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vexedtonightmares · 5 years ago

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last dance (elu ballet au) chapter seize

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x. xi. xii. xiii. xiv. xv. xvi.

ao3

**tw: mentions of eating disorder and bipolar disorder**

Dimanche 12:44

They were a week out from the show, which meant everyone was in a frenzy. The studios had been booked all day and people came and went as they pleased to practice, everyone a little bit more sluggish than usual on account of the late night they’d all ended up having.

After Eliott and Lucas’ show, their whole year stayed in the auditorium all night under the guise of cleaning it up, but they were really just enjoying one another’s company. There weren’t going to be many more nights like this, so they had to take advantage while they still could. The silly string actually smelled quite bad, but Lucas didn’t think any of them had cared much about it, too lost in the moment and each other to think about anything other than their happiness. It was so beautiful to experience, being in a group like this one. Sure, some of them were better friends with each other than others were, but that night they’d all been one unit built through sweat, strength, blood, broken nails, and more than a few tears.

Lucas was still finding silly string buried in his hair when he ran his hands through it as he practiced, and even though it was kind of gross, he couldn’t help but smile.

He and Eliott were switching off rehearsing with Manon and Imane, both of whom chided them multiple times for not paying enough attention to their partners and too much attention to each other. Thankfully, Lucas had already gotten a fair amount of practice with Manon, so they looked to be in good shape for the weekend. Imane and Eliott hadn’t had as much time to work through the choreography together, but it didn’t seem likely that the two of them would have to perform together on stage, so they weren’t worried.

They had yet to run through the entire ballet in full costume onstage, and Lucas couldn’t have been more excited to start dress rehearsals. They wouldn’t start until the next morning since the show was beginning on Friday, and Lucas hoped that nothing would go wrong, but he didn’t want to jinx it. There was still a lot to be done, and so much that could go wrong, but they were so close.

It was quite surreal that it was finally happening. It seemed like just yesterday he’d come back to school with Manon, marvelling at the year ahead. At the same time, it seemed stupid that at that point he’d been so overcome with blind hatred he’d thought he wouldn’t survive the year sharing a room with Eliott. Now he couldn’t imagine surviving without him.

Eliott flashed him a smile just meant for the two of them, like a secret they shared, and Lucas dropped his head to hide his own grin. One of the best things about falling in love was the secret language that came with it, the one neither person had to learn but already knew by heart. It was a good thing he would never have to live without Eliott.

“I love you,” he mouthed across the room, because he was sappy and he could. If Eliott was the sun, then he was Icarus, flying, falling, but ever in love with its golden rays and the warmth it brought into his life.

Imane snapped in front of his face and he realized he’d probably been staring too long with a dopey expression on his face. The blush that always adorned his cheeks around Eliott deepened, even as Eliott mouthed the words back to him behind Imane.

“I swear, if I’d known you were going to be this insufferable in love, I never would have wished for it for my birthday,” Manon teased, ruffling his hair.

“Shut up,” he groaned, leaning out of her reach, then paused. “Wait… you’re joking, right?”

She raised one eyebrow, turning back to face the mirror with a smirk on her face. She was such a shit, but he supposed he couldn’t complain because the two of them were cut from the same cloth. He pretended not to notice Imane rolling her eyes at all three of them. He knew it was in jest anyways, he knew that Imane liked him a whole lot more than she pretended to.

And, thinking of her, he had to get all the information out of her about her and Sofiane. They could pretend nothing was going on all they wanted, but literally everyone knew it was a lie. He was happy for her, whatever the case, because he could tell she and Sofiane cared about each other deeply and had for practically their whole lives.

Caring was something he’d grown up without, never really considering the impact it might have when he found it. He liked to be cared for, he’d come to realize. Being cared for wasn’t being pitied or belittled, it was a show of pure affection from someone who loved you through thick and thin. Sure, it would still take him some getting used to, but Manon, Imane, and Eliott were just the people to help him with that. He liked to be the one giving care as well, it came more naturally, probably because he’d done it unknowingly with his mother when he was young. There was nothing quite like showing someone how much they meant to you.

The rehearsals continued, going by more smoothly than initially anticipated, mostly due to the fact that the four of them were pretty professional when they wanted to be. It was strange for the show to be looming so close, it really was. Even stranger still was the fact that Lucas would dance the role of his dreams with one of his best friends opposite him in front of an audience that was sure to be more overwhelming than any he’d ever experienced prior.

Thinking about it led to wild daydreams of performing on the same stage as the principal dancer in the Paris Opera Ballet Company. If he even wanted to stay there, that was. It seemed blasphemous to even think of leaving, but he wasn’t assured a place in the company and he didn’t know if this environment was the one he was destined to belong in. He and Eliott hadn’t talked much about what they were going to do after this year, and Lucas had been avoiding thinking about it too much. Not so long ago he’d feared there would be no future for him. He’d wait until after the show, he decided, then he would figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life and his career, if his brain could hold out that long.

Career was a weird word for him to use, even in the confines of his own mind. It meant that his dreams were in reach should he decide to reach out and grab them. Hopefully they wouldn’t slip through his fingers.

Eliott snaked a hand around his shoulders, knocking their heads together. “Break time?” he asked, probably noticing how Lucas had zoned out over the last few minutes. Lucas nodded sinking into Eliott’s embrace.

“Perfect,” Manon said, patting her forehead for sweat that wasn’t there. It boggled his mind, honestly, how she simply didn’t sweat, like she’d just decided not to or something. “I have to meet Daphné,” she continued, light flush coating her cheeks.

“Why haven’t I been giving you a hard time about that?” Lucas wondered aloud, considering all the jokes he could have made about the two of them. Manon surely hadn’t held back on his behalf.

“Because you love us both too much,” Manon suggested with a wink, and Lucas rolled his eyes at her.

He raised one eyebrow, gathering his things from the front of the room. “I take offense on behalf of me and Eliott,” he said, nudging Eliott, who nodded even though he’d been talking to Imane.

