Chapter Text
After a disapproving look from Ruthven and a semi-good-natured slap from Domi, Noé was allowed into the studio. Vanitas walked straight in, most people there expecting him to be late. Vanitas was proud of his reputation. It saved him in a lot of ways. From getting in trouble at least.
He had been pleasantly surprised by Noé in the garden. Noé was undoubtedly a powerful dancer but he seemed listless. It wasn’t like Vanitas had seen his progression but he couldn’t imagine him as someone who danced with a purpose. That was fine, generally, but the way Noé moved, not the actual movements which were flawless, was as if he were Atlas, unaware that he was holding so much up. He was keeping something big back and Vanitas wanted to see it. He bet Noé had no idea what he was capable of.
Vanitas settled himself near Jeanne, not looking over at Noé or Dante for that matter, for the quick re-warm-up that Ruthven subjected them to. Jeanne was constantly putting out her best. There was nothing for her to hold back and Vanitas wanted to experience that with her. That and they would look fabulous together. It was different with Noé. Even just dancing with him that morning, he was hooked. He had seen Jeanne perform several times, mostly competition and performance recordings, before he had seen her in person. The camera didn’t do her justice. Vanitas had considered watching some of Noé’s reels, he was sure his company had posted something, but when he looked it up, there was nothing. He knew who Noé was, there was plenty of biographical information, and even several shout-outs to the trio (Noé, Domi, and Louis) but no video. Domi had a few group and solo pieces in the archives, but there was not a whiff of the other two. Vanitas had to see for himself.
The warm-up was simple, almost clinical, allowing Vanitas to move without thought keeping him lost in Noé. In the first choreo challenge they did on the weekend, he wasn’t unimpressed by Noé, but something was missing from his performance. Something intangible and unattainable. Though, dancing with him that morning had made Vanitas reconsider his assessment. There was something missing, but it wasn’t because Noé was lacking, it was because he had something so incredibly rare that he hadn’t used it yet. The short minute of choreo they learned that morning had shown Vanitas what he couldn’t see the day before. The thing that had Luna allowing him into the main cast of Swan Lake.
What had Luna seen when she watched Noé dance?
A useless question.
Ruthven had decided to teach them the choreography sans music. It wasn’t an uncommon practice, especially for pieces that would likely never see the light of day. Ruthven was conventionally unconventional.
“Typical,” Vanitas had mumbled under his breath when Ruthven explained the plan. His mumble was immediately met with an elbow from Dante.
“We have a guest on piano today,” said Ruthven, pointing at a nondescript woman sitting in elegant sweatpants in front of a piano. Vanitas just looked at her while everyone politely clapped for reasons he couldn’t ascertain.
They start the piece standing in a huddle, all facing downstage. Jeanne is low in the front in a side lunge with eagle arms and head staring down the imaginary audience. Her intensity was unmatched as she made eye contact with herself in the mirror. Domi, Noé, and Johann were in the back. Noé directly behind Jeanne, like a reflection, his arms in a relaxed victory pose. Domi looped her arm around Noé’s left elbow, slewing his position, the other arm curving violently towards her head. Johann was on the other side slightly distanced from Noé, lunging towards him like he was pushing against a brick wall. Beside Johann was Misha, legs bent in a running position, body low, with his arms pressing out behind him, looking as if he were fleeing the group. Dante was opposite Misha in the arrangement, facing the same direction, but instead of running away, he was being pulled towards the motley crew. Vanitas was between Noé and Jeanne, facing forward, arcing back, and looking at Noé. His right arm stretched upwards and the other rested on Jeanne’s shoulder.
“Like an open mouth,” Ruthven had said as he finalized everyone's positions. For all his predictability he sure had a way to paint a picture.
“The music played by my lovely assistant,” Ruthven said, gesturing once again towards the lady at the piano, “will be soft and in the same time as the music you will be performing too. However, the intro will be much closer to the real thing. If you would demonstrate.
While they were all posing lazily the pianist banged once on the piano before pausing for two counts of eight-ish before beginning a soft medley. She stopped when Ruthven held up a hand.
“At the first sound, you will hold until the crash has finished then you will collapse your entire formation,” Ruthven said. “Except Vanitas, who will stay in position.”
They practiced a few times, Ruthven critiquing how they fell and who they fell onto. Then Vanitas rose, slowly to his feet, as the people around him, while staying low to the ground lifted and pushed themselves up and into a line, with Vanitas in the middle.
In order, it was Johann, Misha, Noé, Vanitas, Jeanne, Domi, and Dante. Johann lurched backward, into Misha, who artfully backed into Noé, who bumped Vanitas into Jeanne, into Domi, into Dante. Dante jumped backward his arms flailing upwards as he did an assemblé backward before stumbling out of the jump and crashing back into Domi, who crashed into Jeanne and so on. Like a human cat’s cradle.
When Johann was once again pushed off of Misha, he fell forward onto his outstretched arms and rolled behind the tight line. Misha almost followed suit before catching himself and ducking down as he stumbled forward allowing the line to stagger. Now the music started for real.
Despite Vanitas’ misgivings about everything involving Ruthven and this residency, he was impressed by this style of choreography. The entire dance they were dancing in a short line facing stage right. They moved the procession like items on a conveyor belt, keeping about 4-5 of the dancers in the line at any given time, with the others moved from the front of the line to the back. Those who moved around the back moved with the choreography as they interrupted the line.
“Like those marching in a parade,” Ruthven explained, “when you are part of the main line-up march like a parade.”
The choreography was not intricate, however, the dynamics of the dance and the minimal travel were complicated pieces to sort out. Vanitas almost felt himself smile during parts of it.
At the end of the class, Ruthven told them that he would finish teaching them the choreography before he sent them the music file. Vanitas rolled his eyes at the confession but he had to admit, to no one but himself, that given the restrictions on the choreography, the entirety of the dance, and how the dancers danced together, was going to change when they were no longer dancing to ballet barre music.
It was like a weird form of psychological torture.
The day ended at four, but Ruthven told them the studios were open until eleven and were technically open all night as long as they didn’t leave after they locked the doors. Vanitas had no reason to stay but he was in no hurry to leave.
He thought maybe he could do some exercises with Jeanne, but Domi had already claimed her and they seemed keen on whatever they were talking about. Domi had probably flattered Jeanne again and was asking for “lessons.”
“Vanitas.”
Vanitas turned at the sound of his name. Noé was standing behind him, looking like a mouse in a maze.
“Yeah?”
“I look forward to dancing with you again tomorrow,” Noé said before leaving the room abruptly.
“Huh?”
Vanitas turned to look at Misha for answers neither of them had. Misha just shook his head and laughed awkwardly. Despite that Noé was the one being silly, Vanitas felt that laugh was aimed more at him than at Noé. Vanitas was considering following him, for safety reasons of course, when someone else called him.
“Vanitas,” Domi called from behind Jeanne.
“What?” Vanitas answered with a practiced grumpy tone.
“Please walk Noé back to the hotel, I fear he won’t arrive if someone doesn’t
go with him.”
“What am I, your Noé’s keeper?” Vanitas mumbled and he did as he was told.