Chapter Two

The jaunty piano tune filled the room and the corridors beyond. The only sound louder was that of Karl's voice, bellowing the normal exercise routine.

"Keep your back straight and watch the turn-out!" He banged his cane on the floor, glaring in one unfortunate's girl's direction. "Five plies in each position. Keep it graceful. You're dancers and not ducks! I won't have you clumping about like some of the opera singers!"

Noelle sighed as he sank down into the first of many plies. He could count the number of times Karl gave compliments on one hand. Far less often than the snap of the cane against the back of the legs. That happened so often that most of them were immune to the sting.

Karl strode about the room like a sergeant-major. His eyes were everywhere. He paused by Noelle and roughly adjusted his hip.

"Turn-out, boy. From the hips, not the feet!"

Noelle bit his lip. His turn-out was from his hip. His foot had simply slipped. But Karl was an expert at making one feel awful and bringing unwanted smirks.

Already, the woman opposite was sneering. 

He tossed his head and adjusted his position, trying to ignore the others about him and concentrate on his own work. His shoes were new and the soles were likely to slip but he wouldn't allow Karl to pull him out on it again.

From across the room, another male dancer smiled sympathetically. Only slightly better than a sneer.

Alexandre Desrosiers was one of the male names a few balletgoers would recall. A talented man who was able to make the woman look better than she was.

But he was also a jealous man and disliked others getting ahead. Noelle was but one but he was bittersweet, his looks appealed to the blonde a great deal but he couldn't mix career and relationships.

And God forbid if someone found out his interests were lured by both men and women. 

As the class ended and the women left for the second studio to work on their pointe work and other movements the men were exempt from, he wandered over.

"Maybe practice after hours?" He suggested, flicking his auburn hair with a bright smile. "Technically it isn't allowed but I see no harm. They hardly care what we do. Your body tells you when you are in the wrong position and you can often improve vastly. How do you think I did it?"

"It might be a good idea," Noelle eyed him carefully, searching for any sign of deception. Seeing none, he relaxed. Apparently, it was advice and not a ruse to ruin him. "I daresay Karl will be quick enough to whip me back into line if I make any errors."

"I daresay." Alexandre gave a snort and started back to his normal place. "He's not shy of that when he thinks you have some potential."

Noelle smiled but fell into silence, his mind focused on the here and now. He wasn't that fond of Alexandre. He was too cocky, too full of himself. He had never liked that about him or anyone in the company but on a working basis he ignored it. 

It was like ignoring a mother tiger when entering its lair but in the theatre, one didn't have an option. You could die facing the beast or die without trying.

'It was decent advice,' he mused as he sank into the repetitive exercises. 'At least when I'm I can lose myself. I don't have to worry about caustic remarks. Or Karl's indifference. The stage belongs to me and I mean to make it mine in time.'

He could almost hear the orchestra, echoing and empowering in his mind. The painstaking work of long-gone composers who could never have envisaged that the result of their years of toil would still be played so long after their death.

And it was due to the skills of people like himself that kept them alive and he would not let them down. 

---

The day passed with little excitement. 

Much of it was spent watching the rehearsal of the principal dancers or stuck in the studio going over the group steps. 

Noelle couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Any chance to perform on the stage was a blessing and only added to the experience. But the ambition he had made it almost painful at times. He craved the limelight, the chance to play both Prince and Pauper. The roles that brought him closer to the Gods.

Alexandre was superb. There was no doubt that. But Noelle knew that he too could bring life to those characters and put his personal touch on them. Make them his own and be the talk of the city. 

His lack of confidence held him back. It caused foolish errors and stopped him from pushing himself forward like Alexandre was able to. He had the spark. He needed to kindle it. 

He lingered in the dressing room as the others slowly departed, waiting for them to leave the building before he dared sneak back to the stage. 

No one patrolled the theatre at night and as long as he informed someone he was there, it was hardly going to be a problem.

It was a different world at night. Silent as the grave and seeming more austere and formidable. Unwelcoming even as the shadows spread and the grandness faded to a grim gloom. 

He finished stretching, the music of the night's performance ringing in his ears long after the musicians had ceased and the audience had left. 

His muscles grumbled as he lowered his leg and forced them to walk down towards the stage but they were soon given a moment of relief as the doleful sound of a lone violin reached him. Followed by the coldest chill he had felt since the winter.

"H-hello?" He dared to call out, fearing his voice would not carry and partly hoping it wouldn't, "Who's... who's there?"

