𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖍

'This will be melted when you wake up, I'm keeping the change -Tyler'

I peeled the cheeky note off the ice cream tub, holding my spoon in my mouth as I sped walked into the dance academy. My hangover meant I only woke up at ten today which left me with one hour till I had to be here and breakfast was now the creamy dessert that I hadn't ate last night that would now have to be eaten as soup.

My dance instructor shot me the nastiest glare as the door I'd tried to subtlety open and sneak past slammed behind me, informing everyone of my arrival. "Miss Versailles, I'm going to count to ten, and if you're not in front of me stretching as if you've been here the whole time there will be consequences."

I mouthed a sheepish sorry, my mouth filled with strawberry chunks, as I scurried off to the changing rooms to quickly slip out of my clothes. When I got back into the studio, I was still tying the silk straps of my pointe shoes. Madame Dubois shot a disappointed look at them once I fell in line with everyone else. She'd always been strict about wanting them tied in a perfect bows.

I'd like to see her tie a perfect bow in three minutes.

When I was still learning how to walk again I'm disappointed to say I wasn't a very good sport about it. My knees would tremble and I'd scream out in frustration when I'd stumble or fall I would remain on the floor sobbing until they'd get me my wheelchair and take me out of there. It was painful, it was humiliating and it was taking a long time.

Too long considering how much I was paying my physiotherapist.

I would threaten to fire her, making some calls to revoke her license and the whole time she remained patient with me as I stumbled around like a newborn deer. It was like my body had forgotten how to work and I was pretty sure it would never work the same way again.

But she refused to give up on me, she would do it and do it with a smile. Yasmine refused to let me give up on myself she'd drag me out of bed even when I was having a particularly hard day and she did it until I could walk a straight line from one end of the room to the other.

But walking was not enough for me. I wanted to run.

I wanted the dull pain in my ankles to leave and I wanted to be able to jump without screaming when I stuck the landing. This led me here, Dubois's Dance Company the closest thing that mankind has ever gotten to recreating hell on earth. Every second I spent here made me lose the last pieces of my sanity but I would still find myself here once a week every week for the last two years.

She made me beg to be let in and even now when I'd catch her looking at me I know she still regretted relenting. I'd given her my sob story, shown her my dark and hideous scars but that barely even made her eyes soften. 'I have a reputation to uphold' Is what she told me, she put on the most elaborate and perfect shows in the country and in her words could not let a 'glorified cripple' come in here and ruin it.

So I promised I'd stay in the shadows, I wouldn't show my face, and would never dare ask to be put in one of her final shows. I wasn't here to perform, I was here because I no longer recognized the body I was in and I desperately wanted that back.

So now she made me suffer every Saturday for two thousand two hundred pounds a month.

"Hold it!" I kept my leg high like everyone else as she continued to count with her own perception of seconds, weaving between us to check our forms. Unlike the other girls I was next to my entire body was trembling, I tried to hide it but I could practically hear my bones groaning for rest but as she walked passed I sucked it in, trying my best to pretend like I wasn't about to die. "Hmm," A bead of sweat rolled down my neck as she circled me, eyeing me from top to bottom. A look of horror washed over my face as she brought a wrinkly manicured finger up to my leg and touched it gently making my entire body crumble to my knees. "Sloppy again Miss Versailles."

I ignored the looks the other dancers were shooting me, they'd seen me beaten down by this woman frequently enough to know this was just another Saturday morning, and just as I would do every Saturday morning I got back on my feet and back into position. "And forty-nine and fifty!" Madame Dubois clapped, "You may all relax."

She gave everyone the closing speech of the day, mentioning the Christmas show and how she'd be on the lookout for the lead. She mentioned some other things but the rushing of blood in my ear distracted me from listening. When she was done we all sunk into a practiced bow and were dismissed.

Only once I was sure everyone had left the changing room did I begin to unwrap my shoes and stretch out my limbs. I let my fingertips run over the marred flesh of my scars, hidden by the dark ink-flinching as if the wounds were still fresh. I rubbed over my flesh thoroughly, reminding myself that I was okay now and this was normal exhaustion not the exhaustion of my body giving up on me.

"You okay over there?"

The sound of the soft voice made me sit up straight and open my eyes only for them to fall on a petite blonde girl who was all packed up with her gym bag over her shoulder. Her blonde hair was packed into a bun that had to be painful and her after-ballet outfit still looked stage-ready. Her large eyes were blue, curious, and staring at my exposed legs.