Manon pouted at him, patting his cheek maternally. “Please, as if you don’t already know how much I love you.”

“That’s so sweet, Manon, but I’m gay,” he lamented.

“Me too,” she mocked, in the same tone of voice, “For the most part at least.”

She kissed him on both cheeks, waving to Eliott and Imane before leaving, eyes glued to whatever Daphné had probably just sent her on her phone. Eliott re attached himself to Lucas immediately after her absence, bodies melding into place, such a comfort in existing side by side.

Imane left as well, reminding them to meet back there in an hour or so to continue rehearsing, and Eliott and Lucas trailed a bit behind, too lost in their own world to see her meet up with Sofiane and walk off in the opposite direction.

Eliott covered Lucas’ eyes as they walked back to their room, both of them giggling like giddy schoolchildren, and he uncovered Lucas’ eyes with a flourish after struggling to open the door without his hands.

“Ta da!” he exclaimed proudly, gesturing to their room.

Lucas looked around for what the surprise was supposed to be. “Ah, Eliott? What am I supposed to be looking at?”

Eliott’s face fell and turned bright red as he bolted behind the kitchen counter, cursing. He rematerialized a moment later, holding a tray of muffins. Despite himself, Lucas softened.

“My famous blueberry-bacon muffins,” Eliott said proudly, and Lucas tried not to visibly show any disgust.

“When did you make them?” he asked instead, and Eliott blushed again.

“Ok, technically I didn’t make these ones specifically, Idriss did, but that’s only because we’ve been rehearsing all day and I still wanted to do something special for you,” Eliott continued with a timid smile. Every time Lucas thought Eliott couldn’t be more endearning, he had to go and do something like make Lucas want to eat blueberry-bacon muffins, didn’t he?

Lucas took the tray from his hands and set it on the counter before wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck. “I’m sure I’ll love them,” he lied, then pressed their foreheads together, “But not half as much as I love you.”

“I’d give you the world if I could,” Eliott said sincerely, and Lucas believed him. He had no reason not to. “No,” he amended, “The universe. Every single one of them.”

Lucas leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You already have.”

Eliott shut his eyes, rubbing their noses together and wrapping his arms around Lucas’ waist. Neither one of them moved an inch, sinking into the moment, and Lucas was struck by the peace he felt. It was a silent dance, the two of them swaying there in their kitchen slash living room combo area. It was easy to picture living in their own little apartment, spending most of their nights like this. If that was what their future held, no matter how far ahead, Lucas couldn’t wait.

Lundi 13:07

Eliott’s blueberry-bacon muffins had been awful, so Lucas declined the offer to go home and cook with Eliott during their dress rehearsal lunch break, instead agreeing to join Yann and Arthur in meeting up with Basile. They hadn’t seen him in a while, and Lucas had to admit he missed him and the illusion of normalcy he brought to their lives. He didn’t know how fucked up they’d all been recently, at least in Lucas and Arthur’s case, so there was a lot of catching up to do.

His friends had made him pick the restaurant, probably to assure that he would actually eat, but his knowledge of restaurants was pretty limited due to a combination of his eating problems and lack of free time outside of school, so they ended up at one of the same places they always went to but no one seemed to mind. Lucas ordered himself a sandwich and a salad, ignoring the looks that Yann and Arthur shared over his head.

Basile joined them, bringing the energy of a thousand suns with him. After exchanging pleasantries, he barrelled into talking about some drama he’d found himself in when Alexia had convinced him to help her throw a clandestine party in their school, but then the night guard turned up and almost caught them, and Lucas realized that if his life was crazy, normal was a whole other level of crazy.

“But, uh, what’s been up with you all?” Basile asked, noting all of their wide eyed gazes. He hadn’t stopped talking for nearly fifteen minutes, not that any of them minded, but he had been eating the entire time as well, words somewhat garbled for at least half the time he’d been speaking.

Yann and Lucas exchanged a look, wondering where to even begin. Arthur cut in instead. “You’re coming to the show this weekend, right?”

“Of course! I’ve told everyone at school about it a million times. Alexia too. Not sure how many people you can count on, to be fair, but Alexia, Idriss, and I will for sure be there cheering the loudest. Oh, and Alex,” Basile added, almost as an afterthought.

“Alex?” Yann inquired.

Basile clarified, “From Alexia’s party earlier this year? He and Emma have been dating since then, I think. And he’s friends with Idriss and Sofiane. Not sure about Eliott— oh, sorry, Lucas.”

Lucas furrowed his brows. “What?”

Basile blinked at him. “You hate Eliott?”

Arthur burst out laughing and Lucas blushed bright red. Surely he’d told Baz about Eliott… but then again he’d only just told everyone at school, and not necessarily because he’d wanted to. He just assumed everyone knew at this point, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

“Ah, Baz,” Lucas began, unsure of how to say it gently, “I’m, um, Eliott and I, um…” Fuck, he couldn’t do this, he felt so weird. Literally all Baz knew of Eliott was shit he’d heard from Lucas over the years, he didn’t have Arthur’s experience living with him or Yann’s ability to see past Lucas’ blind hatred and respect him as a person even if they hadn’t thought they would ever be friends.

“They’re fucking,” Yann supplied, and Lucas smacked him on the arm.

Basile’s jaw dropped wide open and his eyes searched Lucas’ face, as if looking for a hint that Yann was lying. It was technically true, but what he and Eliott had was so much more than that.

“They’re in looooove,” Arthur corrected, and Lucas shifted uncomfortably again, watching as Baz’s jaw dropped so far Lucas was convinced it would end up on the floor. Arthur met Lucas’ eyes across the table reassuring him that there were no hard feelings, which Lucas appreciated, because a small part of him did still wonder if there was a universe where Lucas still hated Eliott, and saw Arthur as something more than a friend.

“I need every detail right this minute,” was all Baz seemed to have the ability to say, still in utter shock. Lucas kind of wanted to circle back to Alex dating Emma, and Yann looked like he wanted to as well, but he supposed he didn’t mind talking about Eliott too much.

