The Missing Piece

Demetrius

“Moonlight Whispers was a delightful ballet choreographed by Arco Ballet resident choreographer, Isaac Senders…”

My eyes skimmed quickly through the reviews this morning. Some were very nice and complimentary, but others not so much. It was Isaac’s first time creating a full production on his own, and while it was an enjoyable show, it didn’t create the wow factor I knew he was capable of.

“The problem in the choreography was the repetition. If I had to see one more set of corps girls waving their arms like the wind, I would bend over and hurl. Isaac needs inspiration…badly…Teach the dancers to do something more than just wave their arms, please.”

Oof, that would probably piss Isaac off, though the review wasn’t wrong. Maybe he should travel a bit, see other shows outside our Phoenix bubble here. 

My mind naturally drifted to how I could help my packmate, but damn it was getting harder and harder to manage everyone’s moods. Isaac was growing more of a diva every month. Ever since Preston broke up with Adrienne, he’d been acting moody and distant. Lukas was fun to be around as always—we’d been best friends since high school. But even getting him to work was like pulling teeth these days. 

We needed an omega for the four of us. The cracks in our friendship and this pack were starting to show.

Just as I flipped to the next review, the sound of someone’s footsteps came barreling down the stairs. Judging by the angry stomping that joined me in the dining room, I could guess who it was without looking up.

“Can you believe this garbage?” Isaac said, waving his phone around. “They said I was uninspired!”

“But they also said it was a delightful ballet,” I shrugged, looking up from my phone. “They have to post something they didn’t like about the show or no one would read their posts.”

“Of course the girls sway their arms,” Isaac continued, not seeming to hear a word I said. “They’re the wind! How else would you demonstrate one being the wind?”

“Maybe they could make a blowing motion,” Lukas joked from the kitchen entrance, carrying a bowl of popcorn. He dropped down in the chair next to me, setting down the bowl. I shot him a quick look, warning him not to test Isaac today.

“There’s a reason we use the same gestures over and over again,” Isaac’s rant continued. “People understand common gestures. It’s why we don’t make up new words to describe things every week. People need a point of reference.”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair as Lukas started munching on the popcorn.

“You should be happy,” Lukas said, mouth full of food. “This was your first full-length professional production, and it didn’t bomb.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Isaac snapped sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest. “I was really aiming for mediocre above bombing, and I nailed it.”

I chuckled softly as Preston drifted into the dining room next. Of the four of us, he was the last to remain dancing onstage. Preston was one of the most talented male dancers I’d ever encountered, and we were lucky to have him with us—he could easily go off and join a larger company.

“What did the reviews say about me?” Preston asked, dropping into the chair across from me.

“They loved you,” Isaac replied. “You’re everyone’s darling dancer, congrats.”

Preston gave a satisfied shrug as Isaac dropped into the chair next to him. An uncomfortable silence grew between the four of us as we all sat at the table, unsure what to talk about. We’d known each other for years at this point, been a pack for five of them, but this pack just didn’t feel like it was pulling together. And we were all frustrated as hell, physically. How much longer were we going to wait…

“Adrienne casually mentioned joining the pack,” Preston said. “I told her to fuck off.”

“Your duet with her looked really awkward last night,” Lukas mentioned. “What happened with that lift?”

“I swear for as good as Adrienne is, she’s very unprofessional,” Preston replied. “She keeps doing very unpredictable things onstage, thinking I can read her mind or something. Last night, she added an extra turn out of nowhere, and I wasn’t able to adjust to it.”

“Yikes,” Lukas replied. “And she wonders why all her pictures come out poorly. I can’t always capture her fast enough.”

“Can I not be partnered with her anymore?” Preston asked, looking right at me. “It’s really awkward to dance with her.”

“We all fucking told you so when you started dating her,” Isaac said. 

I felt for Preston and his position, but Isaac was right. “Unfortunately, you and her are the two best leads we have. Who else would you partner with? Lucy is too short for you, and Sarah just informed me she’s pregnant. She’ll be out all next season.”