"Yeah I'm fine," I waved her off, trying to muster a relaxed smile, "These practices just take out everything from me you know?" I laughed.

I thought she'd take the hint that she could go but instead, she dropped her bag and walked over to me, still staring at me. "It's because you're stiff about it you know?" She told me, crossing her legs over the beam to straddle it and sit beside me. "If you relaxed a bit you wouldn't be this tired," Her slender fingers went to my shoulders and for such small hands they were surprisingly good at applying pressure in the right places.

"I-I don't know how anyone can be relaxed in there," I admitted, the tension in my flesh slipping away with every knead of her hands. "I'm Versailles by the way," I introduced myself to her, "Not sure if we've met before."

She shook her head, "We couldn't have," The slight accent in her voice showed its face, "I just moved here recently," She explained, "I'm Anastasia, I usually just go by Stasi though."

"You're a really good dancer Stasi," I complimented, softly taking her hands off my shoulders.

"I wish I could say the same."

My eyes widened at the cold insult, "Ouch?" I recoiled away from her, "Wow I knew I was shit but you didn't have to confirm it."

She rushed to correct herself, "No no I meant you could be better, you're not good yet but you could be."

"Well I'll let you know when I stop shaking like a leaf when my legs are in the air for five seconds," I zipped up my bag and got to my feet. "But I'm sure you're going to enjoy it here, you're not perfect either but you're close."

Before I could walk past her she also stood up effectively stopping me in my tracks, "I'm sorry I'm so bad at this," She gestured between us, "I'm trying to say I can help you-I want to help you get better," She stepped closer to me reaching out to rub her finger down my arm, "And if it's your leg, I know some good workouts to help with getting a bit more flexible."

I stared at her, before slowly looking down at her fingers that were running down my hand, and in that second I realized I'd been reading into this interaction completely wrong. Oh.

"Miss Mostafah I can't say I'm not surprised you came to see me," Erik, my financial advisor looked up at me through his square silver-rimmed glasses, "Especially considering you never have."

I shrugged off my jacket taking a seat, "Am I still rich?"

"Well yes-

"Then there has been nothing to discuss so far."

My parents had a lot of stuff.

Stolen stuff, collected stuff, bought stuff, and a lot more uncategorizable stuff but although differing in what these 'stuffs' were they all shared one thing in common. They were expensive stuff.

When they died the cops froze everything in connection to them which they quickly found out all added to zero in monetary value because what they did not anticipate is that whilst having many tricks up their sleeves my parents also had multiple identities to which they kept all this stuff hidden behind.

Identities, keys, and passwords were given to one of my mother's friends before she died, who gave them to me. To cut a long and paperwork-filled story short I was incredibly wealthy and had been since birth and would likely be decades after death.

Erik was hired by my mom's friend to make sure I was not blowing my money on anything it could buy and I paid Erik more money so he could keep his greedy mouth shut about what I spent my cash on. 

"Which brings me to why you're here now," He pointed out, eyeing me warily, "As you said you've never needed my help before."

"Well, no need to beat around the bush then Erik, I want the keys."

He feigned confusion, "I'm sorry?"

I explained, "The keys, the passcodes, all the deeds and paperwork for all of my properties. "

"You were only supposed to get those once you turned eighteen," He frowned, pushing his glasses up his reddening nose.

"Well I did, six months ago," I pouted, "And you didn't even send a card," I put my hand over my heart like I was hurt, "Me waiting all this time was just a courtesy for finishing school but I think if I spend another day in those dorms I will fling myself off the balcony and try to die right this time."

His face almost went white at the visual image I'd put in his head, "I'll be happy to give you the box right now and mail the paperwork over by tomorrow," He finally agreed.

"Let's hope you haven't turned one into a little holiday getaway huh now?" I joked getting to my feet. "Oh and shit before I forget, I should've done it on my way up here but please make sure to do the transfer for my school fees today, I'll be sending you the new account for my university fees too they want the first terms transfer by end of the month."

He nodded, jotting some things down in his little book, "And Miss Mostafah?"

I glanced back, "Yes?"

"Does that still include Chrysoberyl Jawahir's fees too?"

My lips parted in shock but I quickly collected myself, "Of course."