Fallen Stars and Broken Dreams (Rising from Ruin Book 1) Page 3

  I lost myself in the regal persona of the princess and the upbeat melody. The role I was dancing was challenging because it required rapid pirouettes and precise footwork that pushed me to excel. I gave myself completely to the performance, and my heart soared as I flew over the stage. Towards the end of our performance, Ryan and I came together for the most difficult part: a series of fleet footwork that we had to do in perfect unison. It was a true test of technical mastery and our ability to work as a pair.

  Ryan and I made our final leap into the wings off the stage, and he crushed me in a hug the moment we were behind the curtain.

  “We killed it!” he whisper-yelled at me.

  I could hear the thunderous applause of the audience as one of our instructors waved us back towards the stage. Ryan and I went back out, hand in hand, and I was amazed by the reaction of the crowd, many of them were even standing. I performed a grand reverence out of appreciation for the crowd, and the applause almost doubled.

  The clapping started to die down after Ryan bowed, so we took the opportunity to exit the stage once again. I grabbed his hand and tugged him to the back stairs, and pasted a huge grin on my face. I knew I should be feeling ecstatic in this moment, but all I felt was emptiness because my babushka wasn’t here to see me triumph. There was no way I could ruin the moment for Ryan, so I tried to match my outward enthusiasm to his.

  “We made it through another year! We’re going to celebrate tonight with something deliciously fattening.”

  He nodded, so he must have been so relieved to have gotten through our performance without disaster that he didn’t pick up on the hollowness of my words. After we went backstage to stretch and do our cool-down, he was distracted by our classmates giving congratulations and blowing off steam. I stayed alone in the corner, stretching in silence.

  “Katya!” my pointe teacher called to me from across the room. “Excellent work, you completely stole the show!”

  “Thank you, Miss White,” I said politely.

  Rachael and Jenna shot me dirty looks when Miss White turned her attention to the ballerina going on stage next. They didn’t go out of their way to be mean to me, but they made it clear that I didn’t fit in with their clique. I didn’t have a constant supply of new and stylish leotards that cost hundreds of dollars. I wore the same plain, economical ones until they wore out – a ballerina fashion faux pas. I was lucky to have Ryan as my best friend.

  “What about me?” Ryan muttered under his breath after he was sure no one else was listening.

  “I’m nothing without you,” I assured him. “You just made me look really good, that’s all.”

  Ryan shook his head and went back to stretching, but the mood between us had soured. Ryan had worked so hard to prepare for this performance, and it was unfair for Miss White to compliment me and not him. Ryan and I were a team, and he deserved just as much recognition as I did.

  Chapter 4

  Maverik

  I shifted in the uncomfortably small seat I forced myself into. The auditorium must have been built in the early 1900s, because these chairs hadn’t been designed to accommodate hockey players over six feet tall. I glanced at my phone to check the time.

  Fuck.

  We’ve been here for over an hour. How much longer was this shit going to last?

  Watching a ballet would have been bad enough, but watching a random collection of performances by ballet students still in training?

  Torture.

  The only thing that made this remotely entertaining was the three bitchy middle-aged women in front of me. They definitely belonged on a reality show about psychotic dance moms - not that I’d ever watch it.

  “Karen better wake up and realize that her daughter is never going to make it with that short neck and giant head,” the nasally one sniffed.

  The other two tittered. “At least her kid still has time to lengthen out,” the one with blond helmet-hair laughed. “Did you see Jessica’s tiny little angel has sprouted tits and an ass?”

  “Yeah,” the third one snickered. “Her career is over before it even started. I hope she has a plan B if she doesn’t want to end up as a stripper.”

  “Well, Jessica probably should have been more careful about feeding her. I had a fit when I heard she suggested tacos for the end of year party. And she looked clueless when I told her that if the girls ate beef at all, it would have to be organic, grass-fed, and hormone-free.”

  The other women gasped in horror. Were these bitches serious? They were talking about little girls, for fuck’s sake.

