Chapter Text
Regina Mills' phone rings just as she gets in the door of her Salt Lake City apartment, and she smiles at her boyfriend's perfect timing.
Her keys go in the bowl on the little bookshelf in the entry, she ditches her flats in the closet and answers with a bright, "Hi, sweetheart, how was your day?"
She has no jacket to discard because it was unseasonably warm for early April today, so she walks straight into the living room and right past her roommate Kathryn, waving quickly as she heads into her own bedroom.
Regina shuts her door and flops down onto the bed as Daniel sighs, "It was alright, but, um, I need to talk to you about something."
She's immediately on edge—that phrase always leads to trouble.
She sits up straighter, resting her back on the headboard instead of lounging, as if that is somehow necessary for this conversation. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I am, I'm fine, sorry didn't mean to worry you, I just…"
Daniel's saying he's fine, but she doesn't believe it. He's nervous about something, and for half a second she worries he's about to break up with her, before she shoos the thought away.
Regina tries not to show her apprehension as she asks, "Then what is up with you?"
"I'm… not coming to the performance, I just can't, you have to understand that."
After all she's giving up for him. How could he do this to her? He has to be joking, he can't not come. Doesn't he know what this means to her? She's the lead in Romeo and Juliet, a role she never thought she'd dance, never will get to dance again, and he is not coming.
Daniel's still talking as her mind reels and she catches, "I can't watch you in an epic love story with him, not after everything that's happened."
So this is about Robin, about that damn kiss that never should have happened and Regina has apologized for over and over again.
She knows she hurt Daniel deeply with that, and she feels terrible about it, she truly does, but they were broken up, and she was drunk and heartbroken. It was a mistake, one she thought they'd gotten past, but apparently not.
It was a cruel twist of fate that when she landed a dream role, her romantic lead was the one man Daniel couldn't bear to see her with. She knows he wasn't happy about that, but she thought he'd get past it to come see her. This is a big deal for her, and she wants him to see her dance this.
Regina only has six more performances left, eight if you count the choreography festival, but that's not the same. Only one more season, one more year doing what she loves, and she gets that it will be hard for Daniel to see her acting in love with Robin, but this is the end of her career. She's retiring after the next season for him, for them, so they can finally be together, no more of this long-distance that's been wearing down on them. She's leaving the career she loves for the other love of her life, so they can get married and have the family they've always talked about.
It's a lead role, and so complex and challenging. She wants him to see it because she's proud of how she's dancing it, actually feels like she's dancing it how it should be, which is so rare for her.
"Baby, I am so sorry, so so sorry, I just can't," Daniel says, and she feels her breath catch as the reality settles in.
Regina tries to plead with him—wishing she'd accepted his request for a Facetime when he texted her earlier instead of begging it off for a phone call because she looked haggard and worn down. She has to believe if he could see what this is doing to her, he'd come.
She has no one, no one who comes and supports her, no family aside from her shrew of a mother, and no friends apart from those in the company. He is the person that comes and supports her, gets on a plane six times a year to see her dance, and sees her.
They haven't seen each other in person since March when she flew out to plead with him for one more year, just one more year of distance and she'd leave all this behind. Couldn't he wait one more year? They've been apart for the last four, what was one more?
Regina knows Daniel hates the distance, she does too, but they refused to hold each other back from their dreams, and they always knew her time as a dancer was running out.
She's twenty-nine, and is continuing to level up, to dance better, but she knows that will start to come to an end. At thirty-two, Kathryn, her best friend and principal dancer at the company is also retiring next season. She can't do it anymore, and while Regina could, for a few more years, she will never make that accolade. She's accepted for herself that she will never be a principal dancer, those years she took off in her teens irreparably harmed her career, and she can't help but wonder if that's part of why she clings to her career so hard now.
Daniel sounds resigned as he tells her again that he's not coming and she feels the tears fill her eyes as her frustration gives way to devastation.
"Please, Daniel. I know it will be hard but this is a role of a lifetime. And I miss you, I miss us, I want to see you, want you to see me dance as Juliet. You have to come."
It's only been six weeks since they last saw each other, hardly a record for them, but if he doesn't come now she doesn't know when she'll see him again. She desperately wants him to see her dance Juliet, but she also just wants to see him. He always tries his hardest to come and see her, to support her. Why can't he do that now?