The look on his face must have gotten too soft too fast, because Basile nearly yelled in surprise, squinting at him. “Is this what a Lucas in love looks like? It’s terrifying,” he said to Arthur and Yann, and Lucas glared at him.

“Do you want me to tell you, or not?” he asked, crossing his arms, and Basile finally gestured for him to continue. He hadn’t told Yann or Arthur anything about how it had all gone down really. He launched into how he and Eliott had sort of become friends by accident, various small instances coming to a climax of pushing and pulling each other into a fountain and realizing that their hate was more or less a facade to cover up other feelings, at least in Lucas’ case.

He snuck in details about his eating disorder, wondering if he’d have to say it or if Basile would be able to infer from context clues. He hoped for the latter but was prepared for the former. Yann and Arthur seemed a little shocked at how many subtle hints they’d missed, but for the most part Lucas and Eliott had been good at keeping their romantic lives separate from the studio and vice versa. He didn’t tell them about Polaris, because he wanted Eliott to be able to tell people about it, but he did talk about the countless nights they’d spent together in the studio and how they’d accidentally been in the room when Manon and Daphné confessed their feelings to each other.

“Wait a minute,” Basile cut him off, holding his hands up. “Daphné… blonde Daphné? Gorgeous Daphné? Love of my life Daphné?”

Lucas shrugged. “Uh, yeah, I guess? What about her?”

Basile dropped his head into his hands dramatically on the table. “No! Do you think they’re going to break up any time soon? I swear, I’ve only met her a few times, but it was love at first sight. And second, and so on.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Arthur chimed in, patting Basile on the back. “Daphné is a lesbian.”

“She could be bi,” Basile pouted, lifting his head.

“Ah, but she’s not,” Arthur said apologetically, sharing a look with Lucas. Basile’s antics, while exasperating in large doses, had been sorely missed by Lucas.

“So what’s going on with Emma and Alex, then?” Yann asked casually, finding his opportunity.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, speaking in a low, warning, voice, “Yann…”

Yann ignored him, and Basile looked a little disgruntled by the subject change. “I don’t know much, Alex finds me annoying, I think, but him and Emma are annoyingly cute every time I’ve seen them together.”

“Oh, cool,” Yann said nonchalantly, and Lucas shot him another warning glare. Now was not the time for Yann to rediscover his feelings for Emma or get jealous over Emma’s new relationship.

“What about you, Tuturo?” Basile asked, moving on to eat a bit of Yann’s lunch. “How’s life been treating you?”

Arthur zoned out for a minute, and Lucas completely understood where his head was at. How was he supposed to succinctly wrap up a lifetime of struggle into one neat story to share with a friend? “Fine,” Arthur decided finally, “Better recently than it has been.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Basile sighed. “I must admit, you guys are a lot more boring than I’d hoped.”

Lucas laughed, taking a small bite of his salad. “I just told you all about my secret relationship with my roommate who I previously hated.”

“Yeah, but now you’re all happy and in love,” Basile said ruefully.

“He almost got kicked out of school a week ago, and now he’s playing the lead on alternating shows,” Arthur supplied, pointing his fork at Lucas.

Basile slammed his hands on the table. “Now this is what I’m talking about! Spill the tea, Lallemant, spill it now.”

Lucas took time to flip Arthur off before considering where to start. He was sure his final year of ballet school would be a story he’d tell for a long, long time, so it didn’t hurt to start then. He wondered how Eliott would tell it, or how Eliott would tell their story. Lucas’ version was tinged with regret and a bit of his chaotic energy, but wrapped in care. Where he might include stories of them doing stupid things and singing stupid songs in the middle of the night, he suspected Eliott would include the soft moments shared in the hazy morning light. Eyes meeting across the kitchen counter and hands gently tangled together as they talked, the only distance between them created by a current of words and thoughts to intimate to share aloud.

Was Eliott sitting in the kitchen with Sofiane and Idriss at that moment, each of them trying not to cringe over blueberry-bacon muffins as Eliott’s face lit up in wonder talking about their relationship? Was his version yearning and heartache warmed around the edges with the light of the sun that filled Eliott’s heart so full of love?

It was interesting to think about, that was for sure, the fact that there existed parallel universes even inside their own minds. Of course everyone saw and experience life differently, but Lucas had never really thought about it in terms of how two different people might recount the same series of events. It made him consider how he’d been the subject of so many misunderstandings in his life, and how much of that was probably due to his own perspective varying from the perspectives of others. Hadn’t his hatred of Eliott for years proved that? He was quite the unreliable narrator, especially inside his own mind, but wasn’t everyone? Was there even a person in the world who trusted themselves with unflinching clarity? If so, Lucas didn’t envy them. The questioning and mistakes were what made him human, and what made the epiphanies and happy moments much more worthwhile.

He’d been talking on autopilot while these thoughts ran through his mind, not really even paying attention to Basile’s reactions to the dramatic series of events that he simply called ‘life’. Basile cracked a few jokes when he was done, and Lucas melted into a laugh, shaking his head. A week ago he’d never thought any of this would be worthy or capable of being laughed at, but there they were.

Healing often took him by surprise, but it showed itself in subtle ways. This laugh, for example, or the fact that he’d eaten his whole meal without overthinking it. It said more about the safe space his friends had provided for him than anything else, but he was glad for it all regardless. He’d only had Eliott for a little while, he’d had these friends much longer, and he would never let himself forget that no matter how much he loved Eliott. Both loves were different, but that didn’t diminish either one of them, both just as important and essential to his healing and growth and livelihood.

They not only made him better, mentally, and physically, but they also made him want to be a better person so he could return the favor to them. Arthur was his first target, and he didn’t really know how well he was doing, but he was trying, and that would have to count for something.

Life was just a series of trying and trying and trying again, wasn’t it? Lucas had come close to not trying as of late, but he was glad he hadn’t stopped completely, because the payoff was so worth it.

