December 12th, 2001

Randy's father, according to the tabloids, had gone home to Colorado. The headlines were scandal filled, saying he'd "fled" New York and was staying "apart" from his soon to be ex wife and kids. It didn't mention the kids, but it was implied. His new wife and kids were in Colorado.

Randy wasn't sure why the tabloids were showing his new wife and kids as the good guys. There weren't really any good guys in this. They had to divide the two families even more like this, to sell papers. It made Randy never want to leave his room again. But they'd probably write about that, too. "Michael Chevalier's son is a recluse! More on Page Six!"

Likely a good use of his time would be to go to Reiha's studio to practice ballet with her and get these feelings out with dance. But with the way he felt now, likely he'd just injure himself. Not careful at all, just moving. Reiha said that a movement without focus was a wasted movement. Randy took this to heart.

Instead, he was sitting at the counter eating a pizza, which wasn't good for him. It even had the cheese this time. He hoped Sam wouldn't discover him eating cheese, but if he did, then he kind of wanted to shrug at him. Eating cheese would mean that likely Randy would feel stomach sick later and it would ruin his day. Not like his day wasn't already ruined.

He kind of wanted to go to the arcade. Reiha had told him if he practiced more en pointe, then he might be eligible next year for a solo variation at her school's spring production. But he just didn't see how that would be possible. He was a boy. Boys don't dance en pointe.

"What are you doing there, kiddo?"

Well.

He decided not to answer Sam. Instead, Sam's hand appeared in the pizza box and he stole a slice. Just as well.

"Can I eat this? Looks good this time."

"Yeah."

He sat down with a sigh. Randy and his family had come back to L.A the day after what had happened in New York. A few days later, Randy didn't feel very Christmassy. His mom had decorated the whole house, which kind of stabbed him in the stomach. She was still trying, even though Maya had a tantrum when they got home saying that Christmas was cancelled. Randy kind of had to silently agree.

Sam reached for the tabloid on the table. It had to be Maya's. She had a bad habit of reading every single thing the papers came out with about their father. He silently read it as he ate his slice of pizza. He threw the magazine back on the counter.

"You want to go to Disneyland?"

Obviously Sam was trying to make him feel better. Randy just shook his head.

"You want to see a movie?"

There was nothing Randy would want less. Because his father was in the movies.

"You want to lay around and eat ice cream?"

Randy had to look at Sam with that one. "What?"

"You know. It's what Carrie does in Sex and the City." Sam had seen so much Sex and the City because of Randy that he could quote it from start to end.

"Um. Maybe."

"You want to lay around and eat ice cream and watch Sex and the City?"

"Maybe."

"Let's buy ice cream."

"You can."

Sam sighed silently where Randy couldn't see. Sam needed some help today. Nothing normal was working on this kid. He must be really depressed. He ate pizza with him, more wanting to get rid of the pizza so that Randy couldn't eat any more. Randy was going to get sick later, and Sam was prepared for that. The person who'd accepted this pizza when it was delivered should have checked it and chucked it when they saw cheese. He'd have to have a word with the housekeepers.

Mostly, he was watching Randy, because likely if he was this depressed he forgot to inject himself with insulin before he ate this. So, Sam would be with him like a siamese twin until he was done.

Mostly, Sam was angry at Michael. The tabloid on the table hadn't helped. He was sure that this was Michael actually talking to them. He was that petty and wanting to hurt Anais. He wanted to go all over L.A and buy them and destroy them, but Randy and likely Maya had already seen it. He knew Anais could handle it and it would just fuel her fire to get rid of him, but the kids were different.

Anais chose this time to enter the kitchen. She was in a flurry, and Sam realized he was wrong. He picked up the magazine.

"Is this yours?" he gestured it to her.

"Yes. Nancy brought it to me. And now we're going to pack up and leave. That magazine isn't the end of it."

Randy was staring at his mother. He hadn't really thought his mom saying they'd go to France was real. "Um. To France?" he asked. His pizza was still in his hand.

"Is that cheese?"

"Um. No."