He sighs, "I'm so sorry, baby, I can't. When I think about watching it, I feel sick. We're good, we are, but I can't handle the visual of what happened that night, I just can't. "
Her breath hitches and she wobbles out, "I understand," as he sighs again.
"Please don't cry, baby. I hate to hurt you. I'm sorry, I am so so sorry," his voice cracks then, and that's when she loses it. "I want to see you, so badly and I feel like an ass—I am an ass, but I just can't do it."
She chokes out, "It's okay," over the lump in her throat, even though it's not, not to her. But she needs to comfort him, knows his torture over this comes from her actions, and she has to accept that.
When Regina emerges from her bedroom post-cry, Kathryn gets up off their blue couch without a word, returning from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine and a sad smile. Regina settles on the left side, pushing the throw pillow into the corner and reaching down under the side table for her ugly but super comfortable leopard print snuggie that had been a gag gift from Killian. It's not something she ever takes out when they have company, but it's just Kathryn, and she's already dressed in a sweatsuit.
This attire hints at a bad night, but Kathryn must have heard at least some of that, to go immediately for the wine, and Regina feels both embarrassed and a little relieved that she won't have to explain.
Their apartment has thin walls, and not only does her bedroom share a wall with Kathryn's room, but also with the living room. It makes privacy hard to come by, which is very annoying at times, but other times, like now, it's helpful.
While Kathryn always liked to talk about and deconstruct every aspect of her relationship with her ex-husband, David, Regina is decidedly the opposite. She doesn't like to show her emotions, grew up in an environment where love was a weakness, and any show of vulnerability was used against her. While she knows that's not right or healthy, it left its mark, and she's a far more private person than most. The only people who know anything about her relationship woes, and her pending retirement, are Kathryn, and Robin—her two closest friends.
Proving why she is so, Kathryn asks, "Do you want to talk about it?" as she sets the wine glasses down on the coffee table before sitting back down on the couch on Regina's right.
Kathryn didn't use a coaster but for once, Regina doesn't scold her for that, she just shakes her head and murmurs softly, "He's not coming."
She doesn't need to elaborate further because Kathryn's grimacing and telling her, "I'm so sorry, honey."
A hand comes to Regina's and Kathryn shuffles in closer. After a beat, Regina leans in, resting her head on her friend's shoulder as she tries to compose herself again. She thought she was ready to come out of her room, but merely saying those words had her getting choked up again.
She and Kathryn don't speak for a few minutes, until her friend remarks, "I'm going to be watching every night. I can't wait to see you dance it."
She smiles softly, feeling another swell of tears that she tamps down. She's too emotional right now for such a touching gesture. Kathryn is dancing Lady Capulet in Cast A, who gets the good performance nights, opening and closing night, evenings instead of matinees. The part isn't too much dancing, but Kathryn has her work cut out for her, and her knee has been bothering her, so she'll need a break, but Regina knows Kathryn well enough to know that she's serious and will watch every single one of Regina's performances in Cast B if she doesn't stop her.
"You don't have to do that," she breathes, and Kathryn shakes her head vehemently.
"I want to, you are amazing in this role—better than Belle, but don't tell her I said that."
Regina laughs lowly because that is so not true. Belle's technique is flawless, it's why she's a principal and why she's the Cast A lead role. "Please, I would kill for her technique, and her feet, those lines... she's stunning."
"Technically, she's gorgeous, don't get me wrong, that's how she got where she is. And don't get me started on those feet, I hate her almost as much as I love her for them. But you bring so much emotion and passion to it, and that's worth so much more than flawless form."
Regina does not agree, but she will admit she's a better actor than Belle. It's not that Belle is bad because she's not, at all, but she does struggle from time to time in the really dramatic moments. Where Regina's emotional performance is what could move someone to tears, it's Belle's dancing that does that. If Regina had to choose, she'd choose technique every time.
Once upon a time she had that, she was the best, the most technically proficient in every class, the little ingenue everyone admired and was jealous of. Belle is younger than her (only by a year, but still), better than her and more accomplished than her. She's not jealous, per se, because Belle has earned it, that girl works her ass off, but more annoyed with herself because she could have had that, if she hadn't lost all that time.