  All three of them paused in their critique as the stage darkened, signaling that the current performance was over. I knew it was too much to hope for that this show was over completely, because the girl we were waiting to see still hadn’t made an appearance.

  I glanced to my right to see that my dad was typing on his phone, but at least he kept it shadowed beneath his coat, so the light didn’t distract the rest of the audience. It was a very rare occasion that Richard Wilder would take a break from work. Meeting his fiancé’s long lost sister clearly didn’t make the cut.

  Nina was staring at the stage with a blank look on her face. That didn’t surprise me. I noticed she had a pill-popping habit, and she’d probably taken some shit to make it through this.

  I hadn’t seen it coming when my father proposed to the model – I thought Nina was just temporary insanity that my dad indulged because of a midlife crisis or something. I completely ignored her until the day my father decided she would become a part of our family. That was the day I knew she had to go.

  My brother had dozed off as soon as they dimmed the lights, with his head leaning back and mouth partly open. King looked ridiculous like that – I was doing him a favor by waking him. I gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs, and he jerked awake.

  “Asshole,” he muttered as he sat up straight.

  “If I have to suffer through this, then so do you,” I shot back at him.

  Music started up, and I reluctantly turned my attention back to the show. Two dancers, a male and female, had taken the stage.

  “That’s the Russian girl,” helmet-hair murmured to her friends. “I’m surprised she’s doing another year here instead of getting an apprenticeship.”

  The crowd gasped and burst into applause as the ballerina flew across the stage.

  “Did you see her form in that Grand Jeté? I wish Rachael could get lift like that and still hold her form,” dance mom three grumbled.

  “It’s really not fair that’s she still in this school,” big nose griped. “She should move on already.”

  Light and graceful, the ballerina did a series of spins before being caught by the male dancer.

  “Did you hear she moved in with the Logans?” Helmet hair gossiped. “She had no one else to take her in after her grandmother died, no family or anything. I heard both her parents died when she was a baby.”

  I leaned forward a little when I realized this might be the girl who was responsible for me being forced into a tux tonight. Nina told us that this chick was her sister, but these ladies talked about her grandmother - not her mother.

  Nina had lied yet again. Shocking. Faking her death was a higher level of subterfuge than I’d expected from her, though. If she hadn’t abandoned her own child, I’d almost be impressed.

  Initial background checks hadn’t shown anything interesting about Nina other than a habit of making late or incomplete payments on her credit cards. That was almost expected of a gold digger, though. What surprised both me and my father was what we found when we went searching in Nina’s past. We located the mother she won legal emancipation from in New York City – Nina had claimed her mother was dead. Our security team noted a teenage girl living there with her, but I had accepted her tearful confession of a sister without blinking. After all, Nina was thirty-two. Who would expect her to have a teenage daughter?

  The three women made fake noises of sympathy about the grandmother’s death before the crowd gas
ped again. This time it was over how the male held the ballerina up in the air with one hand as she gracefully demonstrated her flexibility and balance by doing some kind of rotating split thing that was actually kind of hot.

  “The only reason they would have agreed to take her is because of her influence over Ryan,” Big Nose whispered. “I heard that the Russian grandmother would lock them in a room and wouldn’t let them do anything but dance for hours, even after they’ve been in school all day.”

  “Well, why do you think so many of the best ballerinas in the world have been Russian?” Helmet Hair griped.

  “Rachel told me that the girl is weird and doesn’t even watch TV,” the third one criticized.

  “Well, obviously, I want Jenna to have a career, but I also want her to experience life,” Helmet Hair sniffed. “This girl’s going to end up having a Black Swan level breakdown, mark my words.”

  The male dancer had a moment to dance on his own while the ballerina held still, but my eyes were still on her lithe form. Her hair was wrapped tightly in a bun with some kind of flowery thing covering it, but it looked like it might be a light brown or dark blonde color.

