Chapter 16

As cross as a frog in a sock
Extremely and vocally angry.

• o 🦋 o •

Mica and I were going to Riley and my club tonight to convince Old Man Waylon to let us throw Riley’s birthday party there but first Mica had ballet class which I was going to watch because I was pathetic and Mica-deprived. 

I walked through the green hallway of Mica’s house. I almost began to run because it was so dark and eerie. 

I opened the doors at the end of the corridor. Mica was already at the ballet barre doing exercises. He wore black tights with white socks and a white T-shirt. His hair was in a messy low bun. Wow, look at those legs. He ought to try soccer with those, he could win us the season!

He smiled when he saw me. “James.” 

“Hi.” I smiled back. I wanted to go kiss him but then I noticed the dude in the corner. Right.. that must be his teacher. 

“H-hello! I’m Jay. I’m just here to watch today.” Social skills! Well done!

“I’m aware.” The guy said annoyed, rising from his chair. 

“You’re distracted. Focus!” He said to Mica. He had a faint Long Island accent.

Was that it? It was like I wasn’t even there. 

The guy brushed past me and blocked my view of Mica. “Keep your chin up.” 

No offense but the dude was a total douche bag. He had to be like.. twenty-three at most? But he was acting like he was that much older than us. 

He was lean yet muscular. He smelled like mint and his brown hair had so much gel in it, he was practically an oil slick. He had unforgiving dark eyes and a snobbish pointy nose. 

“So.. what’s your name?” I asked. 

The guy stared daggers at me. “Orlando- I was told you were just here to watch and that you weren’t going to be a bother.” 

“Sorry.. I just wanted to introduce myself.” 

“And now you have. So go ahead and be quiet and stay out of the way.” Orlando turned to Mica again. “Smile! This isn’t a torture session, this is easy.” 

He was so mean! I hurried over to the chair in the corner. 

“NOT MY CHAIR!” The guy snapped. 

I jumped up, startled. I sat on the chair next to it. The dude really was particular about his chair. Bejesus. 

“It’s supposed to look pleasant. You make it look like child-labor.” Orlando said to Mica.

Was he always this damn harsh? I felt bad for Mica. 

“Chin up, chin up, chin up,” The way he was talking was like he was counting to the music instead of barking orders. “Relax your neck, don’t slouch, chin up and smile..” 

Even his voice sounded snobbish. He constantly sounded tired and annoyed. 

The music finished and they moved to another exercise at the barre. 

“Frappé.” Orlando sighed. He explained the exercise at trailblazing speed without even really showing it. He used all these french(?) terms that I didn’t know and turned on the music. 

“You’re off tempo!” Orlando snapped. He began to clap to the rhythm. “And out and in and out and in and..” 

Mica’s foot was moving so fast. I was amazed. The rest of his body stayed still. 

Orlando was scrutinizing his every move. He snidely walked around him. 

“And one and two and..” He began to clap again. “LIFT. YOUR. FOOT.” 

Watching this was honestly brutal but I just had to convince myself this was okay and Mica was used to this. Hell, with his dad he was probably used to worse. 

They had moved away from the barre now and they were doing some actual dancing. I was delighted to see Mica dance. He finally looked happy and calm. The music was serene too. I felt like I could breathe. 

The music came to an end and Mica did a stunning finish. I controlled the urge to clap or whistle. 

Orlando had his arms crossed. “You call that dancing?” 

Silence and shame filled the room. 

What was he saying? 

“Do you think that’s what a dancer looks like? Was that your best?” 

Mica didn’t say anything. 

“I’M TALKING TO YOU!” Orlando’s voice echoed through the studio.

Mica shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Why don’t you just quit then? If you’re not gonna do your best you’re wasting my time. I don’t have time for mediocrity today. You say you want to be a dancer but you give me this shit.” 

My blood turned cold and I shivered. How could he speak about him like that? 

“That was ugly, uninspired, and flat. You think just because you put on a smile it’ll hide the fact that you suck?”

Orlando came closer to Mica. “Let me give you a little tough love here, NO ONE would pay to watch that. If you did that on stage everyone would laugh at you. You’re pathetic.” He whispered into his ear. He shoved against him and moved to the other side of the room. 

He looked so freaking evil. He was enjoying this. 

“So, you want to quit?” Orlando smirked. 