Sighing and reaching for her wine, Regina opts not to respond, and Kathryn just smiles and puts on Dance Moms—their guilty pleasure show.
Half an hour later, they are both giggling as they deconstruct Maddie's performance, fully aware of how awful it is to judge a child like this, but uncaring. This is what they do, and have done for years. David used to judge them harshly for it, but well, he's out of the picture now.
It's only them in their quaint little apartment, and since they both do it, neither is going to judge.
It's just what she needed to take her mind off of Daniel, and she sends up a thank you for her wonderful friend.
She's going to miss this so much when they retire.
The morning of her last week of in studio rehearsals brings a text from her mother, informing her that she's attending Regina's opening night, with a biting comment about how it's not the real opening but will have to do. She doesn't know why Cora Mills bothers to come to see her daughter dance, since all she does is shit on her performances and comment on how lacklustre Regina's career is. It wouldn't be her mother without the passive aggressive commentary, and the snarky, At least it will be worth the expense this time since you finally made it into a lead role.
If she were a healthier and smarter person she'd tell her mother to go fuck herself and not come. But aside from Kathryn, her mother is the only person coming to see her. It's nice to have someone out there supporting her, though what her mother does can hardly be called support.
It kills Regina that even her mother recognizes what a momentous occasion this is and is flying in, yet her boyfriend—who normally comes to all of her performances unless he absolutely cannot get time off—is missing this.
Braving her mother alone might steal what's left of her sanity, but she won't subject her friends to that.
Regina's always a nervous wreck come performance time, but the combination of Daniel not coming and her mother coming—and on her opening night of all times—has her nerves running ragged.
Robin, perceptive as always, notices that something is off right from the moment he sees her. They'd warmed up in their morning class in the other studio and she'd been relatively calm, her normal pre-performance self, but dumbly she'd checked her phone in the quick break before the run through.
All he has time to do is give her a questioning look, then the music starts up and off he goes, in his place, to attempt to woo Rosalind, played by Tiana, one of the company's recent promotions. Tiana will be a demi-soloist next season, and she has a lot of potential, has grown so much as a dancer over this last year. If she keeps up her work ethic she'll continue, too. It's Regina's dearest hope that she can rise to a principal, because this company has never had a woman of colour (or any of anyone of colour for that matter) as a principal and it's about damn time.
Regina has another fifteen minutes before she goes on, and she spends that time rolling through her feet at the barre, moving around as best she can without being distracting, so her body stays loose and ready.
August Booth joins her, but doesn't speak to her or bother her, just offers her a quick smile as he takes a spot at the barre to stretch. He plays her Count Paris, so like her, is not in the opening scene.
If he were someone else, if he were Robin, they'd be quietly laughing and joking. It's not that August isn't a friend, he is, but he's also very focused on the performance, gets very insular, which is something they share.
Normally, she's glad for his quiet demeanour, but today, for once, she wishes he was chatty. If she got a few beers in him, that tongue would loosen right up—but then, if she had a few her tension would melt away and there'd be no need for distraction.
Regina tells herself to focus on the ballet, on the performances, to lose herself in the artistry and ban all the worries and troubles from her mind.
Robin's dancing well today, not that he doesn't usually, but he's slid into his role more naturally than ever before. This is how he works, the character comes out in pieces as he learns the dance and it's only once he's perfected the moves that all those pieces come together into a complete whole that takes your breath away.
He looks far more confident than he has before, and that warms her heart a little, helps settle some of her nerves.
He really is incredible to watch, a perfect mix of strength, poise, and good looks. He's killer on stage, the audience and critics alike eat him up, and performances like this are why. He is a stunning dancer. One of the best males in the company if you ask her, and she's not the only one who thinks so. He'll be promoted to principal next season, she has no doubt. He's dancing principal roles, and beautifully, and Gold is not unaware of Robin's desire to be promoted. In fact, there'd been a split second come contracts where Robin considered not signing because he didn't get the promotion he'd earned. She suggested turning his in on the very last day to make a statement, but Robin's not as passive aggressive as she is (a good thing no doubt) and instead had a meeting with Gold to discuss his concerns.
