancer in the back of the class.

'Nope.' Asya shrugged. 'He was talking to me.'

The last thing she needed was Julian lecturing her about getting involved. At first he'd been watching out for her on his mother's orders, but quickly came to learn that Asya's taste in men was less than impressive and that there was little he could do about it. He hadn't liked any of her past flings, not even in school. She'd always reassured him that it wasn't anything serious, but Julian nearly drew the line when he found out about her and Ivan. Yes, Ridley was a serial womaniser and a cocky asshole at the best of times, but their relationship was convenient for both of them.

Nevertheless, Asya was anticipating another lecture from Julian about focusing on herself and taking a break from her frequent hookups, and the thinly controlled excitement in her best friend's voice surprised her.

'Alex said he saw him backstage last night but I thought he was kidding.' Julian whispered urgently. 'Tell me you know who that is, Radzevich.'

'I thought he looked familiar. Do you?' Asya asked curiously, adjusting the straps on her lilac leotard. She'd chosen that particular colour when she got dressed that morning as a subtle fuck-you to everyone saying she didn't deserve the role of the Lilac Fairy on opening night, although it was to appease herself more than anyone else. Either way, she did like lilac.

'That's Roman Zharnov.'

'WHAT-' Asya squeaked, whipping her head around to try and find the dark-haired dancer again.

'Zharnov.' Julian yelped. 'The Bolshoi's very own golden boy.'

'I knew he-'

'He's the living breathing king of the Russian ballet. He had four different companies in a bidding war trying to sign him for this season.' Julian rambled on. 'More importantly, what's he doing talking to you?'

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