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15
Pen
“Good work today, Pen,” Sebastian says as I hand him my assignment later that week in my ballet lesson. Written work has never really been my thing, but it’s actually been quite fun researching famous ballet dancers and then coming up with some choreography to tell their story. “So Luka Petrin, eh? Quite an interesting choice.”
“He’s an interesting man,” I say with a shrug. “I mean, his dance career was epic and everything, but it was his off-stage antics that got me intrigued. He kinda disappeared off the face of the Earth after his wife’s death.”
“He was, indeed, an incredible dancer. One of the greats, actually. Though he’s a prime example of how the fame side of dance can be a major downfall. Damn shame.”
“What happened to him?” I ask.
Sebastian smiles at the other students, taking their written work and thanking them. He waits until they all file out of the studio before answering. “If you’ve done your research, I’m sure your assignment will tell me. He may have left the dance world behind because he was heartbroken over his wife’s death but it was no secret the man was a serial philanderer with plenty of skeletons in his closet, I’m sure.”
“Do you think that him sleeping around had something to do with her death?”
“Rumour has it she committed suicide. It was all very hush hush, but yes, I believe so.”
“Wow.”
“Either way, he left the ballet world behind. No one knows for sure what happened to him.”
“So he dropped dance completely?”
“Yep. His career was destroyed by the media coverage following his wife’s death. Being an incredible dancer with a fantastic career is the one thing we all hope for, but the fame? That’s what kills the best dancers off in the end.”
“Kill?”
“Their career, sweetie, not literally.”
“Is that why you’re here teaching? Didn’t you want the fame?”
“At one point I did. I’m gay and, frankly, love the attention, but I’m also heavily into self-preservation. I don’t want to live my life under the microscope. Take Madame Tuillard. She’s suffered at the hands of the British press recently, especially since dating D-Neath.”
“Really? I didn’t realise.”
“Don’t you read the gossip magazines or hear the whispers?” Sebastian asks me.
“Err, no.”
He laughs. “I love a bit of gossip…”
“No shit. So, she’s dating an ex-criminal, what’s the big deal? You can’t help who you fall for.”
“This is true, and whilst I totally get why she’s into Duncan—the man is delicious, after all—I’m not entirely sure he’s quite let go of his criminal tendencies.”
“Should you really be voicing your concerns with me?” I ask, laughing a little inside. He really doesn’t know the half of it, because the Breakers sure as shit aren’t here to dance.
“No. I absolutely shouldn’t. This conversation didn’t happen, okay?” he winks, his eyes sparkling.
“You’re such a gossip.”
He waves his hand in the air, then gathers up all the assignments and his bag, and grins. “I can’t help it,comes with theterritory,” he says, repeating the same phrase that I used when we first talked about me being judgemental of other ballet dancers.
“What, being gay, you mean?”
“No, sweetie, being aRobinson. My mother was the biggest curtain-twitcher on our estate. She knew everything about everyone. You couldn’t take a shit without her knowing about it.”
He laughs loudly and I can’t help but join in.