“Really?” Lukas asked. “That’s awesome for her, but we’ll have like no principals apart from Adrienne. Isn’t Lucy leaving us for another company?”

“Yep, she’s moving to Europe with her pack,” I replied. “We’re hiring more corps dancers for next season, though. Maybe one of them will surprise us with hidden talent.”

“Don’t you think we should hire another female principal?” Preston asked. His eyes were staring daggers at me, practically begging me to.

“I’d rather look at promoting one of the soloists upward,” I replied. “Nerissa has been doing great work. Susan’s been with us for a while, and we all love working with Millie.”

“Promoting from within is always nice,” Lukas added. “But it’d be a great headline to bring in some flashy new superstar…just saying.”

“Sure, but how are we going to afford it?” I asked. “We had to unscrew half the light bulbs at the beginning of the season to keep the electricity costs down. I can help support this company financially, but I really need it to start standing on its own legs here.”

That awkward silence returned to the table between the four of us. Preston picked at a piece of stuck food off the table while Isaac closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. 

“Where do you think we’ll be a year from now?” Lukas asked softly as he looked up to me. There were certainly layers to that question, one I wasn’t quite ready to answer yet.

“Imagine an omega sitting right here at the table with us,” Preston said as a smile spread across his face. “She could solve nearly all of our problems—no needed principal, easier funding…”

“And lots of sex,” Isaac said. “She better not be one of those prude omegas. Knowing Preston…”

“I definitely don’t want a prude omega,” Preston snapped. “I don’t even care about the sex or a relationship, I just want to dance with her.”

“When’s the next omega audition?” Lukas asked.

“Next weekend in California,” I replied. “There’s a few dancers in the area that have applied for the company. I was going to watch a few shows, see if any of them were any good.”

“What are the omega auditions like?” Lukas asked. “Do you just go around, sniffing girls?”

I burst out laughing at the thought. “God no, it’s just like any other audition, except every girl there is an omega, and I have to watch behind a plexiglass. After the audition is over, the omegas are excused from the room while the alphas are escorted in to see if any scents catch their attention.”

“Nah, I’m going to picture you sniffing each girls’ armpit in between combinations,” Lukas joked.

“It’d certainly help to avoid sitting through two hours of an audition,” I replied. 

***

The sound of plastic chairs being moved filled this little makeshift plexiglass room. It always felt strange to observe in these cubed rooms, like we were some aggressive predators not to be trusted around the dancers. Okay, that might actually describe some of the alphas around me, but them losing their cool was just embarrassing.

“Hey Tucker,” I waved as a familiar face took the seat to my right. “Back for another round?”

“You know it,” he said with a sigh. “How’s Arco Ballet?”

“It’s going well,” I replied. “We just finished our last production for the season. Nice to have a little break for the summer.”

“Yep, same with Concord Ballet,” he said, though his expression betrayed his answer a bit. “Pack’s struggling a bit, though.”

“It’s hard to wait for that perfect girl,” I replied. “My pack’s getting a bit antsy as well.”

“We’re thinking about settling if I can’t find a girl this audition season,” Tucker said. 

I glanced over to him, slightly shocked. Just like me, him and his pack had been searching for that perfect scent-matched mate to form a bonded pack of dancers. I could see the dull look of defeat in his eyes, not quite wanting to settle for anything less.

“Scent-matches are nearly impossible to find,” I said, trying to provide a bit of comfort. “I’m curious when my pack is going to force the conversation.”

Just as I was finished speaking, a younger alpha took the seat next to me, his scent a tad nervous as he shot me a quick glance. He pulled out a notebook and set it down in front of him, his hands trembling as he moved. Tucker and I threw a quick smile at each other before I turned to greet him.

“Greetings, I’m Demetrius,” I said, holding out my hand. “Artistic Director of Arco Ballet in Phoenix. I’ve not seen you here before. Is this your first time?”

