His Precious Flower

Chapter 2

Flavia pov

"1 2 3, 1 2 3, 1 2 3, 1 2 3."

Jac counts as we dance the final part of the nutcracker.

The end dance is much more fast pace than the beggining, but that doesn't stop me from

analyzing my instructor with skepticism.

As I hold my arms in a tight circle and spin on my toe, I bend my knee and snap back up with a

twork to keep the pace while simultaneously letting my thoughts run wild.

Ever since I called Jac back in he's been solemn. Serious.

Not that he isn't normally like that, but now it's more so than usual.

Instead of getting on me for playing around during the breaks instead of resting, he just let's me

loose.

What's the fun in that?

I rip out of my final spin and run with the crowd of girls on our toes, spinning into a high jump

split at the end of our step count.

"Tighter Maryia! Higher Jolie!"

Jac seems more frustrated now and we all push ourselves to the limit coming to the very last

pose.

I stop sharply infront of my partner Malcom who kneels with his hand out for me.

Giving him a slight smile, I put a hand in his before raising the other high in the air and leaning

forward so that my right foot stands vertical in the perfect pencil pose.

The other partners surround us in a half circle in many different poses and Jac gives a single clap

of his hand, meaning we can stop now.

I put my foot down and Malcom stands, throwing an arm around me.

Everyone circles around Jac now and he presses his tongue against his cheek with frustration.

"Some of you are holding back." He says this sharply with dissaproval clear in his tone. "That

won't be tolerated tonight. We don't have time to practice again without you being exhausted

before the show so rest up and go if you need, but be back at seven sharp!"

Instead of pulling us aside individually like he normally does, Jac storms out of the room,

presumably for his office.

"What's up his ass?"

I look to Malcom and shrug.

Walking to the edge of the room with our bags, I tune out the conversations of the other

ballerinas.

"Maybe he's just stressed about the show."

I begin taking off my pointe shoes and Malcom brings my foot onto his lap to crack the toes.

"I don't think so. We've done the nutcracker five times already. There's nothing to be stressed

about. Maybe he's on his period."

I pull my foot away from my friend and glare harshly. There are very few things I hate more than

men trying to degrade women or use womanly things to degrade other men.

It doesn't help that I'm on my cycle right now myself.

"I bet you didn't know that when a woman's on her period, her hormonal levels finally equal that

to which a man's are at all the time. So technically speaking, men are ALWAYS on their periods

and you just made fun of your entire existence."

Malcom's face goes slack and I know he's embarrassed.

"Nuh uh!"

I raise an eyebrow and pull a coverup over my leotard.

"Just because you deny it, doesn't make the facts any less true."

With that, I leave my brunette friend gaping on the ground while I grab my bag and exit the

room.

Why am I friends with him again?

I honestly don't know. He can be quite misogynistic at times.

"Flavia!"

I turn around and continue to walk down the hall backwards while my blonde friend Mitsy runs

to catch up.

I turn back the normal way when she reaches me and listen to her usual blabbering.

"I heard what you said to Malcom and oh my God! You should have seen all the guys faces who

had heard. They're definitely embarrassed now, but I think I have the answer to the origional

question! About why Jac is so strange today..."

We walk out into the parking lot and begin to cross the street to the coffee shop across the way.

"Alice overheard him in the hall and it turns out that some Russian guy bought Pavilion

Theatre!"

What?! My eyes widen and I stop in shock.

"Pavi-"

"Oh s**t!"

I'm shoved harshly forward and end up tripping over the curb and landing in the grass.

"Mitsy," I say with a growl.

"Sorry," she says from beside me while lifting me with her thin arms.

"There was a car coming."

I brush off my clothes and bag before thanking her, despite the displeasure of being knocked

down.

"Does this mean we're out of a job," I ask nervously as we walk in.

She shakes her head and sits at the tall table.

It takes a few tries, but eventually I jump onto the tall stool.

Mitsy holds back a snicker as my legs swing wildly, unable to reach the bar they should rest on.

In an attempt to cover her laugh, she continues.

"If we were going to be fired we wouldn't have the play tonight."

I silently agree and wait for the waiter to come take our orders.

Despite our performance not being cancelled, I'm still hesitant to believe this isn't it.

Maybe tonight is a curtesy.

All I hope is that I don't get fired from my first job. I've only been here three months and there is

no way I'm ever going back to my family.