Mardi 18:12

It was Lucas’ first therapy session beyond his diagnosis session, and to say he was nervous was a bit of an understatement. He didn’t know his therapist, she was different from the woman who’d assessed him previously, but she had a kind smile and pulled her hair back in a way that reminded him of his mom. He didn’t know if that made him sad or hopeful. Well, he supposed she was supposed to be the one to help him figure that out, wasn’t she?

She shook his hand as he walked into her office, sitting down on the couch across from her. He fidgeted a bit, not knowing how to sit. Was this formal, or casual? Was he supposed to lay on the couch like they always did in the movies?

“I’m Dr. Rowe, but you may call me Angelique, if that makes you more comfortable. In my experience, most of the people I treat prefer us to address one another on a first name basis, but I’ll do whatever suits you,” she said, voice kind. She looked younger than he’d expected her to be, but looks could be deceiving and he wasn’t stupid enough to ask.

“Um, first names are fine, yeah,” he agreed. Dr. Rowe seemed to formal for what they were going to be doing, even if it was his first instinct to refuse the familiarity. “I’m Lucas,” he supplied, even though she probably already knew that. She probably already knew more about him than he did.

“Lucas,” she confirmed anyways, giving him another warm smile. He couldn’t tell if that was her natural reaction or if she was just trying to be extra welcoming. Whatever the case, he didn’t mind it, and he could already feel himself becoming a bit more at ease.

She shuffled the few papers she was holding, turning more professional. “I have your diagnosis reports with me here, but that’s not what I want to talk with you about today, ok?”

“Ok?” Lucas put his hands under his legs, definitely not to keep them from shaking.

“Just… tell me about you. I don’t want to know you through what various files and diagnoses tell me, that’s not going to help either of us. I want to know you. Who is Lucas, really?” she prompted.

That was the question of a lifetime, wasn’t it? “Well,” he began, “I’m… struggling. I have been for so long I forgot what it’s like to not live every day in some sort of pain. It’s not that I didn’t want to get better, it’s more that I didn’t think there was any way of getting better. I didn’t know that was an option.”

“But you do now?” she asked.

He smiled involuntarily. “Yeah. I do. Someone in my life recently has helped me realize I’m worth more than I ever thought. I’m not really sure if I believe him all the time, but I think the same of him, so I get where he’s coming from and I try to listen.”

“What is your relationship to this person?” she continued, listening intently as ever. He already liked this session better than the one he’d had previously.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Lucas said, ducking his head. He knew for a fact he had when Yann had dubbed his ‘sappy Eliott face’ on right now and he didn’t want to be too much of a lovesick disaster right off the bat. “Eliott.”

“How did you two meet?”

He almost snorted aloud. She definitely wasn’t going to have been expecting what he was about to tell her. “We were best friends growing up,” he began, because it was as good a place as any to start. “We both go to school at the Paris Opera Ballet School, which you obviously know, at least on my behalf, but yeah. We kind of, um, grew apart for a few years, but we became friends again this year, and then something more.”

Angelique considered this, and she looked like she wanted to ask more about it. He figured she would. There was too much to cover in a single session, though, and the last thing he wanted was for her to come to come sort of conclusion that he and Eliott weren’t good together. Because if anything was true, it was that they truly did belong together.

“He’s helped me a lot, he’s the only one who really saw what was going on and wouldn’t let me talk my way out of it,” he said.

“Do you do that a lot?” she asked, “Talk your way out of things?”

He nodded. “Well, yes and no. Most times I just don’t talk about it at all, or get super defensive.”

She looked at him curiously. “You seem rather open with me?”

Yeah, he was kind of confused by it too. He shrugged. “I guess so many people know about the deepest darkest parts of me now that I don’t see the point in hiding it.”

She laughed. “That’s a start.”

“I guess,” he agreed, smiling minutely. “Is there, um, anything I should be talking about in particular?”

Angelique shook her head. “These sessions are more or less dictated by you. I’ll give my input, and I’ll lead you in discussions, but I don’t ever want to monopolize the conversation. This is about you and your growth most of all, and we’ll get there however you’re most comfortable.”

“And if I don’t know?” he asked.

She smiled, but it wasn’t a smile borne from joy, nor from sadness. It was a smile of understanding. “That’s ok too.”

He appreciated her flexibility, it did in fact make him feel better about being there, but he also wanted some sort of structure. Should he jump in with the capital T trauma right away, or was that something to be saved for later on when they knew each other a little better? Then again, she already knew quite a bit about him didn’t she? Even the things unwritten in his diagnoses were written in the way he sat or his vocal inflections. She could see the bags under his eyes or the light inside them, and she could see that he wrung his hands together when he didn’t know what to say or that those very same hands were made to hold the hands of another. Someone she could probably see was always on his mind, even in the quietest moments.

“I have a show starting this weekend,” he said instead, the only thing he could think to say.

“In the ballet?” she clarified, and he grinned, finding his footing. He could talk about ballet for hours and never tire of it.

“Yeah, it’s my final year of school, and every group of terminale students puts on a ballet production in the winter for the holidays, so this year we’re doing Swan Lake,” he explained.

She nodded along like she understood so far, which was promising. “And Swan Lake, is that one you’ve heard of? I apologize, I don’t know much about ballet.”

Lucas laughed, mostly to himself. It was crazy how those two words could mean so little to someone who was completely outside of the ballet world. “It’s been my favorite show since I was a kid. Prince Siegfried, the lead male role, has always been my dream role.”

“Is that who you’ll be playing, then?” she asked.

“That’s kind of a long story,” he admitted, “But yes, in a way. I’ll be alternating the role with Eliott. The show runs for two weekends, so he gets the Saturday matinee and the Sunday matinee, I get Friday evening and Saturday evening, and then next weekend we switch. Otherwise I’m just in the corps, which is sort of like the ensemble.”

She nodded. “And Eliott… is this the same Eliott…?”

