The Dance of the Swans
The Dance of the Swans
After her brother's suicide Peyton, a ballerina, quickly puts back the pieces of her previous life but it all comes crashing down when her brother's best friend Ethan Cain begins to call in the early hours of the morning, drunk. His phone calls force her to continuously chase her brother's ghost searching for answers that are right in front of her.
Chapter One: Ce Jeu
It was silent and beautiful, the waves rolled in and out of kew beach somewhat ironically. It was a beach just on the outskirts of downtown Toronto, but if you looked straight ahead and not to the side to see the large cn tower, you could pretend that you were in Vancouver. Gulls squaked almost annoyingly, making a tune of their own. And there Peyton sat, sipping the hot coffee she had just gotten from Starbucks on Queen Street before making her way down here.
She had been sleeping, after a fitful night of tossing and turning, she had finally fallen asleep, and then the phone wrung, and her body instantly woke up. She had reached for the phone unconsciously she had answered it. Spoken an angry hello, waited for a moment, and then heard the other person hang up. Fortunately they hadn't called back, but she knew that after that there was no way she could fall back asleep.
So she had dragged her self out of bed, packed her bags for her ballet class which started at ten and now sat by the beach, waiting. For atleast another hour to pass before she got on the Queen street car to make her way into the downtown core. And then the giddying tune of California Girls blared from her cell phone, a morbid reminder of her brother who had picked the tune for her.
"What?" she stated picking up the phone.
"Such a gracious way to answer the phone Miss. Cooper." Scott Herron's distinguishingly arrogant voice came over the phone.
"What do you want Herron?" she asked almost angrily, she wasn't though, maybe only a little annoyed as she picked at the sand.
"Come in please." She cocked an eyebrow, confused at his odd statement.
"What do you mean?" she asked him.
"I mean now, there's some stuff I want to go over with you and since you've been away I'd like you to come in early." Peyton sighed and held her hand up to her forehead.
"This early Scott?" she asked sounding truly disappointed, and he could tell just by listening to her voice. She had used his firstname, and she rarely did, everyone else but her called him Scott, or Sir, or Mr. Herron. But the most he could get out of her was a Herron.
"Yes miss Cooper, this early." He told her hanging up. She starred at the beach. Waiting a moment before finally deciding to get up. She sipped on her coffee slowly as she walked away, she wasn't angry, she just didn't care, which was even worse.
When she had gotten to the studio Herron had told her to wait for a bit while he finished up and unexpected meeting. She didn't believe him, but sat there anyways, like the annoyed little dancer she was. He was speaking with Mrs. Rachel Weston, as the Weston's were one of the many donors who were funding Toronto's latest ballet company, which still didn't have a name. Peyton knew that there was no way a meeting like this could have come up out of the blue but she couldn't understand for the life of her why Herron would have wanted her to come in so early to just sit. Sure he was an evil and strict director who could often be a jackass, but he wasn't an inhumane dictator …at least not yet.
Girls began to file in around Nine, going to the change rooms and shooting Peyton odd glances, they didn't know what to do or how to comfort her, and odd fact for girls just graduating from being teens into adults. Peyton watched them go in and come out Albert another choreographer arrived and seemed to be setting up for class.
The door of Herron's office finally swung open and Mrs. Weston stepped out laughing. She touched Herron's chest which was covered by a loose black button down dress shirt that was professionally tucked into his black pants.
"Oh, Scott." The older woman cooed. "You are too funny, I shall see you at dinner then, yes?" Peyton felt like she was going to gag, no wonder Herron got so much funding, he was a total ladies man. The men probably couldn't hide the money from their wives who were so willing to throw it at Herron and his dancing troupe of little ballerinas.
"Of couse, I'll see you there." He told her and his gaze quickly shifted to Peyton who sat on the bench starring at him dead in the eye. His fake smile dropped for a moment and then returned. As he waved Mrs. Weston off. Peyton stood up and walked towards his door. And then entered, dropping her stuff to the floor, she slouched down into a chair opposite his desk. From there she could see the class outside begin to warm up with Albert.
A moment later he came into the office and pulled down the white blind, so that the class was no longer visible. The door slammed closed as well.
"Shouldn't you be out there?" he asked perching on the desk, he was still wearing his plastic smile and it pissed her off more than the bullshit pouring out of his mouth.