  “I don’t think the Russian girl is going to be able to do much more for Ryan,” Big Nose tittered. “He’s not getting the height he needs on those jumps, and I haven’t seen him do anything impressive yet.”

  “True, but there are so few male dancers, I’m sure he’ll find a place in a company somewhere doing corps work.” All three of them chuckled meanly, and I rolled my eyes.

  I was far from being an expert on any type of dance, let alone ballet, but even to my untrained eye, it was clear that the female had something extra that the other students lacked. She flowed gracefully with the music and drew your eye, even though she was sharing the stage with another dancer. She flew higher than the others, and her body bent even more dramatically in ways that I wasn’t aware a human body could.

  There was thunderous applause once the couple finished their dance, and a large number of the audience stood when they moved to the front of the stage for a bow. I leaned past my brother so I could see my dad.

  “King and I are stepping out for a minute now that we’ve seen the girl.”

  My dad looked over at me in surprise. “That was her? Glad I paid attention to that one.”

  Nina woke up from her trance. “I would have been so disappointed in you if you missed her.”

  I snorted, doubtful that she had even bothered to watch her sister, or daughter, or whatever this girl was. Nina obviously didn’t give two shits about her.

  I had no idea what my father saw in Nina. Years passed after the accident that took our mother, and he’d never brought another woman home – until Nina. Hell, he had barely bothered to come home himself.

  Initially, I thought Nina was just a passing phase for him, or maybe a midlife crisis, but I was shocked when he proposed to her several months ago. Nina might be beautiful on the outside, but she was rotten to the core. She was selfish, spoiled, materialistic, and an obvious gold digger. I had no idea why my father would date her. At least he was insisting that the engagement stay a secret for now. We still had time to get rid of her before she got too strong of a foothold into our family.

  King followed me out of the auditorium, and once we got to the lobby, I stretched my back gratefully.

  “Fuck,” Kingston said as he stretched his arms. “How much longer is this going to take? I have a hot blond with giant tits waiting at the hotel bar for me to get back.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m more worried about how we’re going to derail this marriage.”

  “Why bother?” Kingston shrugged. “Dad will have her sign a prenup - he’s not stupid. And you know we won’t see much of either of them after they’re married.” Kingston pretended to be casual, but I could feel the anger and bitterness beneath his words.

  I leaned up against the wall. “You don’t think this is going a little too far? How many long-lost family members are we going to have to take in? We don’t run a halfway house. And I’m still not convinced this isn’t a con of some kind.”

  “Who said we’re taking the ballerina?” Kingston asked with a frown. “I thought we just had to meet her.”

  I couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Did you miss the part where her grandmother died, and she’s a poor little orphan, all alone in the world?”

  Kingston narrowed his eyes. “Grandmother? Nina told us it was their mother? And she’s living with guardians or something?”

  “Nina’s a liar - there no way that girl is her sister. She’s been hiding a secret daughter from the world and tried to lie to Dad to cover it up. Plus, the ballerina is living with her boyfriend’s parents. Do you not see how this is all adding up to be a perfect setup? She’s going to try and con dad out of as much as she can.”

  Kingston’s eyes sparked with menace when he caught up to what I was saying. “Nina or the ballerina?”

  “Both,” I said calmly. “But we aren’t going to let either of them get away with it.”

  Chapter 5

  Katya

  After the final curtain, Ryan and I went out into the audience to find his parents. They both met us with polite smiles, and Mrs. Logan handed me a bouquet of roses.

  “Where’s mine?” Ryan demanded jokingly. Mr. Logan grimaced instead of smiling. Mrs. Logan tried to make up for it with a fake laugh, but tension strained between all of us.

  I handed the bouquet off to Ryan with a smirk, trying to bolster our fake levity. This was supposed to be the happiest moment of the year, and I didn’t want to bring the mood down even further.

  “Be a good partner and hold this for me so I can hug your parents?” I teased him.