“No.” Mica said determined. 

I was confused. Why not? He didn’t have to take all this!

“Are you gonna fuck it up again?” 

“No. I’ll do better.” 

“Better is not good enough. It’s either perfect or garbage. You choose.” Orlando turned on the music. 

Mica’s movements were slightly harsher now and his face was more serious. He was still moving in accordance with the sweet music, just more.. ‘clean’ I suppose. 

“Oh. Oh, okay…” Orlando nodded. “Relax your face, Mica. There we go.” 

Mica did a tipple pirouette. 

“Don’t get cocky now.” Orlando said, walking around the room again. 

Orlando began to smirk. “Oh, he’s decided he can dance now…” 

Mica began to smile and Orlando nodded. “Took you long enough.” 

The music ended and Orlando walked all into Mica’s personal space again. He just stared at him for a long time. 

I wanted him to back off. I had to control every inch of my being to stay seated. That’s my freaking boyfriend you’re talking to. One more mean word and I’m stepping in. 

“Don’t test my patience again. If you don’t do it right immediately next time I’ll leave, got it?” 

Mica nodded and they moved on. 

• o 🦋 o •

I was puzzled as I waited for Mica to finish his shower. I waited outside on my bike. 

I couldn’t stand the way Orlando spoke to him. His words were degrading and they were all lies! Mica was a great dancer! And I understand he was just trying to make him better but there had to be another way to do that.

Orlando came out with a pair of black sunglasses on. He looked even douchier now. 

I couldn’t help myself. 

“Do you really have to be so mean to him? You know he’s trying his best. And there’s no way he could ever be garbage so don’t even say that about him.” 

Orlando frowned. “I’m sorry, are you a three time FGP gold medalist? Were you the youngest person to ever be accepted into one of the leading ballet companies around the world?” 

I got off my bike. “That doesn’t justify being an asshole.” 

“I’m not an asshole. I’m helping him. This is how we train. This is how we get stronger. He’s used to it.” Orlando opened the door of the black car behind me. 

“That doesn’t make it okay!” 

“Actually it does.” Orlando took off his sunglasses. “You obviously wouldn’t know this but ballet at this level isn’t about being ‘okay’. It’s about being the goddamn best. Either you’re the best..” He looked into the distance. “Or you’re nothing. Mediocrity doesn’t exist in ballet.” Orlando shrugged and got into his car. He started the engine and drove away. 

Was that how Mica felt? Was that why he was such a perfectionist? Was he groomed from a young age to be this ballet-machine? Had he even had a childhood?

Mica came out of the house looking fresh as ever. He looked happy. He was wearing green. My favorite color.

“Ready?” Mica smiled when he reached me. 

“That was really hard to watch.” I said. 

Mica’s eyes clouded and he nodded. “I know. I was slacking..” 

“I didn’t mean that! I meant how he talks to you! Telling you you suck and those things.” 

“He doesn’t mean that. He just wants to fire me up.” 

“Our coach never says things like that. And if he did, he’d be fired.” I said.

Mica thought about that for a moment. “Well, I don’t mind. Seriously, I’m used to it.” 

Mica looked at me like nothing was wrong. He was more confused about why I was suggesting there was something wrong with his teacher. 

“I know.” I didn’t mean for it to come out so bitter. 

His dad. His dad was a freaking tyrant. I looked away and frowned. How much did he get yelled at every day? It just wasn’t right. 

Mica grabbed my hand with both his. 

I looked down at him into his lovely eyes. He got on his toes and kissed me. 

I couldn’t worry when he kissed me. I couldn’t think of anything other than his scent and his lips.. 

Way too soon he pulled away. 

“Let’s go.” He said. 

I grabbed my bike. “It’s nice out. You could ride on the back.” We had planned to take Mica’s car with his fancy driver but I just wanted him to wrap his arms around me again. 

“Sure.” 

Mica got on the back of my bike and I began to paddle. He leaned against my back and sighed contentedly. I loved feeling his arms around me and found my tension melt away. He was safe now at least.

I couldn’t do it.. just burst his bubble and tell him his teacher was a jerk and that it wasn’t okay to be spoken to like that. He was alright with it so there was nothing I could do. And bringing it up all the time when he finally felt at ease seemed cruel so I chose to ignore it.

For now.