"Liar. Yes, we're going to Paris. Go pack. We're going tonight. Paris won't stand for this. They'll say your father is a-" she said a swear word in French. Sam knew French swear words. They were the only French words he knew except for "hello" and "thank you".

"He is a-" Randy repeated it. Sam was surprised. He didn't normally say things like that about his father.

"Yes, he is. Go pack. Also, take your insulin now and a Lactaid tablet."

Anais knew her son so well and he was so relieved.

"But you said dad has a right to us. You can't take us out of the country."

"Let him hire a private investigator. I care about my kids, and I know France will protect us. They won't stand for this. They'd never write something like this."

"Dad called you a-" Randy said another word that he'd never heard him say.

"I know what he said. That's why we're going to France. If he says something like that about me in public, then we don't need to be here."

"Okay. But what about my lessons?"

"You can talk to Reiha and Yuna on the phone. They can give you direction from there."

"I can't get direction from Reiha on the phone. She has to correct my form."

Sam liked the fact that Randy seemed to be reviving, thinking about ballet. That was normal for him.

Anais sighed. "The greatest ballet dancers in the world live in Paris. We will find you a temporary coach."

"That ballet dancer will interfere with Reiha's teaching."

"Randy..." A warning.

Sam could tell Anais needed to go to France for her own sanity. That tabloid must have done a number on her. He didn't blame her. He took Randy by the shoulders.

"Um. Let me talk to him, alright?"

Anais sighed, looking wounded. "Yes, Sam. Please talk to him." She left the room, and Randy let out a loud growl that Sam could only attribute to him being a young teenager. He used to make a similar noise when he was young. Randy went back to eating.

"What do you want to pack for France?"

Randy let out another similar noise.

Randy was upstairs taking a nap after Sam gave him his medicine. He'd need to sleep what he just ate off. Sam was downstairs in the office now, feeling like a teenage girl keeping a secret. He hated that about his job.

He was leaned back in the office chair, the phone's cord stretched all the way back. He'd just had a huge fight with Randy. Randy obviously didn't want to go to France, and he betted that Maya wanted to go even less. But, as minor children they had no choice, even if their mother was about to break the law. No doubt this visit to France would interfere with Michael's visiting rights. As if Sam cared about Michael.

Finally, somebody picked up on the other end of the line.

"Hello, L.A Conservatory of Ballet. How may I help you?"

Sam always thought the name of Reiha's ballet company sounded like a mortuary. He wasn't sure why.

"Hello. May I speak to your director, Reiha Midorikawa?"

"Yes. She is currently in her office. Please hold."

Sam waited patiently. He had to ask her a very important question and he really hoped she'd say yes. He'd already had to ask his wife the same thing, but her answer had been extremely enthusiastic and scream filled with joy. Sam didn't think Reiha's reaction would be the same.

The phone clicked. "Hello. Midorikawa here."

Sam liked Reiha's less than formal salutations. It always set him at ease.

"Hello. It's Sam."

"Oh, Sam! Hello! Is Randy coming to the studio today? I can prepare. Ask him to bring a tutu today. A wide one, not a romantic one. I want him to practice en pointe without seeing his feet."

He sighed.

"Uh oh."

"He'll have to practice in Paris. His mother is taking the family there for an extended period of time."

"Ohh. Hmm."

She didn't sound entirely deflated. Just a little bit.

"I called to ask you something." Sam was waiting for the right moment.

"Yes?"

Now was the moment. He dreaded it. "I need you to come to Paris with us."

"Oh. Sam..." She was unsure.

"Randy needs you. He needs structure right now. His mother wants him to get a different coach in Paris, and he won't agree. I don't know how long his mother plans to be in Paris, but a few nights ago she was attempting to tell the family that she plans to move there." He paused. Reiha didn't say anything. "I have to call Yuna, too. I worry that if you both don't move there, then Randy will lose everything. His mother isn't thinking clearly."

Reiha knew Yuna very well. They often talked about Randy together to discuss his schedule and to not overwhelm him with teaching. They were friends.

"This is very extreme, Sam. We have to think about this rationally. I know your heart is in the right place."

"It is in the right place. I know it's irrational. I already spoke to my wife about moving to Paris."

