Chapter Text
Thomas was sitting on a bench in the lobby outside the studio. It was mid-September and the most beloved and most hated season was upon the Grantham Ballet Company: Nutcracker season. While audiences loved to watch the animated toys and the dances of marzipan and chocolate, for dancers, hearing the Waltz of the Flowers or the Dance of the Sugar Plum music trickling out the studio was a nauseating experience.
Thomas had been with the company for about seventeen years now, and had worked his way up from the corps all the way to Principal in that time. This year, he expected to receive the role of Nutcracker Prince, as the principal that had always danced the role previously had retired last year.
As he was pulling his shoes out of his bag he heard Daisy and Ivy giggling as they walked into the room. They were speaking in hushed voices, glancing around the room, as if looking for someone.
“So what’s happened this time?” Thomas inquired in a bored voice as the two girls took a seat on the bench opposite of him.
“Have you heard Thomas?” Daisy asked him excitedly.
“About?” Thomas snapped.
“The new soloist?” Ivy exclaimed as she yanked her pointe shoes out of her bag by the ribbons.
“What about her?” Thomas asked as he slipped his shoes on, “Afraid she’ll beat you two out of your parts?” he said with a self-satisfied smile. Ivy rolled her eyes.
“No, him. His name is James and he just joined the company. I don’t know where he’s from but they’re starting him as a soloist. Not even in the corps. Can you believe it?” Ivy said, posing the question more to Daisy than Thomas.
“I know, I really can’t believe it,” Daisy said as Alfred entered the room.
“Can’t believe what, Daisy?” he asked as he plopped down on the bench next to Thomas.
“Theresh er ner sholoisht!” she replied, teeth full of Kirby grips as she put her hair up in a bun.
“Right before Nutcracker? What are they thinking?” Alfred exclaimed.
“They were thinking that they can’t have you dancing one of the main roles and if they didn’t take on someone new, you’d be the only one left to do it,” Thomas said dryly. He was looking down, putting his other shoe on when a smelly toe pad hit him in the eye.
“Ach, what was that?” Thomas yelled.
“Stop bullying Alfred,” Ivy ordered as she snatched her toe pad back. Alfred’s face was covered in a goofy smile, looking at Ivy, though she didn’t notice him.
“Well anyway, whoever he is he better be good,” Thomas said as he stood to walk into studio to begin warming up.
Alfred watched Thomas walk into the studio.
“Why’s he got to be like that?” Alfred asked.
“Don’t know. Maybe he’s worried this new James will take the Prince,” Ivy offered.
“No. Thomas’ll get that. He’s probably right. They brought him here to take my part,” Alfred sighed.
“You don’t know that, Alfred,” Daisy said reassuringly.
“Thanks, Daisy,” Alfred said sincerely, smiling at her.
“Alright you two, let’s get this over with,” Ivy said, standing to go.
“Get what over with?” Alfred asked, sounding confused.
“Carson’s ‘this is the most important show of the year’ speech,” Ivy said exasperatedly, “We’ve heard it enough times.”
The three of them stood and walked into the studio. It was a large room, a whole wall covered in mirrors, and the other three lined with barres. Black Marley covered the hardwood floors and an upright piano stood in the corner, along with a stereo system.
All the dancers were crowded into the studio, from corps to Principals, sitting in little circles stretching and some on the barre warming up.
“Everyone, may I have your attention,” came the booming voice of Mr. Carson, the company’s artistic director. Everyone one turned minutely to face him, tired looks already on their faces.
“So as you all know, today we begin the Nutcracker season, which is the most important show of the year,” he explained with a smile, his voice full of pride. Everyone one glanced at their friends, some of the corps members anxiously, but most with raised eyebrows and little smirks.
“As with every year, we will be spending the first couple of weeks learning choreography. I’ve already said it every year, but I’ll say it again. Though there are official understudies, everyone is an understudy for every part. So learn all of the routines,” Carson said in a voice that made his statement sound more like a threat than an encouragement.
“In two weeks, we’ll be holding auditions and then you will all be informed of your roles in our upcoming production. That is all.” Carson stepped back and motioned to Mrs. Hughes.
“Good morning everyone,” she said warmly, “You can all take a few more minutes to warm up and then we will start with learning the party scene.” She turned away from the group to speak with Mr. Carson.
Daisy, Ivy, and Alfred took a place in the center of the room to begin warming up.
“So Daisy, what part are you hoping to get?” Alfred asked in the middle of a grand plie.
“Oh, anything would be fine. Like Snowy or Dewy,” she replied, not sounding terribly confident.
“I’d like Spanish or Sugar,” Ivy declared.
“You know you won’t get Sugar, it’s Anna’s last year, they’ll surely give it to her,” Daisy said, warming up her pointes.
“Fine then. Spanish,” Ivy retorted.
“I think you’d make a great Spanish, Ivy,” Alfred said kindly.
“What about me?” Daisy snapped.
“You too,” Alfred said, holding his hands up in defense as he sat in a split. Both girls gave him an annoyed look that said ‘who’s side are you on’ before they were interrupted by a charming voice that said “hello” from behind them. All three heads turned to see a young man with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes standing behind them smiling.
