Prologue #2
As tempting as that sounds, I was over at Corinne’s home for Christmas the previous two years. Her parents are kind, but I still hate being the only non-family member present. Luckily, I’m saved from having to answer by two loud knocks on the door.
“It’s open,” I call out.
Julie, Artem’s assistant, pokes her head into the room. “Minerva. Corinne. Good, you’re both still here. Artem would like to see you two.”
Corinne and I hurriedly remove our feet from the buckets of ice, splashing a small amount of water onto the floor. When Artem requests a meeting with you, there isn’t any time to waste. He’s all business and expects a person to drop whatever they are doing to cater to him.
“We’ll be right there,” we both chirp.
“Great. He’ll see you first, Corinne, then you, Minerva. I’ll let him know you guys are on your way up.”
“I wonder what he wants.” I toss a towel to my best friend. “He’s usually out of here as soon as the curtain drops.”
“It is the end of the year, so maybe he’s giving out promotions!” Corinne’s eyes glaze over.
I know that she’s retreated into her head and is daydreaming about being promoted to soloist. Since the day we both received our first contracts with the Los Angeles Ballet Theatre three years ago, it’s been all Corinne has ever wanted. She’s a shoo-in to receive it too.
Corinne has that rare aura that captivates an audience from the moment she steps out onto the stage. But more than that, she’s one of the hardest-working people out there.
“Yeah, I bet that’s it.” I flash her a cheeky grin. “Just don’t forget about us little people when you move into your own big, shiny dressing room.”
“He wants to see you too, Min.” She slips on her flip-flops and hugs me tightly. “I bet that means you’re about to become a soloist too!”
The corners of my eyes crinkle. I wish I could share her enthusiasm. “Uh, yeah.”
She walks toward the door. “Meet you back here afterward?”
I nod. “Uh-huh. You’re my ride home.”
She chuckles, disappearing down the corridor. I exhale and take a few more moments to dry my feet. I want more than anything to be able to feel Corinne’s positivity, but all my muscles are tense. I feel like I’m a pirate who’s just been ordered to walk the plank.
Artem wanting to see me can’t be good news. I try and remember the last time he called me up to his office. My mind draws a blank. The only conversation of note that comes to mind is from the day he gave me a contract.
I swallow hard and ascend the last set of stairs to the administrative floor. Posters from the various productions LABT has staged over the years adorn the walls. The lights are all dimmed except for the set directly outside the artistic director’s office.
I hear a squeal and Corinne exclaiming, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I can’t wait to tell my family. This has to be the best early Christmas gift ever!”
“You’re welcome,” Artem says.
The door bolts open. Corinne gives me two big thumbs-up.
“Congratulations,” I manage, then give her a tight hug.
“Thanks! Now it’s your turn!”
I nod and watch as she skips out of sight. Closing my eyes, I take another big deep breath, then tap my knuckles against Artem’s door.
“Come in,” his deep voice beckons.
I square my shoulders and march inside with as much confidence as I can muster. I pretend I’m on stage, performing for an audience.
“Hi, Artem. You, um, wanted to see me?”
He gestures for me to have a seat in the black leather chair across from his desk. “Yes, I did.” He sits, and his cold steel eyes appraise me.
“Michelle, how many seasons have you been with LABT?”
“It’s Minerva, and three, sir.”
“Three? Hmm, I’m surprised it’s been that long.” He nods curtly, resting his hands on his desk. “Well, in any case, I’ll cut right to the chase.”
I sit taller in my seat, leaning forward.
“The recent formation of the Los Angeles City Ballet has caused LABT to be placed in a financially delicate position.” His lip curls. “Unfortunately, it’s fallen to me to ensure that the company is able to maintain the high-quality shows that our patrons are accustomed to.”
LABT being on the edge of bankruptcy is not exactly a state secret. When our star soloist, Clara Little, left the company two years ago, so did many of our donors. Then six months ago, LABT was placed in an even tougher position when the LA City Ballet opened its doors to the public.
I know they’ve been a thorn in Artem’s side.
Both companies are competing for the same audience members.
Plus, LA City Ballet has also been poaching some of the soloists and principals from LABT.
I can’t say I blame the dancers who have left.
I’ve heard LA City Ballet is offering double what Artem is.
“Mich—Minerva, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, especially during the holiday season, but LABT will be letting you go after the Nutcracker run.”
My throat goes dry. My pulse beats against my ribs as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “You’re firing me? But what about the apprentices you’ve just taken on and promoted to the corps?”
I’m taking a big gamble by assuming Sage and Viola have been promoted.
“This year’s apprentices are LABT’s future.
” The muscles in Artem’s forehead furrow into a deep V.
“Let’s face it, Mich—Minerva, you’ve gone as far as you can go in ballet.
You have weak turnout and poor extensions.
You’ve had every opportunity to show me and the rest of my staff what you’re capable of.
Yet all we’ve seen is mediocre dancing.”
“I don’t understand.” My voice is cracking.
“I should’ve done the right thing by you and let you go last season; it wasn’t fair for me to get your hopes up that you’d have a future here.”
My heart is shattering. Being a professional ballerina has been a lifelong dream. Artem has never viewed me as having a future here? “Then why did you even hire me?”
“I needed an extra body for Nutcracker. You are the right height for a snowflake.”
“But I’ve been here three years, why didn’t you say anything?” The corners of my eyes grow moist. The walls are closing in around me. My chest grows tight. I’ve heard enough.
He shrugs. “You’ll receive your final check the week after New Year’s.”
With a wave of a hand, I’m dismissed. It’s like I’m a piece of nasty gum that’s stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Fat, salty tears fall down my cheeks as I seek sanctuary in the dressing room.
Corinne’s exuberant smile is immediately replaced by a look of deep concern. “What happened?”
I can’t hold anything back. “He fired me.”
“Oh, Minerva, I’m so sorry.” She envelops me in a tight hug and gently rocks me back and forth, running circles on my back. “Artem is an idiot. I’m going to go in there and give him a piece of my mind.”
“No, Corinne, you can’t.” I stiffen and pull back. “I don’t want you to lose your promotion.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes flash dangerously.
“Yes, you do, being a soloist is your dream.”
“So? It’s no good if it comes at the price of losing you. I want us to be together. I’ll give it all up if it means you’ll be here with me.”
I shake my head. “Artem is pigheaded. He won’t change his mind. You and I both know that.”
She stares at me, biting her lip. I know she wants to argue with me, but she knows I’m right. “Then I’ll quit and we’ll both look for a new company.”
“No. You’ll hate me forever if you quit.”
She plants her hands on her hip. “I’d never do that.”
“You say that now, but trust me, you would.” I’m trying hard to keep the waterworks at bay and to be rational, but my composure is slipping.
Corinne sizes me up. Her facial features soften, and her arms wrap around me again.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. This place is full of bad juju right now.
I have a pint of key lime pie ice cream in my freezer with your name on it.
We’ll go to my place, put on The Devil Wears Prada, and have a girls’ night in, just like we used to when we were students at the academy. ”
I manage a nod. I’m numb and I can’t think straight. In my heart of hearts, I know there are way more ballerinas out there than companies have positions for. If a smaller regional company like LABT doesn’t want me, then who will? My dance career as I know it is over.