She didn’t finish the thought fully, but he understood well enough. Who was Eliott? The man of his dreams, and so much more. “Yeah, this Eliott is my boyfriend.”

She blinked, sitting up a bit straighter. “I see.”

“When I said it was a long story, I really meant it,” he laughed nervously.

“Do you want to talk about it all now?” she asked, giving him the option to take things slowly, and he decided that was what he needed at the moment, especially with the show so close. He could go deep into his psyche once the show was over.

“Actually can I just talk a bit about ballet, for now?” he asked.

Angelique nodded graciously. “Of course. We’ll move at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”

“Ok,” he agreed readily, deciding what he wanted to do with the remaining time of their session. To his surprise, it was almost halfway through already. He was certain that not every session would fly by as quickly, but it was nice that this first one hadn’t been excruciating and uncomfortable.

“So,” he began again, and shared his passion for dance with Angelique, sparing no details of how he felt and what ballet did for him and his emotions. Being a dancer was where all the troubles and pain came about, but the act of dancing itself was ethereal. Nothing else mattered when he was dancing. Sure he might mess up some steps here and there or get tired after a while, but those things never bothered him in the moment. In the moment it was just Lucas in his purest form, and that was the sort of feeling he wanted to be able to find away from the stage or the studio.

When he spoke, he was worried Angelique wouldn’t understand, but he could see in her eyes that she did. She may not know anything about the finer details of which he spoke, but the overall feelings were universal, and as long as they both knew that Lucas could see their sessions being really good for him. He hoped they would be, at least.

It was a big, scary step to take to even go there in the first place, but he was proud of himself for doing so. Lucas from months or even weeks ago probably never would have predicted this. But he was Lucas Lallemant 2.0 now, and he’d found some love for himself that he was determined not to lose again for as long as he could. And if he ever did lose it again, he wanted to know how to find his way back, and being there with Angelique seemed like a great place to start.

Mercredi 9:39

It was the third day of dress rehearsals and Lucas was finally able to practice in his properly fitted costumes. He’d felt a twinge of guilt on Monday when he’d tried on the costumes made for him and realized they were at least a few sizes too big. He hadn’t really thought that was possible, but the measurements had been taken right after casting, and though no one had said anything about how much weight he’d lost in the meantime, the proof was in the outfitting.

It was a wonder to him how he hadn’t seen it, but then again he really hadn’t wanted to, and his brain liked to trick him into believing or disbelieving things more often than not. His ribs protruded too far and his collarbone was too defined and his jawline wasn’t sharp in the right kind of way, but he promised himself he would get back on track and try to fix the damage he’d wrought on his body for real. Sooner than later.

Lucas could see in Eliott’s eyes that he knew why Lucas had been quieter than normal while getting dressed, lost in his own head. He didn’t really want to talk about it, partially because he was ashamed and partially because he didn’t even know what he would say. Being thinner had never really been his objective, he’d always been fit from rigorous dance training, but there had always been that voice in the back of his mind telling him what a real ballet dancer looked like and how he needed to do everything in his power to be that person so no one would be able to overlook him ever again.

Yet in doing so he’d somehow allowed himself to waste away to someone small and fragile. He didn’t want to be fragile, he wanted to wear his costumes with pride and show the world that Lucas Lallemant wasn’t broken. The people he loved already knew it, and a part of him did realize that it shouldn’t matter if the whole world knew as long as the people he cared about did, but Lucas had always wanted more, flawed as that logic might have been.

Complicated emotions aside, it did fill Lucas with a bit of pride to be practicing the role of the Prince in full costume. Another thing he could see in Eliott’s eyes was how much he wanted to see Lucas outside of that costume, or maybe even have his way with him in it, and that was not very conducive to the fact that he was wearing tights.

Funny how he’d have to revert to all his old ignoring Eliott tactics for an entirely different reason. Thankfully, he was quite busy, as he was rehearsing for the Prince that day. When he’d been informed that he’d be the Prince in the first show instead of Eliott he’d gone from shock, to panic, to unease, to cautious acceptance. Eliott said he didn’t care, that he was happy to have a chance to dance the role at all, but Lucas knew it made Eliott a little upset that Lucas got to open and close their show in the lead role. He would have felt the same, but probably would have been more vocal about it.

Manon looked beautiful, of course. At the moment she was dressed in her Odile costume, the darkness of the tutu standing out starkly against her pale skin. No one could say she didn’t look striking up there on the stage, even during a simple dress rehearsal. Imane would have looked just as striking, and Lucas made sure to let her know that even if she pretended she didn’t want to hear it.

Lucas risked a glance at Eliott as Manon practiced her fouettes, mind trailing back to the weekend, knowing before their eyes even met that Eliott was thinking of the same thing.

You did them better, Eliott mouthed across the room, nodding to Manon.

He most absolutely did not, but he appreciated the sentiment. It must have shown on his face, all sappy and soft, because behind Eliott Yann mimed puking and Lucas had to take a momentary glance away from the man of his dreams to glare at this best friend. Eliott’s brows furrowed, turning and laughing in a small inaudible breath when he realized Yann was beside him. Lucas briefly wondered if he could (or should) start inviting Eliott to hang out with him and Arthur sometimes. He thought he might like that, and he thought Eliott might too.

“Lallemant, to the stage please,” the director called out, voice reeking of displeasure, but for once Lucas didn’t give a shit. After the show his interactions with the director would likely be kept to a minimum, so long as he didn’t fuck up like he had this term, and then he’d be gone and the director would only be a blip on the tapestry of his life. One that, with effort, could someday be stitched over.

Nevertheless, he did go to the stage, because no matter how shitty the director was it was like he’d explained to Angelique the day before; ballet meant too much to him to give into all the bad things. Maybe that was an unhealthy way to think too, but he could cross that bridge some other time. The same thoughts that had been plaguing him plagued him once more, his career and what it would end up being flitting in and out of the center of his thoughts.he closed his eyes briefly, brushing it all aside. For now, he was choosing to let himself enjoy this experience as it came and not dwell on the things he might have dwelled on a few weeks prior.