"I'm sure she was happy about that. But, my life and Yuna's life are here in L.A. Yuna has children, Sam."

Sam realized what he was asking. Thinking about Yuna's children. They'd be just as upset as Randy and Maya about being uprooted.

"Please tell me what to do." Sam didn't mean it in an angry way, and he was sure his tone hadn't conveyed that.

"I have a few friends with the Paris Opera Ballet. I can call them. If I tell Randy to train with one of them, he'll listen."

"Reiha, I don't know..."

"You just asked me what to do. I'm telling you. I'll call them. It'd be the evening now in Paris. I'll call them right now."

"This is going to be so hard on Randy."

Sam had never spoken more of the truth in his life.

"I know it is. He's very sensitive and doesn't like change. This divorce is the biggest change that his world could ever have. He's not in control. The best thing about ballet, is that it gives you control of yourself. He needs that structure. I know that better than anybody. So, I will call my friends at the Paris Opera Ballet. They'll figure out what to do. They have more connections than I do in Paris."

"Randy tried to eat an entire pizza today. With cheese."

Reiha paused.

"It had pepperoni on it."

Reiha let out a couple of small noises. Sam assumed these were private Japanese words. "...Send him to me."

"Alright."

"That is a level of destructive that I've never seen from him before."

"I have."

"And you didn't tell me about it?" She sighed. "Alright. Well, send him to me. I'll talk to Yuna. We'll both talk to him."

Sam agreed and they hung up. Reiha was currently in her office, so Sam knew he had to get Randy to her soon. Randy would be sluggish and not feel very well, but in that state he might be more receptive. He had to bet on it.

"I don't want to go to the studio. I'm not in the right form. I ate cheese. I feel bloated."

Randy was in the car with Sam, wearing a light purple leotard with princess lines and a light blue wrap around skirt with white tights. His hair was up in a formal bun that he'd taken a long time on, intricate braids that must have been like meditation for him to put up. Sam had waited patiently for him to finish it. His white practice circle tutu was in the back of the car, tucked away neatly in a tutu bag. New and darned pointe shoes were also in the back. Sam hoped after the conversation they were about to have, that he'd still be in the mood to practice.

At least Randy felt bad about what he'd done. That meant he wasn't entirely gone. He still wanted to be on track with his athletic diet even though he'd derailed himself a little bit.

"Detox with lemon juice later like Maya."

"Eww, Sam... Maybe."

Sam let out a small snort at this. Randy was coming back.

"Did you know that Maya ate another burrito again? With queso this time?" Randy remarked. "I guess I'm not the only one abandoning my diet. Why does that make me feel better?"

"Because you're mad." This was a shot in the dark to make Randy talk more.

"I don't know about that. More upset than mad."

"We can talk about that."

"Maybe later."

That was more progress than Sam had all day.

"Mm, I don't feel good."

"You can take a nap until we get there."

"Maybe I shouldn't dance today. Maybe I should go home. We can try again tomor-" he paused. "...Oh." His eyes were closed.

Sam decided to say something. If Randy wanted to go home, that wouldn't work.

"We're just going to talk today. You don't have to dance if you don't want to."

"Ambush."

"Yes. Sorry."

Randy sighed, settling into his seat. At least Sam had convinced him to keep going to the studio.

When they got to the studio, the receptionist nodded to him like she did almost every day. He gave her a small smile. They went into the dressing room and Randy put on his ballet slippers. Seemed like he wanted to practice a little bit, which made Sam secretly relieved. They went into the studio and Randy turned on the CD player, willing to dance to whatever was in there. They discovered it was Raymonda. He shrugged and started doing warm ups on the barre. Sam hoped it was at least calming him down by letting him focus.

Sam went to Reiha's office, and discovered that Yuna was already there. Yuna was her usual self, dressed in wacky clothes. It made him feel relief. Her hanging flamingo earrings were familiar, as well as her shorts with the palm trees and black tights. Her modified t-shirt had a sparkly pineapple on it. She'd obviously permed her long black hair recently, too. Reiha was the opposite in appearance. She was every bit of a retired ballet dancer. She was all wiry muscle and black and white Chanel suit with a tight bun.

