Page 116 of The Failed Audition

He shakes his head repeatedly. “Thora, you havenoidea what you’re getting into.”

“It’s probably not as bad as you think.”

He stares at me like I’m out of my mind. “You’recompletelynaïve if you believe there won’t be a sexual favor involved. They’ll make you strip, suck him off, give him—”

“Stop,” I cringe.

“No, youhaveto hear this.” He steps nearer, until he towers above me. “I won’t let you take a job that you believe is something it’s not.”

I’m conflicted, all over again. But I remember my plan. “I’m going to try to find another job today. I’ll call John. He got me the one at Phantom. And I’ll ask around and look online, but if I can’t find anything…” Tears well at the devastation in his eyes. “I need this job, Nik.”

“Live with me,” he says.

For so many reasons, this isn’t possible. “You know I can’t.” The words hurt as much to hear as they are to say. And as horrible as it seems, I think it’d be different if he was just afriend. If I was crashing at his place for a couple nights like at the beginning. But to rely on him this way now—it feels like defeat, like I failed at my purpose for being here.

He kneels. At my feet. I don’t have to strain my neck anymore. And he places his hands on my thighs. “I know you want to be independent, but it shouldn’t cost what you say you’re willing to pay.”

“I wouldn’t…” My voice cracks and I shake my head. “I wouldn’t blow another guy. I wouldn’t do anything like that, Nik.”

“And what if they put you in that position?”

“I’ll leave,” I say, adamant about this.

“And what if they don’t let you leave?” His jaw muscles tense.

“They will.” I have to believe they will. Before he rebuts, I add, “I can’t leech off you. Timo spends all of his money, and you support him and Katya and Luka. You can’t afford to provide for me too.”

He doesn’t refute me—because it’s true. He suddenly rises to his feet. “We’re not training today.”

My stomach drops. “Wait—”

“I have to make some calls,” he clarifies. “If you only have today to find another job, then I want to use every hour.”

My lips part in shock. “You’re going to help me?” I’m not sure what I expected his reaction to be, maybe to throw an ultimatum at me.Him or this job.Like my dad did. But this outcome overwhelms me, in a bigger way.

He tilts his head, his eyes softening. And he speaks in hushed Russian. Not long after, he says in English, “I’d help you every day so that you could see a better tomorrow. I will never give you less than that.”

My heart expands with each syllable.

And I wonder if his briefly spoken Russian was what those gray eyes convey now. The sentiments too strong to ignore.

I love you.

I see those words all over him.

I feel them.

But neither of us can say them aloud. Maybe we both refuse to wedgeI love youbetween my purpose for being here, in Vegas.

Love—it has to come second.

ACT THIRTY-SIX

After non-stop job hunting, Nikolai and I came up short.

I agreed to the private shows about three days ago. Roger booked me one for tonight. And in those three extra days, available jobs seemed nonexistent. At least ones in my skillset. John said that most clubs are cutting back on aerialists, and I didn’t have enough experience to be a bartender or a dealer.

The waitressing gigs also were out of my element. I tried a couple places and they said my height would be a problem or I wasn’t the “right fit”—which John said was the subtle way of telling me that I wasn’t “hot enough” for the men there.

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