Lucas took Manon’s hand to practice one of their duets, and the soft smile that graced her face as he did so perfectly encapsulated how he felt under the lights of the stage, dressed in his costume, knowing that Eliott was probably watching him with pride. The last time he’d been on the stage with only one other person he and Eliott had been alone, wondering if their futures were about to slip through their fingers and if this was the last stage they’d ever dance on.

Manon and Lucas danced together seamlessly, a bond forged in what may as well have been blood, as she was one of the closest things he’d ever had to a sister, shared experiences and emotional support bringing them together in a way that impacted their dancing in the subtlest of ways. It was trust in its purest form, and it worked for the stage and the show in ways neither of them probably would have imagined when they’d been partnered up a year beforehand. Neither Lucas nor Manon had ever really been the trusting sort, but once someone earned that trust they’d go to the ends of the earth for them.

Lucas was still getting used to the idea that someone might actually go to the ends of the earth for him, that many people would if given the chance. The funny thing was, Lucas had never considered whether or not the ends of the earth even existed, he’d simply been certain everything in life had a definitive starting and ending point and that nothing in the middle really mattered much at all.

But on that stage, taking Manon by the hand, locking eyes with Eliott in the wings, he could see that everything in between mattered most of all. What was a beginning without something to follow, to turn a moment into infinity? And what was an end if not for everything leading up to that point, that one final moment? It was more likely that an end didn’t even exist, that the present was all that really mattered.

Minute by minute, Lucas and Eliott had promised, and minute by minute it would be until those minutes reached their eternity.

JEUDI 23:57

Lucas’ head was on Eliott’s chest but he wasn’t tired. He should have been sleeping, the show was less than twenty four hours away, but he couldn’t bring himself to. At first he dismissed it as nerves, but he truthfully wasn’t that nervous. At least not in a bad way.

He was thinking, that pesky thing that always seemed to get him into trouble. Not about the show in particular, but a little bit about everything. The same thoughts from earlier in the week had hit him like a ton of bricks earlier that day and now he couldn’t get them out of his mind, no matter how much he tried. It seemed ironic, given how he’d only been thinking about how imperative it was to live in the moment a day ago, that he now was considering the future once more.

The thought that had struck him had come at a brief moment, and surprisingly it hadn’t had anything to do with him at all. Eliott was onstage practicing and the director was looking at him with such distaste that some of his friends had even asked Lucas about it. And yes, Lucas knew that the decision to let them stay had likely not been unanimous, the director leading the opposition, but Eliott had been his star for so long that to see him flip completely only bolstered with the information of Eliott’s mental illness was sickening. It was disheartening and downright cruel to see what a change such a thing could bring, something entirely out of Eliott’s control, simply because the director viewed neurodivergence as lesser than. It wasn’t only him, of course, it would and probably had been already, many people, but it made Lucas think.

He’d always dreamed of entering the company after completing his training at school, the Paris Opera Ballet was one of, if not the most prestigious ballet in the world, but did he want that if he had a pretty good idea of how he’d be treated? Did he want to put himself into a situation that might derail his healing process? If not, what were his other options? The realization that his future was almost entirely his decision had come without warning and pushed the thoughts into a full on spiral.

“Lu?” Eliott’s sleepy voice interrupted the train of questions pushing their way into his mind.

Lucas hummed in response, listening to Eliott’s heartbeat. Eliott continued, just as groggily, “I can hear you thinking.”

“Can you?” Lucas teased, half of him willing Eliott to go back to sleep the other half wanting to talk and talk and talk until all the thoughts ran free from his head and he felt like he could breathe peacefully again.

“Lucas,” Eliott said, sounding more awake now than before, and Lucas sighed.

“Eliott.”

Eliott shifted so they were lying opposite one another, ignoring Lucas’ small groans at being denied Eliott’s chest as a pillow. “What’s going on?”

Lucas sighed again. “I know we promised minute by minute, and I’m trying, but these thoughts won’t leave my mind and I don’t know what to do about them.”

“What thoughts?” Eliott looked concerned, and Lucas didn’t want him to be.

“I don’t want to be here next year,” he said quietly, realizing how that sounded when Eliott stiffened beside him. He rushed to clarify, “Like, in the Paris Opera Ballet. I don’t want to dance for the Paris Opera Ballet.”

Eliott relaxed slightly, nodding. “Oh. Yeah. Where do you want to be?”

Lucas hadn’t gotten that far yet. “I don’t know. Somewhere I’m not already a pariah.”

“You aren’t a pariah—”

“We both are, Eliott. The director has a say in the company too, and I don’t want to give him the chance to ruin ballet for me more than he’s already tried to,” Lucas pleaded, not really sure why he was pleading. It wasn’t like Eliott wasn’t listening to him, he was. Lucas just felt the need to justify everything to an extreme degree all the time.

Eliott simply looked at him in one of those ways he always did, one of those ways no one ever had before, and touched his cheek softly. “Hey. Lucas. I understand.”

“Oh.”

Eliott smiled minutely, thumb brushing Lucas’ cheekbone. “I haven’t really allowed myself to think about it, since my diagnosis, but… I don’t know if I want to be here either.”

“Really?” Lucas blinked in surprise. The way Eliott loved Paris… Lucas had never seen anything like it, so he’d never even considered Eliott might feel the same way he did.

“It hurts me a bit to even think about,” Eliott admitted, “Because I love Paris more than I can even express, but Paris will always be here.”

“What do you mean?” Lucas asked.

Eliott moved his hand to Lucas’ hair. “I want to experience a bit of the world outside what I’ve always known. I’ll always have Paris, we’ll always have Paris, but it might be fun to see what else the world has in store for us. I’ve always wanted to go to London, or Berlin, or America, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Hey,” Lucas said, placing a hand on Eliott’s cheek. “I want that too, I think. I’ve just been scared to admit it to myself. Paris is just a place, when it really comes down to it. I’ve never really had a home until now. My home is with you.”

