Page 88 of Off Balance

"Yeah, I kind of assumed the guy in the suit was the detective. The other two said they were friends. I thought maybe they were working on some kind of testimony or something. I didn't ask questions?—"

I don't hear most of what he says, I'm already halfway up the stairs before he finishes his sentence. Dwayne and the detective aren't far behind me.

If I'm right, whoever is upstairs is no friend of Cam's.

CHAPTER 25

CAMERON

The bed feels cold without Dom's big, warm body curled around mine. I vaguely remember him whispering in my ear and kissing my head before he left the apartment. Once the door clicked shut, I was awake, but I've been laying here ever since, staring at the vaulted ceiling.

It's weird how codependent I've become on one man's company after just a few days. Having him to myself while he tried to distract me from my normal routine has been more than an adequate diversion.

This morning, Dom is having a sit-down meeting with his brother on neutral territory where they aren't likely to start a shouting match or worse. I hope it wouldn't come to that. I have faith that they can make it back to being friends as well as brothers eventually. They need to talk and sort out details for the next few days. They're supposed to get on a plane tomorrow.

Then it's back to the studio for me. Well, my personal studio. I won't be stepping foot intoDe Pointe Eliteever again. There's a chance I'll never step foot in any theater again, aside from maybe our community center. It's not ideal, but if the trade-off is escape from Emile and a life spent happy and laughing with Dom, thenI think it will be worth it. I'll still put forth my best effort to apply to the World Ballet Competition, if only to show my family that I'm not broken.

Despite my current circumstances, I'm weirdly happy and optimistic about the future. And yes, okay, maybe it's not the best coping mechanism to hinge all of my happiness on one man. I know it's not healthy. I'd be a therapist's wet dream. But for once, I'm leaning on someone that builds me up and makes me feel good about who I am on the inside as well as the outside. He makes me believe in myself. And for now, that's a good stepping-stone.

I stare at the notebook and pen on the kitchen counter, waiting for me to draft out the cover letter for my application. It might be too much to hope that someone will actually read it and take my words into consideration, but I think it'll feel good to put in the effort to achieve something that I really want. With the words floating around in my mind, I get up and get ready for my day. Dom left some cut fruit and a jar of overnight oats for me in the fridge. After pouring the oats into a bowl and making a cup of tea, I sit down and stare at the notebook, drafting the words I want to say in my mind while I eat.

Finally, I set my bowl aside and pick up the pen.

To Whom It May Concern,

From the moment I walked in to my very first dance class, I knew I had discovered something special. It was a way to express my emotions and connect with the world around me when I'd often felt lost and alone.

It wasn't always easy to follow this path. When I was a young boy, my father tried on multiple occasions to stop me from dancing, to toughen me up, to force me into the mold ofthe person he wanted me to be. He thought being a dancer made me weak. Thankfully, Ihad the love and support of my mother, my aunt, and my cousin to help me get around the obstacles that my father put up for me. I have them to thank for the ways that dance has shaped, and in some ways saved, my life.

Dance has always been more than an outlet to express myself physically. It's an expression of my identity, my emotions—the embodiment of love and defiance against the constraints society has tried to impose on me, as it does so many others. The application video I have chosen to submit reflects this spirit. It may not conform to traditional expectations, instead it is my own form of protest in a world that challenges those who dare to go against the status quo.

I'm aware that my expression of defiance might turn you off from considering me for this competition. If it does, I will, of course, accept your decision. I hope you understand that it is in the spirit of dance, and not opposition, that I take my fate into my own hands. I recently faced a loss of autonomy and sense of self. This dance, my own original choreography, is my way of taking it back.

This dance is for me. Because, like it has been since I was six years old, dance is how I'll heal, and grow, and overcome.

Thank you for your consideration.

Cameron Rae Stevens

Even though Dom will be recording me later, I still set up the tripod and record my choreography on an old camcorder so I can watch and see what areas of the choreography need improvement. I'm a little shaky on my pointe shoes at first, but after stretching and warming up for an hour, I'm feeling confident enough. Part of recording the rehearsals is to comparethe dance en pointe, and then in my regular ballet flats, to see which version is stronger. I really feel that the pointe shoes add something special, something refined, to the choreography, but if I can't make it look seamless, they'll just be a distraction. And as they're a statement of defiance against gender norms already, I don't want to overshadow the dance itself.

After each pass through, I watch the footage and make small adjustments before starting again. After going through the dance only twice, I'm convinced that the pointe shoes are necessary. I just really need to nail it. I need it to look like I've been dancing en pointe for years, not a couple of months here and there. So I run it again. And again. And again.

As the music fades on my fifth or sixth run through, someone claps. Multiple someones.

My stomach drops before I even look up to see who it is. Something in the atmosphere of the room shifts and turns cold, and I just know it’s him.

"You know, I think maybe I didn't give you enough credit. The choreography is unique. And the pointe shoes do give it a certain level ofje ne sais quoi. It is very beautiful. Very sexy," Emile says, walking into the center of the room, circling me like a shark.

"What are you doing here, Emile?" I cut my eyes at Theo and Mark standing in the doorway. They're trying too hard to look casual, betraying the purpose of this visit—intimidation.

"You were not answering your phone, and I wanted to check on you after Sunday's little…incident."

"Cut the crap, Emile. You shouldn't be here. I'd like you to leave."

"I cannot be concerned about my star dancer?" He pouts, not even bothering to hide his insincerity. "I hope you are feeling much better?"

"I'll be better once they figure out what you gave me. Now get the fuck out, all of you."

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