  Ryan laughed with a stressed look around his eyes, but he took the flowers. I inhaled the sweet scent of Mrs. Logan’s perfume as she embraced me, and I tried to ignore the ache in my heart. This was the first year that Babulya hadn’t been in the audience waiting to hand me flowers and give me a list of critiques. I appreciated Mrs. Logan’s effort to make this feel as normal as possible, but it was almost more painful to have someone else hand me flowers that should have been from Babulya.

  My babushka had grown up with parents who adored the Bolshoi Ballet and instilled her with a deep respect for the art. She got a fierce sense of pride when she saw me on stage and structured her life around helping me to succeed in ballet. She hadn’t just encouraged me to dance at a young age; she had pushed me to excel and had been strict with the grueling practice schedule she had set for me.

  I was lucky enough to be born with the ideal “ballet body,” which was long legs, a shorter torso, and a slender frame, but it was the endless hours of practice in and out of the studio that had given me the necessary tools to get this far.

  I pulled away from Mrs. Logan and gave Mr. Logan an awkward half-hug. Where Mrs. Logan would sometimes play the part of a loving mother, Mr. Logan was uncomfortable with any emotional display. He preferred to remain stoic and unflappable at all times. And that was before his relationship with Ryan had been shattered. Things were even worse now. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Logan moved to embrace their son.

  After I stepped back from Mr. Logan’s fake hug, I felt someone’s heavy gaze on me. I glanced around the crowded auditorium, filled with parents congratulating their kids, and noticed two guys who were out of place. They were both dressed up a little too much – tuxes instead of suits, but it was more than their age and good looks that make them stand out. If they were a classmate’s brothers, I would have seen them before now; our school was small, and families came to many of our events.

  At first glance, they could have been just another part of the small group of wealthy patrons that kept our school endowment flush with cash, but when I looked closer, I realized that they didn’t fit the type. These guys were dressed well and obviously had money, but there was a roughness to them that our patrons didn’t have. They had swagger and attitude, and they lacked the softness that the overprivileged b
allet crowd usually had.

  The one with the dark hair captured my attention completely. Even though I was standing a distance away, I could feel raw intensity radiating from him as I met a pair of stormy gray eyes. My heart rate sped up when our gazes connected, and it shattered the careful veil of numbness I had been hiding under. It was invasive and irritating, so I narrowed my eyes at him and gave him my best fuck off face.

  While the dark-haired guy was scowling over at me, the one with sandy blond hair looked amused by a joke made at my expense. I didn’t care to know why they were staring, so I turned away from them. Ryan and I were still wearing our costumes from the final curtain call, and my tutu poked out awkwardly, leaving most of my legs bare. I didn’t mind while I was dancing, but it was unpleasant to be standing still in a cold auditorium after I’ve already done my cool-down and stretches. I had a chill running up my spine that didn’t want to go away. Or maybe it was because I could still feel the unwelcome stares of the hot guys on my back.

  Ryan started to excuse us so that we could change, but his eyes widened when he caught sight of something behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to see who it was, because I could feel the weight of eyes on my back. Awareness tingled up my spine, and I pushed away the butterflies that just decided to take flight in my stomach. There was nothing special about these guys, and I’d never see them again after today.

  I gave an annoyed sigh and then turned to face the two handsome problems, just as I suspected. I didn’t like that they had sought me out in the crowd, and I hated that my skin heated at the mere proximity of my dark-haired stalker. Yeah, he was hot, but he clearly wasn’t someone I wanted to get to know.

  They were both tall with broad shoulders, but the blond was slightly leaner. He had the sharp cheekbones and square jaw of a male model, and his confidence said that he knew how good-looking he was. He would have been the most attractive guy in the room if it weren’t for his dark-haired companion. This guy resembled a fallen angel with his dark hair and perfect features. He had a strong, chiseled jaw and full lips, but it was his eyes that made me unable to look away. They were a gray that reminded me of gathering storm clouds above a tumultuous sea as a hurricane rolled into shore.