"Oh, Sam," Reiha started. She started to get out of her chair to greet him. Yuna was faster.

"I saw OK Magazine," Yuna said. "Is he here?"

Sam felt a little comforted. Both of them had known Randy since he was very small, since before he'd met him. They were almost like extended parents to him, just like Sam. They had his best interests at heart.

"Yes. He's warming up on the barre in the main studio."

"Good." Reiha stood up, all business as usual. "I'll get into my practice clothes. I'll lead him in a class. I bet he needs calming down. When he's in a better state of mind, we'll talk to him. He'll be more open in that case."

Yuna was nodding. "I want to help him, too. I was um- I was going to have him practice Haydn this week. We've been practicing the pre-romantic period. It challenges him. I brought some scores. I thought in Paris that he might..." Her face always betrayed her.

"Sam, what happened in New York? We only saw what the tabloids said. We don't trust-" Reiha didn't get to finish.

"It's all true. He went to OK Magazine and told them everything. He did it to hurt Anais, but he hurt Randy and Maya."

Silence filled the room. Yuna was staring at the floor, obviously trying not to cry. Reiha was shaking her head, staring at the wall.

"Why would he do that? I don't- I don't get it..." Yuna sputtered.

"He wants to hurt Anais. He said he doesn't care about his children in New York. Well, he only cares about his kids in Colorado."

Yuna really was in tears now. She obviously didn't know what to say to that.

"We're going to make sure Randy is focused while he's in Paris. We'll distract him. I called my friends at the Paris Opera Ballet. They have some ideas. I want to arrange something for him by next week. Something that will make him excited. Unfortunately, it isn't the right season for ballet intensives, but maybe I can arrange something similar with the Paris Opera Ballet School. If he has to go there every day, he can't think about Michael."

"Don't even say that man's name," Yuna sniffled.

"I'm sorry."

Yuna shook her head. "I want to go to Paris. My kids will be on Christmas break in a week or so. We can at least go there on a vacation for them. I'll be there for Randy. I can distract him. I can compile all the pre-romantic period music sheets that I have and pile them onto him. I can demand that he perform drills. I can make him so busy that he can't even think."

"Do you think that's possible?" Sam was really hoping this wasn't just desperation because she was upset.

"I don't have the money for that, but I can't let him go there by himself."

Sam was so relieved. "If you talk to his mother, I'm sure she'd make something happen. She's so worried about him."

She nodded. "I'll talk to my kids about it. My daughter might not like it, because she'll be away from her friends."

"Maya will be there. Your daughter can keep her company. They're friends."

"They're not the best of friends, but you're right."

"Maya will be happy for the company, I'm sure."

Reiha was shaking her head now. "I want to go to Paris, too. But, I really can't. We're preparing for the semester's graduation. I have five students graduating, and I have to write recommendations."

Sam touched her shoulder. She looked really upset.

"I know you're busy. Calling the Paris Opera Ballet is enough. You've already started. You can arrange something for him. Yuna can be there and tell you what's going on, and I can, too."

She sighed. "At least we're forming a plan. I worry if Michael speaks more. What that'll do to him and Maya."

"That's likely why Anais wanted to jump ship tonight. Who knows what might come out tomorrow. I'm sure what Michael said is going to be all over Entertainment Tonight at 7pm today."

"You're right. I get what she's doing. I would do the same. Knowing the media, they'll spin what he says and we won't even be able to tell what's real anymore. It'll be even more confusing for Randy and he'll just get more hurt."

Yuna was going to the door. "Let's go now. Give him a class, Reiha. I'll think about what I'm going to do while you do that. It'll give me time to think. My kids get out of school at 2:30 and 3pm. I have to go by two. I want to tell them what we're doing by then."

Reiha knew how important that was. Yuna's kids mattered, too. Without another word, she got up to go to the door. Sam led them out.

They found Randy sitting cross legged in the middle of the studio listening to Raymonda. He'd put on his tutu and pointe shoes, but looked pretty depressed. He was staring at his satin ribbons like they'd go somewhere.