"Why the fuck was I here so fucking early?" she whispered at him angrily, leaning forward. His smile dropped again and his grey eyes grew cold, as they always did. He got off his desk and went around to sit in his large chair, his throne as her brother referred to it.
"I'd like to talk to you about what happened." He stated. She blinked oddly.
"with what?" she asked, looking confused. Herron squinted at her, unable to measure if she was being serious or not. And still he couldn't tell.
"with your brother, I understand it has been very hard on you."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" she looked very angry now, but Herron kept on going.
"And because of this great amount of stress I would prefer it if you helped out with the kids choreography instead of participating in our first ballet."
"No fucking way." She told him, her eyes grew huge.
"If you keep on swearing me like that I will have no choice but you fire you miss Cooper." She shook her head.
"No I've worked too goddamned hard for this Scott, for you to just take it away from me." He nodded, slowly, but she knew he wasn't even considering it, if Herron's mind was made up it was made up.
"I know how hard you've worked Peyton, I've seen you. But I really don't think this much pressure and stress is good for a person in your situation." She starred at the wall behind her head, he was right, it wasn't good, because she was slightly positive that if there was any other amount of stress being imposed on her she would explode like a shaken bottle of Jones. She sighed as the silence of understanding over took the room.
Nothing more really had to be said, but there was still a hollowness that needed to be filled, with something anything really. It was a hollowness that could only be filled momentarily, but Peyton needed that moment. At least for now.
"I should go," she told him. He nodded silently.
"But come back by four so you can practice. The studio will be empty." He told her. She nodded and left.
At four she was back and already beginning to practice alone with the music on. There was no one around, she was hardly doing ballet, it was everything at once exploding like a rhythmic expression of anger and hate and confusion. And she kept going as she felt the pain arise since she hadn't practised in weeks, but she kept going through the pain until she was numb and could hardly breathe right through the music like a self destructive child.
"Stop!" Scott yelled from his office, he had been standing there since her arrival, watching her from behind the blinds. Her dance had started off innocently enough but it had progressed into something that was so beautiful it became sick, disgusting and intolerable to know that she could drive her self to create something so amazing while at the same time throwing away her self.
She didn't stop, but that was no surprise. She kept going, as her body moved like a puppet on a string. Not even her brother had done anything like this, sure his dancing had become reckless nearing the end. But it was nothing in comparison to what Peyton was doing now.
"Stop!" he yelled again moving towards her, but she flittled away from him in a trance, as if he was a part of the dance and she was avoiding him.
"Peyton Cooper stop." He commanded, she didn't even look at him as he stalked angrily towards her reaching his arm out to grab her hand, it slipped away as she continued to move. It was scary because he could see what was happening right in front of his eyes but he was powerless to stop it.
"Peyton!" his voice boomed as he ran at her, pushing her against the one wall that wasn't mirror lined. He held her there like a struggling butterfly, she tried to shake him off and he used all of his force to keep her there. He had never known she was so strong. She thrashed inexplicably, her eyes shut, not making a single noise except groaning for him to let her go. But he wouldn't, he held her there partly to keep her from continuing the dance that was sure to end in her collapse but also because it comforted him to have her in his arms.
After what seemed like forever it stopped and he felt her go limp, but her eyes were still closed.
"Let go of me." She told him decisively.
"I wont." He breathed into her ear, "Until you tell me what that was." She opened her eyes. He was close, too close, she didn't want him this close, she didn't want anyone this close. She tried to push him away, but her strength was completely gone, and it only forced him to push into her more. "I cant let you do this to yourself." He whispered to her.
"You have no idea what the fuck I'm doing to myself." She told him looking straight into his worried eyes. He looked genuinely concerned, like everyone else he looked like he actually cared, like he actually wanted her to be ok. "Please let me go, I cant breathe" she told him. Of course she could, but when she took a breath all she could breathe in was him, and he was intoxicating and it would have been easier for her to use him to get out all of her frustrations, right at that very moment, on the dance floor, or in his office. But she preferred the pain that couldn't be reversed, the agony that could never become pleasure.
He took a step away from her, and she unexpectedly crumpled to the ground her limbs splayed out, as she slid further down, not caring. At all, she expected him to leave. She really did, he knew she would lock up, she had James' key afterall.
"Get up." He told her. She looked up at him angrily. "I have to go to a dinner with the Westons and other benefactors, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you out of my sight." He told her.
