5. Prove You’re a Man #3
I exhale sharply, gripping the wheel a little too tight as the road blurs beneath the headlights, reflections bouncing off the railing. I blink, forcing the emotion back down.
I pull onto the bridge leading into town, the faint glow of city lights ahead. Tomorrow, I’ll be back in the studio, back at the barre, back in charge.
But tonight, I let myself feel it. The ache of what I’ve lost, the weight of what’s coming.
The brownstone is dark when I step inside, the only light is a faint orange glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. I kick off my shoes and hang my keys on the hook.
My townhouse is a modest one-bedroom tucked away on a quiet street.
Exposed brick lines one wall, softened by floating shelves crowded with worn books, framed photos, and trailing ivy that curls toward the floor.
A vintage record player sits on the console beneath the window, surrounded by my favorite jazz and Tchaikovsky vinyls.
Louie’s on the gray couch, curled up in the navy-knit blanket Mama made, unaware I’m home. I give him a few scratches behind the ears, and he perks up, jumping on me instantly. He may be a yorkie, but sometimes he has the strength of a German shepherd.
“Hey, Lou,” I greet in the silly baby voice he loves. “Wanna go for a walk?”
Louie bolts to his leash on the hook, nipping at it in excitement. Outside, he tugs me in the direction he wants to go, tail wagging furiously, when my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Kasper Pedersen
I answer, straightening slightly. “Hey, Kasper. Everything alright?”
There’s a pause on the other end, then a deep breath. “Nik, I need to tell you something. You remember Natalia, right? She works at MTB now, and I asked if she knew of an ‘Eleanor Montgomery’… and let’s just say she had something interesting to share.”
A cold tremor ripples through me. Natalia Romano. I didn’t realize she’s at the Metropolitan Theatre of Ballet now. She’s a seamstress whose opinion Kasper actually trusts and one of Mama’s first apprentices.
“She’s working at MTB now?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah. One of their seamstresses. She actually worked with Eleanor directly.”
Louie rolls around in a patch of grass nearby, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for whatever news Kasper has to share next.
“She said there were rumors surrounding Eleanor’s departure. Nothing confirmed, of course. Just whispers that she may have been involved with someone in leadership.”
My stomach sinks slightly. Not because I believe it, but because I know how fast stories like that spread.
“She said all of that?” I ask quietly, Louie tugging insistently at the leash, clearly wishing I’d pay attention to him instead of my spiraling thoughts.
“She was cautious,” Kasper replies. “Said Eleanor was talented, no doubt about that. But she left suddenly and quietly… with no recommendations.”
I don’t answer right away. Louie sniffs a flower bush, then sneezes so violently I almost laugh. The absurdity of it breaks the tension for a moment, though the knot in my stomach remains.
“Nik…” Kasper’s voice softens. “We can’t afford another fire. We just lost three dancers, and we need more to fill the corps. We need stability, not a scandal—especially one we don’t understand.”
“I know.” I sigh, tugging Louie gently away from a pile of dirt he’s claimed as his own.
Another long silence stretches between us.
“But I still want her to come,” I say finally, giving Louie a gentle nudge toward the grass. “She could be exactly what we need.”
“Even with that?” he asks, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
“Because of that.”
Kasper doesn’t respond, so I press on. “I know it sounds reckless. I know how it looks. But when I watched that reel… I felt like I was watching Daria.” I let out a slow breath, steadying myself. “It felt like God was nudging me, telling me she was the one.”
“God,” he echoes, not mockingly, just tired. “You’re sure?”
“I am.” I tug Louie along the sidewalk, the leash slacking between us as he growls at the fallen leaves.
I glance toward the streetlights, their amber glow pooling across the pavement.
“We’ve been looking for a dancer like her for years, Kasper.
I think we at least owe it to ourselves to let her audition. ”
There’s a pause on the line before he exhales, long and measured. “Alright. I’ll finalize her invitation.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I’ll take full responsibility. If anything comes up, it’s on me.”
“I know it is,” he replies. “And that’s why I’m trusting you.”
We hang up, and the night stills around me. No cars, no footsteps, just Louie’s soft panting. I stand there on the sidewalk, the phone heavy in my hand.
God, if I heard You wrong, stop me now, I pray silently. But if this is from You… if she’s meant to be part of this… then help me walk in obedience. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s hard.
A quiet steadiness washes over me. Enough to breathe again and to take the next step.
“Come on, Lou,” I murmur, giving the leash a small tug.
He trots beside me as we walk back toward the brownstone. The night is cool and clean, the weight on my shoulders just a little lighter than before.