Page 96 of The Dancer and the Masks (Their Obsession 1)

Chapter 25

CHRISTY

For two days I have lived side by side with the Numbers, rehearsing with them in the studio only returning to Thirteen’s room to sleep and eat.

I don’t see The Masks and the Numbers don’t speak of them either.

Begrudgingly, I have to admit that the show One has put togetherisspectacular. It isn’t just a series of routines, but an intricate marriage of gifted performances from each of the Numbers.

Aside from a few short appearances throughout the show, I have a solo dance routine right in the middle of the set to break up the acts performed on either side. One gave me carte blanche to choreograph my own routine, and a large part of me has found a huge sense of achievement in that, afreedomI’ve not felt before.

It’s a dangerous feeling, one I refuse to get used to.

I won’t lie, however. Over the past couple of days I’ve caught myself looking forward to performing in the show, then hating myself for it.

It feels like I’m giving up, that I’m giving in by taking part, by doing what The Masks have demanded. The only thing I’m holding on to is the fact that, unlike the other Numbers, I realise that’s part of the manipulation. I’m not a fool. The Masks, with the help of One, have coerced the Numbers into obedience by giving them what they desire most: freedom to express themselves doing what they love. It seems unutterably cruel, an illusion made up of smoke and mirrors. Though, I guess that’s the whole point.

Despite that knowledge, I’ve trained alongside the rest of the Numbers without complaint, playing my own game of obedience whilst I bide my time until the night of the show.Thiswill be my chance to escape. The Numbers and The Masks will be too busy entertaining their clients to keep their eye on me. Thirteen is planning on keeping Twelve company for the evening, and the staff will be making sure everything is as it should be for the arrival of the guests.

It’s the perfect opportunity to run.

It might be myonlyopportunity, and I’ll be damned if I pass it up because I’m afraid I might fail. This brief moment of obedience, of achievement—however warped it may seem—won’t stop me, because unlike the rest of the Numbers, I have a family outside of these castle walls that love me, miss me, and Ineedto get back to them.

“Good work, Zero. I’m impressed,” One says as I finish up my routine, my thoughts whirring with plans of escape.

“Thank you,” I mutter, crouching down to untie the ribbon from around my ankles as sweat trickles down my spine and sticks my hair to my forehead. Her words are kind, but her tone isn’t. She’s as masked as Jakub, Leon and Konrad are. But I see through her to the woman underneath. It seems unfathomable somehow, that something so pure can come from a woman who trades in dreams and illusions just like The Masks. The bottom line is I don’t trust or respect One, even if the rest of the Numbers do.

“Are we done for today?” Ten asks, breaking the awkward silence between One and me as she stretches her arms above her head, her small tits bouncing as she moves from side-to-side. Her sisters are bare chested too as they change from one outfit to another. Of all the Numbers they’re the oddest. Talking in tandem, finishing off each other’s sentences. They’re like one person cloned, without any defining personality traits to separate one from the other. It’s bizarre.

But no more bizarre than the fact I’ve seen all of the Numbers in various stages of undress over the past couple of days, to the point where I no longer feel embarrassed looking at them naked. They’re comfortable in their skin in a way I wish I could be.

“Yes. We’re done. You’re free to leave.Allof you,” she adds, when Three, Seven and Six linger, waiting for me. “I wish to speak with Zero alone.”

“Zero?” Six asks, tentatively, a question in her gaze.

“She’s fine!” One snaps, brooking no arguments. “Get changed, go to your rooms, eat, and get a good night’s sleep. We have one last rehearsal tomorrow in the theatre before Saturday’s performance.”

“Theatre?” I ask.

“You didn’t think we performed for our guests here, did you?”

“I suppose not,” I agree, wondering where the theatre is located in the castle and marvelling at the fact they even have one.

It takes a few minutes for all the Numbers to change and leave. Once they’re gone, One turns her attention back to me as I slide out of my pointes and stand, revelling in the feeling of wiggling my toes, easing the throb in my feet. I’ve not danced this much in years and the rigorous training and rehearsals over the past couple of days have taken their toll on my body, specifically my feet which are bruised from constantly dancing in pointes. My toenails are cracked and bleeding, and I have blisters covering my heels and almost every toe knuckle. But it’s a good kind of pain. The kind that comes from a sense of achievement, much like a carpenter might feel from the calluses on his hands when building a piece of furniture from scratch.

“It’s such a shame. You really could have fit in so well with us,” One says, her fingertips grazing against the strap of the satin pink dress she gave me to wear two days ago. This is the first time I’ve worn it and she didn’t bother to hide her surprise or her disgust when she saw my scars.

“You think I’m ugly,” I say, knowing it to be true.

One flicks a strand of long dark hair over her shoulder, her almond eyes assessing me. “What I think doesn’t matter. If Jakub wants you to perform in the show, then you’ll perform in the show.”

“Do you always do what he says?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head, turning my back to her as I pull up my dress and hang it up on the rail with the other costumes the Numbers will be wearing, quickly covering back up with a long, navy-blue, knee length dress Thirteen gave me to wear. I’ve not seen her all day. She’s been tending to Twelve’s wounds that have become a little infected according to Five, who alerted Thirteen to the fact this morning.

“Will there be anything else?” I ask.

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