He pushed himself forward and mounted the stairs to the stage, staring into the darkness and could barely make out a slender, dark form, half-hidden by shadows, perched gracefully on the edge.

The music was so beautiful, like nothing he'd ever heard before. Truly from the imagination of a master. And the skill the figure had with the bow was unlike any he'd seen from the string section.

Surely, no ghost could play like that?

---

Julian had been quiet during the daylight hours. Listening to the rehearsals that went on above, the sound so loud it penetrated down below and lightly touched his ears.

He stroked the strings of his cherished violin gently as he sat, his mind mulling over tunes and symphonies that he composed in his dreams.

Even without a clock, he could tell the time from the noise above and of course the sound of the great bells that chimed the hour from the churches to call pious souls to worship or merely remind them of the hour.

When they rang to indicate the sun had faded he made his way up to the familiar, musty stalls where those with limited funds would often sit.

With the house empty he was feeling somewhat more daring than normal.

Slowly Julian began playing a mournful tune. Seeing his composition in his mind and watched by an audience of ghosts of artists long passed.

And of course, the rats who always lingered and one or two would often follow, sitting nearby and listening curiously.

He hadn't noticed the presence of another, a strange failing on his part but no one was ever here this late.

 

The voice jarred him, cutting through his concentration like a knife through flesh. His bow ceased its movement and he looked towards the stage, seeing the outline of a figure. Carefully he stood, his deep blue eyes swiftly adjusting to the darkness around him.

The man was handsome and had a presence on stage even with his nervousness. It reminded him of the young dancers in his mother's company.

He hesitated before he responded. He had never replied to any before, although now he thought of it he had seldom had any opportunity. But this one had something about him. A soul was trapped in his body and unable to find its wings.

"I assumed I was the only one here at this time of the evening," even his voice was musical, soft and flowing like the notes he played. He perched against the nearest seat in an effort to appear more relaxed, even though his muscles were poised to escape should the other concern him.

 

Noelle inched forward, drawn by the startling lilac eyes and hungry to hear more of the music that had caught his attention.

 

"I...I'm a dancer. I was trying to inspire myself," he whispered stupidly. Those eyes made him feel so small as if he was being drawn into a vast void. "I didn't expect there to be anyone else here. I'm sorry I disturbed you." A laugh forced from his throat. It felt as if it had closed with his unease and the sound opened it slightly. "I almost feared you were a spirit."

 

Julian's lips curved in a lop-sided smile. "I have been called worse." 

 

Noelle shook his head, trying to break the enchantment as the man studied him. "I won't stop you from playing." He told him. "You can play and I can practice if you don't mind." He told him. "Hopefully my being here won't disturb you too much." He traced the boards carefully. "Do you work here?"

 

Julian remained silent for some time, trying to read the other. Distrustful by nature.

His eyes travelled over the young male, his expression remaining unreadable as if he was viewing a moderately impressive piece of art.

"No. I don't work here," he said eventually, stroking the violin absently. "My mother used to so I practically grew up here. You could say I make it my home of an evening." Slowly he took up the bow again, resting the elegant instrument on his shoulder. "My mother was a dancer," he continued, keeping his eyes on Noelle "so I know a thing or two about it."

He ran the bow over the strings, allowing a long, fluid note to echo in the empty auditorium. Satisfied by the tuning he slowly began to play a gentle and relaxed waltz, one he knew the male should recognize.

The music came easily from memory, he barely seemed to think about it as he played.

"People compared me to Paganini on more than one occasion," he said evenly "The devil's violinist..." He chuckled at the memory before his focus drifted back, looking down at the feet of the other. "Your turnout needs some work."

 

Noelle felt himself wilt again, looking peevishly down at his feet. "I know. I was hoping being alone with the music in my mind would help my body figure it out. The ballet master's cane doesn't do much except bruise both skin and ego."

 

And sting one's spirit. 

 

"I'm no teacher," Julian said calmly "but I've watched enough and from my mother, I know how things ought to be done and how they ought to look. I've watched a lot from here also, sadly I've seen very few lead dancers who have impressed me much. You, however..."

He let his words trail off and he ran his bow over the strings.

 

"Listen to the music. Let the notes sink into your body and soul. They will merge, waltz together and you will know what to do..."

 

Noelle opened his mouth to question the strange words but the music quelled any query. The notes seemed to enfold him and seep into every pore in his body. He closed his eyes, allowing his body to move freely, his muscles working on their accord, relaxed and instinctively knowing where to set themselves.

 

He barely even knew he was dancing.