Black Adagio by Wendy Potocki

assured that the decisions would be based on talent. Falling for that story hook, line, and sinker, she clutched at her throat trying to make sense of the rest of what she'd heard. Were they really discussing her? Had Viktor really compared her to Una?
    Her mind was running rampant. It ignored the fact that there were over 50 other girls invited to what Grant had called a shindig. Her mind alive with possibilities about the change in program, perhaps they were doing Giselle. A tale of madness, there would still be no reason for hysteria over choosing it. Staged many times, it certainly never brought death and destruction to its participants.
    Hearing no more footsteps, Missy came out of her hiding place. Dashing down the corridor to the other staircase, her eyes remained glued on Una's door. Set to descend the stairs, she ran into a set of eyes as cold as Siberia.
    “You! How long have you been here?”
    It was Viktor. Laying in wait, he’d set a trap and she'd fallen into it. Cornered, his bulky girth blocked her from exiting around him. Taking a tentative step backwards, he matched her so that she was no further away for her effort.
    “I didn't mean to listen ... I was ...” Melissa denied between gulps. Her mind frazzled, she was unable to come up with a cover story good enough to satisfy the hungry wolf breathing down Little Red Riding Hood's neck.
    “I should bite off your nose,” he threatened. Mayhem running through his veins and tingeing his voice with contempt, he lowered his words to a whisper meant only for her to hear. “Then I will devour you whole.”
    Whirling around, he left her in his wake. His words hitting on what she’d felt when she entered the dance academy, she dared not move. His menacing sentiments still ringing in her ears, she sat on the top step as he limped away. The echo of his cane sounding like a drumbeat, it signaled the end of her dancing career.
     

    Chapter Eight
     
    “You were right about Una switching the programs, Melissa,” Collette confirmed on their way to partnering class. “It’s all over school.”
    The two friends stopped by a vending machine for a quick snack. While Melissa had shared some of the conversation that she’d overhead with her friend, she hadn’t told her everything. The information about Brandi’s parents buying their daughter parts was too hurtful. 
    “Did you hear what we’ll be performing?” Missy asked, nibbling her granola nut bar.
    “No, only that we won't be doing Swan Lake —just like you said.”
    “Who did you hear it from?”
    Continuing to walk, they entered the classroom, keeping their voices low.
    “From Kurt, but he said that Brandi was his source. He said her parents got another call … last night. Guess they’re not happy. According to her, she was set to dance the lead, but really, why the hell is Una so chummy with her parents? I just don't get it.”
    Biting her tongue, she was thrilled that her roommate wouldn’t be butchering the role of Odette/Odile. She didn’t care how much funding it brought the school, it would have been a travesty. Hunching her shoulders, she feigned ignorance in the identical way she'd done in the past.
    “I don’t know, but Una and Viktor are here,” she whispered, tucking away the remainder of the health bar.
    “Wonder why?”
    “Have no idea.”
    “Well, I hope it’s to announce the new program. Hope it's something cool that needs a lead with big hips!”
    “Oh, you!” Melissa admonished, slapping her lightly on her upper arm. Collette played along. Wincing piteously, she acted as if she were mortally wounded.
    A soft tittering running throughout the room, Una brought it to a halt with a clap of her seasoned hands.
    “Hello! In case you’re wondering, no, I am not taking class!” she teased. “I'm here to make the first announcements about the castings in our recital performance of The Nutcracker . Christina Rohms will be dancing Dew Drop and the Arabian solo. Brandi Cappella