"Raymonda?" Reiha asked. "Let's do something slower. I'd like for you to practice slowly while not looking at your feet at all. Let me see..." She went to the CD and record shelf, ticking through the records. "Go to the barre. We'll do warm ups."

He didn't respond to her, but got up and moved to the barre. He got into first position and waited for her.

Yuna sat on the bench next to Sam. She took out her phone and started to text. Sam wondered if she was texting her ex-husband, informing him of what she intended. Unlike Anais and Michael, Yuna and her ex-husband had left each other on mutual terms. They were civil with one another. Sam wished with all the world that Michael and Anais could be that way. But, it'd never happen.

Reiha put on something slower and went to the barre with Randy.

"Alright and releve," Reiha told him, mirroring him on the barre. "Hold. And breathe. And down. Pause. Releve. And hold. Hold. Don't forget to breathe."

These were ankle and feet strengthening exercises. Sam had seen them enough to know. Secretly, he matched his breathing to what Reiha was saying, to calm down himself.

"And down. Second position. Arms. Shoulder down. Yes. Releve. Hold. Move that chest. Thank you. Suck in that belly. Thank you. Hold."

"I should tell him to suck in his belly when he plays violin, too," Yuna whispered to Sam. She let out a small smile. Was that an attempt at a joke? Sam hoped so. She seemed pretty depressed.

Reiha started to get Randy to stretch his limbs with efficient words while strengthening his ankles and feet. Stretching was so important. These exercises were expert. No wonder Randy felt so lost. What would he do without her? The way she spoke instructions to him left no room for variation or thinking on his part. It really made sense to Sam why he needed this every day. Someone else would have a different style. Randy couldn't handle that change.

Over the next hour, Reiha led Randy in practice. Slow movements where he had to focus in order to find his feet. Sam wanted Randy to continue this. It seemed like a pretty important part of learning pointe. What would happen if he had to stop his training now? A new coach wouldn't know where they needed to pick up on his training.

By the end of it, Sam knew Reiha had to come with them. But, that was impossible. Reiha was the director of this company. Yuna was beside him, still texting.

Reiha was leading Randy in a cool down, their standard. A series of slow formal curtsies, that were actually whole body control exercises. Sam thought it looked beautiful.

"And breathe. First position."

Randy slowly got up from the deep curtsy, and got into first position in front of her, standing tall. He was still looking at the floor though.

"Chin up. Yes. And we're finished. Good job."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Sam's mouth opened when Randy began to cry. Reiha took him into a hug and Yuna saw it, too. She put her phone on the bench and rushed to them. She hugged Randy from behind.

"I don't want this to be my last practice," he admitted. "I don't want to leave."

"It's not your last practice, sweetie. Don't think about that," Yuna said.

"But my mom says we're moving to France..."

"We'll figure it out, honey. Nothing's over. Nothing's over. You don't have to cry." Yuna's voice was full of comforting noises. At least it made Sam feel a little better. Randy, however...

"But we're moving to France..."

Sam got up from the bench. "We don't know that yet. Your mom's just trying to protect you and your sister for now. She said in New York that she didn't want to move there yet."

"Yeah...but...how long are we going to be there?"

"Maya goes back to school in mid-January."

"I don't want to be in France for a month!" Randy burst into tears.

"Well hey, hey. If it's just for a month, then this isn't your last practice. Right? And I'm going to France with you. We'll practice Haydn and Mendelssohn! You love Mendelssohn." Yuna squeezed him.

"You are?" that made Randy's voice calmer. Sam was a little relieved.

"Yes. I'll be joining you next week with my kids. I was texting your mom while you were practicing."

"Oh..." Randy's voice was so high pitched.

"And I'm going to arrange an intensive with the Paris Opera Ballet. The person I contacted is a former student. I trained her myself. She knows my methods. You won't be missing anything. I'll tell her exactly what to do."

"Ohh..." Randy was softening.

"See? It's going be alright, sweetie. You're not going to miss out on anything. We promise," Yuna tried to assure him.

"Okayyy..." He was crying again.

They separated from him. He was wiping his face with his hands.

