The Black Swan | Reposted

Chapter 16 - Arguments

I was starting to view Harry as a performance. I was starting to see that we had to act all of the time we were together, I had to fake that I liked him. It was the only way out of this, that's what I was seeing. If I wanted to my job, I had to fake it till I made it. I pretend he was someone else, or pretend he had a weird blue dot on his face to distract me, anything. I just had to strip away the whole reality of the situation.

"Up, up, up," Vincent shouted.

I was sweating, having been dancing for hours on end. Harry was in fitted shorts to allow him to move, his tattooed body close and dripping in sweat too. He had his hair pulled back in a ponytail, a very intense look on his face.

"This is the most important duet between the two of you! You are feeling longing, Harry you know you are responsible for her poor heart giving out. You are mourning the love lost. You follow her steps with passion in your eyes, you look dead. Let's go, again,"

We drew heavy breaths and began all over again. It was a lot of rushing about; it wasn't too complex chorography wise. It was just draining to do it again, and again, and again.

"Embrace her spirit," he shouted at him. "Lift," he called as I stepped to Harry and his hands went to my hips, lifting me up over his head with complete ease, my toes pointed upward, arms cradled. He lowered me after taking a step back; our bodies close as I broke away and stepped around him. We move around and again he lifted my body, he let me down again and my hands outlined his face, nearly caressing his cheek as I moved, feeling his eyes on me.

"The count is off, you leap together! Together! You have got to sync up!" He slapped the clipboard in his hand to the ground. "This is not a separate performance you are one. You are lovers, you are one being. Ah, enough, enough. I can't deal with this. Just go, done for the day, come back with chemistry!" He yelled and stormed out. We both sat on the ground, panting and laid back.

"Fuck," I heard him mumble.

"We're going to suck so hard, aren't we?"

"I'm not."

"I'm sorry, are you forgetting all that barking he did was mostly aimed at you here?" I sat up. "Are you that stubborn that you can't take direction and admit it, we have to get along well for this to work?"

"I don't know how not to hate you." he muttered.

I gaped, blinking as I sat up and stared at him. "Man the heck up and get the idea of whatever type of girl you think I am, out of your head. Walk out that door and back in, and start with a clean slate, forget I'm a Ricci, I'm a Graff too."

"A Graff?"

"That's was my dad's name, he was a composer."

"Was?"

"He died."

"Oh," I nodded at him, feeling a bit sad. "Mine's been dead for a while."

"Sorry."

"I don't really give a damn if I'm being truthful."

"Shocking," I breathed out. "You clearly hate me because I'm a Ricci, fine, whatever, but can't we try this again with you only knowing I'm Odette Graff? Can't we fake it?"

He smirked and got up. "Girls don't fake it on me Odette."

I rolled my eyes. "Ew." He laughed to himself and started to stretch, I could see his tattooed back flex. "Why do you have so many tattoos?"

"None of your business."

I huffed and got up, started running my own entrance for one of the scenes. I kept going and going, feeling his eyes on me. It made me nervous for whatever reason.

"Dot," I heard Liam's voice, making me stop and take a ragged breath. "Are you coming?"

"I really, really need to work on this for the show."

"All right," he came over, his hand on my waist. He gave me a sweet kiss. "Don't work too hard now."

"I won't," I smiled and gave him one more kiss. He walked out and I spun around a bit.

"Wow, bravo, what a love story."

"Excuse me?"

"You're dating him, you guys had more chemistry auditioning together before you started fucking him."

I froze, shocked. "Are you serious, did... did that actually come out of your mouth?"

"Did I stutter?"

"First off, we have great chemistry, Liam is a wonderful boyfriend. Second, I'm not fucking him."

"Oh gross you're one of those, make love bull shit girls, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not sleeping with anyone, not that it's any of your business."

"Not sleeping with the director?"

"Shut up! Why are you picking on me?"

"I fucking hate stuck up, self centered Ricci women. You do whatever you can to get what you want, that's what your families legacy is."

"No, the woman in my family's legacy is talent, beautiful ballerinas and success. You're some bratty little jerk who thinks he's a gift to dance and has some grudge against me because of his mommy. Back off. It's over! Our moms don't even remember each other, fucking call your mom and bring her here and I will have them talk. I'll do anything if it gets you to stop attacking me."

He huffed over and grabbed his duffle bag, starting out the door. His jaw was held so tightly, the way his back was held was rigid and broad. I saw every muscle just change, locking so stiffly.

"Go to the fucking cemetery if you want to talk to my mother." He slammed the door so loud I think it shook the windows.

His mom was dead? Was that why he was so touchy about it? He felt bitter? I was so confused. Maybe this wasn't about some weird grudge, maybe it was about the simple fact that I had my mom, and he didn't have anyone.