“I’m Jimmy,” he said, holding out his hand for one of them to shake. Wide-eyed and pleased-looking, Ivy eagerly grabbed his hand.
“I’m Ivy, Principal, and this is Daisy and Alfred,” she said, motioning to each of them respectively.
“Hello, Jimmy nice to meet you,” Daisy said friendly.
“Welcome to hell, or the land of sweets, whichever you prefer. You picked a good time to join,” Alfred said gruffly as he stood to meet Jimmy. A perplexed look flickered across Jimmy’s face before settling back to its normal expression of charming confidence.
“I took the opportunity when it came, just so happened to be now,” Jimmy replied smiling, “it’s nice to meet you all” he said in an alluringly deep voice.
“Pleasure is all mine,” Ivy tittered, batting her eyelashes at him. Daisy rolled her eyes, and Alfred thought he saw Jimmy doing the same, but nearly imperceptibly.
“Alright everyone. Out in the center, we’re starting,” announced Mrs. Hughes.
For the next few hours, rehearsal went on, all the dancers learning choreography and practicing it in groups. Thomas was most uninterested in the rehearsal, having had the steps ingrained in his memory for years now, that is, until he saw someone new standing on the opposite side of the room next to Alfred. He was slightly shorter than Thomas, well-muscled, and quite handsome. But he seems to be friends with Alfred, must be something wrong with him. After a pause Thomas realized, that must be James.
Later that afternoon Thomas was in the middle of running the Prince solo along with some of the other dancers, including Alfred and this new James. Part way through the routine Thomas noticed James out of the corner of his eye. His pirouettes are nice, Thomas thought. But they’d never choose him over me for this. As Thomas was completing a jump sequence Alfred nearly ran into him.
“Watch it, Alfred,” Thomas hissed.
“Well maybe if you did the right steps I wouldn’t bump into you,” Alfred said grumpily.
Did I mess up the choreography? No, Alfred is just being a dolt again. The fouette combination began and all the men began doing their best turns. With every rotation, Thomas could see flashes of golden hair fly in front of his eyes. Lovely hair, and look at his legs. I bet his jumps are great. Wait, why is everyone… no… cabriole… god I’m off the music…
“Thomas!” Mrs. Hughes exclaimed as she abruptly cut off the music.
“Yes Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas replied, trying to collect himself. All eyes were on him and he willed himself to stay composed and unaffected looking.
“What on earth is going on with you?” she demanded.
“What do you mean, I don’t understand?” he asked, trying to sound oblivious, knowing that she’d never buy it.
“You should know this dance. You’ve been understudy for three seasons now. Even James did it correctly and he’s just got here,” she sighed. Thomas glanced down at the ground but he could still see the smirk on the handsome man’s face who was just a few feet away from him. Thomas prayed he wasn’t turning red.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hughes. Won’t happen again,” he mumbled, looking up to nod at her, attempting to keep an air of self-assuredness about him that in that moment he didn’t truly possess.
“Good, from the top,” she instructed, turning to start the music again.
For the rest of the day, Thomas didn’t miss anything major again, but there was just something off about his dancing.
At the end of the day everyone was in the dressing rooms or the lobby, taking smelly shoes off and hair out of tight buns. Thomas was just putting his shoes away when Mrs. Hughes approached him.
“Thomas, a word,” she said and turned to go to her office. He sighed, grabbed his bag, and followed her.
Once they were both inside she turned to him and sighed.
“Thomas, you know you’re up for the role of the Nutcracker Prince. I’m assuming you were expecting to get it, am I correct?” she asked, giving him a serious look.
“I suppose I was,” he answered cautiously, though smugness still crept its way into his voice.
“Then I suggest you don’t have a repeat of today’s rehearsal. It was like you had never done this dance before,” she paused, “Because as I’m sure you are aware, you’re not the only skilled dancer here.”
“I was aware of that fact, yes,” Thomas replied icily. Who is she talking about? Certainly not Alfred, James maybe. He is good, but he just got here. She can’t be serious.
“Now, I’m not saying you won’t get it. But I need you to be performing at your best to prove to me, and to prove to the rest of the company, that you’re more worthy for this part than anyone else. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Mrs. Hughes. Like you said, this isn’t my first time,” Thomas replied exasperatedly. So I had an off day, everyone does, why does she make such a fuss?
“Alright… and there’s nothing I need to be aware of. Nothing like last spring with that Philip bloke—“
“No, Mrs. Hughes. Nothing like that,” he snapped, cutting her off.
“Good, because I can’t have that kind of drama in my dressing room.”
“Of course not. No problems here.” Thomas was eyeing the door, ready to bolt through it.
“I’m glad we have that settled. Have a good evening Thomas, see you in rehearsal tomorrow,” she said as she sat down to her desk.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas huffed as he left her office. He stomped back out into the lobby, and thankfully, it was mostly deserted. Thomas didn’t think he could take any teasing from Alfred. Shite day, shite rehearsal. Oh well, maybe tomorrow will be better.