"How about you cool down, get something to eat," Reiha said, touching his shoulders and getting face to face, letting him really know she meant it. "Get your blood sugar up. We'll do another practice, okay? I'll talk to my former student some more tonight. She's already receptive. She was just in Daphnis et Chloe. Isn't that exciting? They just wrapped up a week ago."

"I- I played that when I was studying Ravel."

Yuna's finger went up. "You did! Oh, that's exciting. You can talk to her about it!"

Reiha smiled, squeezing his shoulders. "See? You already have something to talk about. She'll love you. She's really open to new ballet ideas, too. I'm sure you'll love her."

Randy was nodding and Sam could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile. Randy walked over to him, ready to get into casual clothes to go get something to eat. Sam was glad he was following direction so well today. A lot of the time when Randy was upset, he grew rebellious and wouldn't listen to anyone. But, Reiha was different. He'd follow her to the sun if she commanded it.

They were in the restaurant around the corner that they often went to. Sam could see a hint of tears in Randy's face.

"When are we going to eat here again?" he asked, poking his chicken breast with his fork.

"In a month. Maya has to go back to school in a month."

"What if mom makes her go to school in Paris? What if I have to get tutored in Paris?"

That was too much change to think about right now. "You're going to a ballet intensive. That's tutoring enough."

"What if I have to learn math in French? Math is hard enough. I thought I was done with traditional school. Mom wrote a letter."

Sam wasn't sure what to say to that. He wasn't sure what was going to happen either. He was already thinking about having to force Randy to pack for at least month's worth later. That would be a big undertaking, not unlike when he had to pack for his mom's summer tours. Except he had a lot more notice when he had to do that. And he was usually excited about it, and Yuna and Reiha would come with them. It'd all be arranged in advance. This was way too different.

Maybe during this next practice, he could ask the housekeepers to get started. Sam knew which video games Randy was currently into, also. He could pack those for him. Yuna had been talking about music with Randy, too. He could ask Yuna what she suggested he pack for Randy, too.

Randy was eating now, and Sam didn't want to disturb him while he was. Sam was picking at his own food, thinking. He realized suddenly that he had to pack for a month's worth, too. And so did his wife. Maybe she'd pack for them. With the enthusiasm she'd had this morning, she might already be done.

During the practice, Sam was texting Randy's mom. Asking how long she thought they might be in Paris. She'd already spoken to Yuna, so he knew she was serious.

"I don't know. I want to protect them from Michael. I want to stay in Paris until the news cycle picks up something else."

That made sense to him. "The news cycle goes pretty fast. Maybe the media will forget about this quickly."

"Maybe. But he might continue. That's what I'm worried about. I'm so sorry. I don't want this to happen."

"We'll stay there as long as you need to. It's about keeping them safe. That's my job, too."

"Thank you, Sam."

"How much should we pack? I'll help him pack tonight. My wife can come over, too. She can help."

He didn't get response for a while. He was hoping all of these technical things weren't weighing down on her too much. Making her think of what they were actually doing.

He got a response back. "For as much as a summer tour. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry. Have the housekeepers get his trunks out of storage. This is good direction. Thank you. I appreciate it."

He waited for her to type back. He regretted that she had, immediately.

"Suzanne spoke to Michael's publicist. It's going to get worse. He's going away from her advice. He's going to talk more."

Sam swore under his breath. This made Reiha turn to him and interrupt Randy. Sam waved her away and she nodded. He started typing back furiously.

"All of this will look bad in the divorce, especially since he's talking about the children. That's got to be child endangerment. You're doing the right thing, taking them away from this."

"Maybe I should just talk to my lawyer. Save them from having to go away. I'm breaking the law by taking them, too. This is such a mess. I don't know what to do."

"Talk to your lawyer while you're in Paris, where they're safe. Likely he can negotiate with the judge about visitation rights with this new evidence."

"I know you're right. I'm sorry, Sam."

"Don't be sorry. We'll all figure this out. You're not alone, and neither are the children."

"Thank you, Sam."

He didn't get any more texts after that. Likely she was calling her lawyer. Sam felt good about that. Instead, he focused on Randy and copied the breathing techniques that Reiha was ordering him to do. It made him feel better.