Eliott blushed, looking a bit flustered even in the dim light and Lucas couldn’t help but smile. “And mine with you,” Eliott said, voice no more than a murmur.

Lucas turned onto his back and gazed up at the ceiling. Sometimes he forgot whose room they were in at night, but it was usually Eliott’s. Lucas knew that Eliott liked sleeping there better, in the comfort of the drawings and posters he’d hung up on the walls in the bed with the sheets he carefully made every day. Lucas preferred being in there too, it felt warmer than his room, more personal. They were almost through with the term and Lucas had yet to put up any decorations in his own room or make it look like more than a place he slept every once and awhile. Eliott’s hand slipped from his cheek to his waist.

“What are you thinking about now?” Eliott asked.

“Us, I guess,” Lucas said, gaze still turned upward.

“What about us? Good things I hope?” Lucas could hear the hint of a smile in Eliott’s voice and he let it wash over him like a warm blanket.

Lucas folded his hand over the one Eliott circled his waist with. “Of course. I think only the best things of you.”

“You didn’t for quite a while there,” Eliott joked, and Lucas finally turned his head back to look at him.

“No, I didn’t.” He hummed, settling back into Eliott’s side. “Part of me has always been afraid of change, you know? But this year so many things have changed, and I don’t really mind it.”

“No?”

Lucas shook his head. “I mean, for example, I moved out of my dad’s house, which is probably one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, I became closer with Manon than I ever thought I’d be and now I can’t imagine my life without her, I had to face some new realities about myself and my mental and physical health, and I fell in love with you. If you would have told me last year that any of this would be happening, I’m not sure if I would have laughed or fought it with every fiber of my being, but I’m glad I didn’t. I’m glad it all happened.”

“You’re telling me it was never a fantasy of yours to fall in love with your arch nemesis?” Eliott asked, scandalized.

Lucas laughed louder than he meant to, thinking about Yann talking about enemies to lovers fanfiction and whatnot. “Was it yours?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eliott agreed right away. “I thrive off of sexual tension concealed by a layer of hate. That’s the only reason I let you hate me, of course, so that one day you could push me into a fountain, I could pull you in after me, and our story would reach its peak.”

“Psssh, that is so not the peak of our story,” Lucas shot back.

Eliott raised an eyebrow at him. “No?”

“No! Our peak hasn’t happened yet. If we’re lucky, it never will.” Lucas began to draw a graph with his hands, hoping Eliott was following along. “It’s like one of those graphs for exponential growth, you know? The curve keeps going up with no end.”

“You lost me,” Eliott said apologetically, and Lucas just laughed.

“I forgot math and science aren’t your subjects.”

Eliott scrunched his nose, nudging Lucas a bit. “No need to rub it in smarty pants.”

Lucas nudged him back, taking the time to meet him halfway for a soft, searing kiss. “All I’m saying is that I love you exponentially. My love for you grows each day with no intention of ever stopping, even when we’re old and grey.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll ever be old and grey.”

Lucas giggled despite himself, despite the fact that he’d been trying to be serious. “What the fuck does that even mean? Are you a vampire or something?”

“They don’t call me Edward Cullen for no reason,” Eliott said with a slight shrug, and Lucas broke down into giggles again.

“Who calls you Edward Cullen?” he asked between bouts of laughter.

Eliott started to laugh too, trying to hide it. “No one yet. But they will.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Lucas said, adoration coating every layer of his voice.

“Ah,” Eliott said, pulling him close. He kissed the tip of Lucas’ nose, then his lips. “But I’m your idiot.”

Lucas blushed bright red, kissing Eliott senseless because he could. “That you are,” he agreed. And it was in that dim, love drunk light that Lucas realized no matter what he decided or what he wanted to do with his life and his career, he could do it. Because he had Eliott, and he could do anything with Eliott by his side. With Eliott the dark wasn’t so dark and the light had never been brighter.

It was crazy to think that he’d never considered the possibility of another person making him feel that way, like his heart was on fire in the best way possible. Daddy issues aside, love was never something he’d taken for granted, and he had never intended on giving his heart away unless he knew the person on the receiving end deserved it. And that Eliott did, he deserved every bit of love Lucas could offer.

Internal tumult put to the wayside for the time being, Lucas breathed in and out more steadily once more. His eyelids felt heavier than they had a moment earlier and he leaned into the feeling, aiming to be as well rested as possible for one of the biggest days of his life so far. He wondered, at the end of his life, how this day would rank, if it would rank at all. He couldn’t decide if he hoped it did or hoped it didn’t. There were so many good days to come, there had to be.

Lucas was on the precipice of sleep, brain shutting down more and more with each passing second when Eliott decided to speak again. “And by the way?” Eliott whispered, just as Lucas settled back onto his chest, falling closer to sleep with every passing second, “I love you exponentially as well.”

Lucas fell asleep with a smile on his face.

VENDREDI 18:45

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes until everything Lucas had worked so hard for was realized. Rehearsals had been hell, even though they had really only been finalizing blocking and lighting, not wanting to tire anyone too much before their big night.

Manon looked to be a vision of calm in her white tutu, makeup done to perfection, probably by Daphné, who held her hand loosely. They’d all just vacated the stage and waited in the wings, smiles full of eagerness and anxiety. Imane in particular refused to talk to anyone, tying and retying her pointe shoes. Lucas felt like his whole body was buzzing with nerves, but there was nothing more to be done. This was it. They’d made it, and now it was time to show everyone what they could do.

He didn’t know whether he felt better or worse about the fact that there was no one in the audience there to cheer him on. On the one hand, he could probably dance better for a crowd of strangers than he could for people he knew, but on the other it would have meant everything to him to see his mother’s face out in the crowd, or even just to know that she was proud of him. He hoped that in another universe she was proud, and that she would greet him after the show with a bouquet of flowers and a hug to last a lifetime.