"Cant you just leave me with my father?" she asked from the floor, now starring at the ceiling.
"I'm not going to leave you with that man either, and I don't want to be liable for what happens to you if I do." He reached down and lifted her up off the ground like a doll. She watched him as he turned and made his way to the back door that lead to the costume storage, curiously she followed behind him, as he seemed to go about his business searching for something, suddenly he pulled out a flowy dress from last year's production of the nutcracker. It was nice, but it was so obviously a ballet costume.
"what do you have a better idea?" he asked looking at her face.
"Yeah leave me alone so you can go flirt with your beloved ancient aristocrat sugar mamas" he shook his head.
"I'm sorry my dear but that option isn't in the cards" he shoved the dress at her, and she slumped behind the barrier to put it on. A moment later she stepped out.
"You look beautiful." He told her. Seriously but she didn't take it that way. She looked down at the plum purple dress and scoffed.
"I'm all sweaty and nasty and I have no makeup." She told him.
"You smell fine, but you should do your makeup like you did for the show." He told her handing her a couple pallets. "But not too much. We'll say you're an example or something."
"We cant just say I'm your date?" he laughed.
"If we said that my sugar mamas wouldn't give me money, and then there really wouldn't be any ballet for you to dance in." But it wasn't a joke, it was serious and they both knew it, he had to keep up appearances, everything about his appeal was sexual. It oozed out of him, no one appreciated him for his dancing, not even his dancers. He was good looking and he could talk right, and that was all that mattered. The company had been founded because of his ability to seduce some of the richest women in the Aristocracy that existed in Toronto.
A few hours later, and they were comfortably seated at a table in the penthouse of the Four Seasons Hotel where Mr and Mrs Weston lived while their Bridle Path mansion was being rebuilt. Everyone chatted happily, calling Peyton a cute little doll and asking her questions about her schooling and interest in ballet. For a few hours she forgot about her brother and smiled giddily talking to people like a normal person. Like a person who's brother hadn't just killed himself. Who's father hadn't carried through with his marriage to his new wife only a week later. Like a girl who's life was perfect, who's life was just beginning, even though it felt like it was coming to an end.
Her phone wrung unexpectedly, she excused herself and headed to the terrace to answer it vaguely wondering if she'd get reception this high up.
"Hello?" she answered sounding happy.
"I'm sorry. Georgie I'm so sorry. You don't understand I didn't mean to. I didn't"
A drunk man drawled from the other end. And she knew exactly who it was, only one man called her that, because he was the only man besides her brother who knew that her middle name was Georgia.
"Ethan?" she asked.
"Georgie I didn't mean to. I didn't. I'm sorry. Its hard I know, and the baby. And the kiss. I mean I didn't. Georgie are you there? Georgie I love you? You know that. I did. I did." He continued inexplicably. Tears sprung to her eyes as he continued his blubbering monologue.
"I loved you, I loved him, I didn't mean to George, I don't want to hurt you George, I never wanted him to hurt you, I never wanted anyone to hurt you. And I'm hurting you aren't I? George. George I'm so lonely. I need someone. Georgie, I need you. Georgie you don't call… why don't you call? Georgie I didn't mean to, Please don't be mad. Georgie?" At that she hung up the phone, she couldn't bear it anymore, she understood half of what he said, but the other half flew over her head. Tears wracked her body as she shook gently remembering her brother and Ethan, together all three of them, when they were kids playing on the island where Ethan's family lived.
"Peyton." She heard Scott's calm voice from behind her. She didn't turn around but felt him come up to stand infront of her, he hugged her while she sobbed uncontrollably.
"It's going to be okay." He whispered, but as she looked over Scott's shoulder she saw him. The unexplainable. Standing there with his shaved black hair, in his yoga pants and grey t-shirt, shaking his head at her looking upset and then he walked away sadly his flip flops not making a sound. She had to mentally restrain herself from following him. Because she knew it wasn't him. It couldn't be him, if it was him, then it meant she was going crazy.
a/n: Hope you liked it!
I know its confusing but I was studying for an exam and it popped into my head and I had to get it out before proceeding to fail said exam. Anyways plz r&r as I am sure I will continue after I finish the exams
And I have new ideas for Doc Martens, My love so look forward to that in the future.
Reviews are always loved!
EVEN bad ones, there's only room for improvement