This would be quite the different performance if Robin hadn't signed (though he was never going to leave) and if she'd left this year as Daniel begged her to. It would be their last performance ever and that thought is just terrifying.
The nerves are still flaring even though she's watching intently, and god she wishes she could just turn her brain off for a minute. What she wouldn't give to enjoy this time instead of being an anxious mess, but that's not in the cards for her.
The men are all gathering together, strong and proud over the body of the young man who died, and the trumpets blast before ringing out their final notes.
This is it, this is her cue. The music changed into that light, lilting melody between scenes, and Ruby takes her place as The Nurse asleep in her chair. It flows into that cheery, bouncing melody, and Regina takes a long, deep breath and runs out, hopping along and waking her nurse before grabbing her doll and dancing with it. She really loves this sequence, it's so fun and light. It allows her to easily slip into her character. The childlike innocence, the bouncing exuberance is not at all what she feels right now, but she fakes it, letting the music guide her into it. It works, right up until they are interrupted by Juliet's parents, to introduce August as her suitor, Paris.
Before she knows it, Act One is complete and they are given a fifteen minute break. She practically inhales a protein bar and fruit smoothie as Robin saddles up beside her snacking on his almonds, as always.
"What happened?" he asks once he's swallowed down his handful, catching her mid-bite.
She narrows her eyes at him and his poor timing, swallowing her mouthful before answering, "Where to start? My mother is coming to our opening night, and the only thing worse than that is that my boyfriend isn't coming at all."
His hand comes to rest on her arm. "That's quite the series of misfortune."
She nods, bites off a bitter, "I know," before downing the last bit of her smoothie.
This time Robin waits until she's finished. "So he's really not coming at all? Not seeing this?"
She can hear his incredulous disdain, and her own annoyance over it simmers. She knows Robin is offended for her, but also knows that he dislikes Daniel, and that colours his reaction.
At her request, they don't bring up what happened on Valentine's Day this year, but she tells Robin that it's too hard for Daniel, and she knows Robin understands why.
"It's still horse shit," Robin murmurs, and she just shakes her head. "It is, this is the role of a lifetime, and…" his voice lowers so only she can hear it, "After all you are giving up for him, he needs to suck it up."
It's not that she doesn't agree, because she does, but she feels the need to defend Daniel, and his decision, their decisions. "It's not for him, it's for us," she says, a line she's repeated over and over again both to Robin and herself. "And I understand, I do. I'm annoyed about it because I want him to see me dance it, but I think we can both appreciate why it would be hard for him to watch me fall in love and sacrifice myself for you."
Robin rolls his eyes, "It's all performance, innit?" He pauses for a second, throwing a few more almonds in his mouth. He's not expecting her to answer that, is he? Of course it's all a performance, there's nothing between them, there can't be. He's her best friend, nothing more.
Once he's swallowed Robin continues, "Honestly, it's a bit insulting to your acting ability to suggest there's something more going on."
"That's not it at all."
"So what, he just doesn't trust you?"
She lets out a sharp breath and feels her temper swell. This is why she shouldn't talk to Robin about Daniel, she should know better. He used to keep his dislike of Daniel under wraps, while she knew he wasn't Daniel's biggest fan, she had no idea how wrong Robin thought he was for her, until they broke up in February and Robin let it all out. Since she can't unknow it, Robin's open and honest about his feelings for Daniel now, which is better for their friendship, but causes a tension that was never there before, and she hates that.
"Can we not, please," she hisses, and Robin nods, thank god.
"So what did the Wicked Witch say?"
Robin always comes up with creative nicknames for her mother, and a better daughter would not enjoy the insults as much as she does, but she's never been a good daughter, just ask her mother.
She shows him the messages, and delights in his sympathetic rage, and the way he starts to impersonate her mother, turning all her mother's harsh words back onto Cora herself. Where her mother always gives thinly veiled criticism (and at times not so thinly veiled), Robin showers her with praise and care. He's not afraid to make jokes at the expense of her mother, and she loves him for that. It helps reset her mood and by the time the break is over, she feels a little lighter.
All may not be well with her boyfriend, or her family, but it is here, with him, and that's good enough for today.