Minor costume snafus aside, everything backstage was running well and everyone was where they were supposed to be. Eliott looked like a dream, even dressed for the corps. Lucas hadn’t mentioned anything, but he could see the longing in Eliott’s eyes when he looked at him, longing that couldn’t be attributed to the love they felt for one another. Sure, come Saturday Eliott would have his chance to be in Lucas’ position, but this was supposed to be him, and he wasn’t supposed to have to share the spotlight.

Basile had been blowing up his, Arthur’s, and Yann’s phones before they’d gotten into preparation mode, so he could only assume that he’d find Basile, Alexia, Alex, and Idriss somewhere in the crowd being the kind of idiots ballet tried to avoid. He loved them for it.

Arthur came to stand beside Lucas, looking down at him. It wasn’t like Lucas had never seen him wear contacts before, but he was still struck with how different Arthur looked without his glasses. He looked less like a boy, more like someone regal, deserving to be sculpted in marble. He looked like the type of person Lucas could only hope to be someday, even if it was all just a facade.

“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked.

Lucas looked out to the stage from the wings, wanting to pinch himself to make sure this was all real. “Ask me again after the show?”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked up. “You’re going to do amazing,” Arthur promised, sounding so sure.

“Thanks,” Lucas said genuinely, instead of deflecting with a snarky comment like he wanted to. “You too.”

“Pssh, please, with Eliott in the corps no one will look at me twice,” Arthur joked.

Lucas could have joked back, or rolled his eyes, but being where they were, he was feeling a bit sentimental. “They’d be stupid not to,” he said, and Arthur looked surprised.

“I mean it,” he continued, looking Arthur in the eye, “You’re a really amazing dancer. I know you’ve been through a lot, and if I were you I probably would have quit a long time ago, but I can see how much you love it when you allow yourself to. So do that, allow yourself to love it, because this world is a horribly fucked up place but if you can find happiness somewhere along the way you should hold onto it and never let it go.”

Arthur was still looking at him intently, unspeaking. “It’s what I do,” Lucas admitted, “And you know me, I’m no optimist, I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason and that everything we do is all in god’s plan, or whatever, but I do think that we can create new memories to try to escape the bad ones, and that when we love something, it should never be a bad thing.”

“You’re wise now, too, who the hell are you?” Arthur said, looking him up and down, which was about as sentimental as he expected from Arthur. But then, he admitted, “I’m trying. To enjoy it. I want to, because all of you here mean more to me than anyone else in my life, and if anyone deserves one hundred percent of me, it’s you all.”

“Me especially?” Lucas asked, nudging Arthur lightly and earning him a glare.

“Yes, you especially,” Arthur caved, pointing a finger at him as he did so, “But not because I’m in love with you. Or was in love with you. Fuck if I know anymore. Even platonically, you’re one of the most important people to me, I really mean that.”

Lucas smiled, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He was determined not to let them fall, even if only because Daphné had done his makeup so well. “You are to me too. And I really mean that.”

“Are the gays being all sappy, is that what I’m witnessing?” Another voice entered their conversation, a voice unmistakably belonging to the third in their three musketeers. Yann slung an arm around both of their shoulders, grinning cheesily. “Because if so, why didn’t you invite me?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, expression tinged with fondness. “I’m bi, asshole.”

“A gay is a gay,” Yann said solemnly, and Lucas resisted the urge to strangle him.

The three of them stood there for a minute in complete silence, even as the world bustled around them, looking out onto the stage.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” Yann said, all traces of humor gone from his voice. Lucas couldn’t do anything but nod, as if in a daze.

“It’s surreal,” Arthur agreed.

And then the moment ended, Emma shoving past them to get in the proper place, and Lucas realized their fifteen minutes had run out. Eliott was on the other side of the stage, but they’d already said their break a legs and kissed each other senseless for the night.

Manon’s fingers ghosted across his and he saw every emotion he was feeling reflected in her expression. He clasped her fingers, squeezing them tightly, and the small amount of tension that had been present left her shoulders, leaving her looking every bit the regal prima ballerina she was destined to be.

“Are you ready?” someone asked. Lucas didn’t even know if they were talking to him, but as the curtains opened and the lights flooded the stage, he smiled. Eliott’s eye caught his from the wings on the opposite side of the stage, filling him to the brim with warmth. There was no jealousy, no longing, just pure love and pride. The music filled the room and Lucas rolled back his shoulders, wasting only a single moment to mouth I love you across the stage to the boy on the other side. He stepped to the edge of the curtain, awaiting his cue.

“I am.”

***

The curtains closed, but the image of a whole crowd of people standing and cheering as he bowed in front of them didn’t leave Lucas’ mind, and he hoped it never would. He couldn’t feel a thing, adrenaline too high, everyone around him looked like they were moving in slow motion.

“How are you feeling?” Arthur’s voice invaded his daze, and Lucas blinked, image of the crowd vanishing from his mind. Ask me after the show, he heard himself saying only hours earlier as Arthur had asked the same question.

He thought about Manon and how they’d danced as one, a bond unbreakable in every sense of the word. Meeting Eliott’s eye backstage and kissing him during intermission, careful not to mess up their makeup. Sofiane pulling off a showstopping performance no one would ever forget. All the girls sharing the stage looking like they’d been born to dance there together. Julian from the year below holding his own on the stage, wholly out of his depth but handling it all better than anyone could have expected. Yann proving that he wasn’t someone to overlook, Arthur letting himself go and dance the way he’d held back from for so many years. The fact that they got to do this all again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

How was he feeling? Alive, happy, lost, tired, whole, every emotion in between a million times over. He thought of every universe he existed in, and how none of them could possibly compared to this one, in this moment.

Eliott swept him up spinning him around with the widest smile Lucas had ever seen.

How was he feeling?

“Infinite.”

#skam france #elu fic #elu #elu ballet au #skamfr #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #WE BACK BITCHES

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