“Mike,” the new alpha said, shaking my hand. “Director of Purchase Dance, Florida. Yeah, this is my first time.”

“Welcome,” I said, releasing our hand shake. “This is Tucker with Concord Ballet. We’ve been coming for several years now, so let us know if you have any questions.”

The sound of the studio door opening grabbed our attention as the room began to fill with dancers of various sizes and shapes, all wearing different colored leotards. Some were smiling brightly and flashing flirty eyes towards us alphas, others seemed terrified to be in this room. One thought struck me particularly hard though—they all looked so young.

I was thirty two, and these girls were all around eighteen to twenty years old. Every year I came back to these auditions, these girls looked younger and younger to me. There was no way I’d scent-match with someone this young, they were practically kids in my eyes. Mid-twenties would be fine, but not these girls.

I shot a glance over to Tucker, who had the same look on his face as I did. We gave each other that defeated nod, knowing this was probably the end with these auditions.

“Thirty five,” he whispered to me. “If I got my senior high school girl pregnant, our daughter would be in that room.”

“Thirty two,” I whispered back. “This is now too young in my eyes.”

“I bet they’re so talented,” Mike half whispered, leaning forward on the table before him. “One of them has to be my scent-match.”

I turned my head over to Mike who was making eyes with one of the flirty girls. Mike looked young, probably mid-twenties. Maybe he would find his scent-match.

Next, the instructor walked into the room and nodded to us at the alpha tables before turning his attention to the girls auditioning. Even if I didn’t find my scent-match in this room, maybe I’d find some strong dancers to add to the corps. I still had two open contracts to offer for next season.

The first combination of steps started with the room bursting out into movement. My heart sank even farther as I glanced over each dancer, one by one. 

It looked like there were sixty girls in this room, all spread out on the ballet barre, dancing together. And after thirty seconds of watching the room, I could probably eliminate half of them. 

Those three over there were way too thin—they’d probably be out of breath by the end of class. That girl in the red leotard kept pulling the bottom of her leotard higher and higher up her hip bones. Okay, I get that she wanted to look like she had long legs, but her leotard now looked like a thong up her cheeks—so unappealing.

Girls numbered three, seven, twelve, fifteen, twenty, twenty one, twenty three, and almost all of thirty didn’t have enough turnout in their legs—the amount their legs could rotate open from the hip socket. Not having enough turnout wasn’t exactly a deal breaker, but if a dancer didn’t use what they had correctly, they’d be highly prone to injury. And none of them were using what they had correctly.

I pulled out my notebook and opened it to a blank piece of paper. Slowly, I numbered the sheet from one to sixty. There wasn’t really a rush here as I was already disappointed in what I saw based on the first combination. 

The instructor moved on to the second combination, followed by the third by the time I was done with my numbers. Immediately, I crossed out the girls who looked unhealthy—I’d not spread that image in my company. Dancers needed to be toned and fit. 

Next, I crossed off the dancers who were using their turnout incorrectly. Hopefully with a few more years of training, those dancers would learn not to force positions, but instead work with their bodies.

That girl over there was dancing with bent knees where straight ones were required—off the list. This girl on the left barre kept fixing her hair while the instructor was talking. Three exercises in a row now, she didn’t remember the combination of steps to demonstrate—off the list. 

Those five girls in the back looked terrified to be in this room. Did they even want to dance? How would they get along with a full company if this room terrified them? I crossed them off the list.

Ten combinations of steps in and the dancers were moving off the barres and into center for more combinations. I looked down at my list—only ten numbers left that weren’t crossed off. Number ten, who was that…oh, right…red leotard girl. The company girls would tear her to shreds if she came in with that leotard up her cheeks like that. Was that a good enough reason to strike her out though? Probably not, but ballet was a very competitive sport.

The class proceeded onward with more combinations in the center. I was able to cross off three more names from dancers showing poor balance.

Mike leaned in close to me and whispered into my ear. “Damn, I wish I could hire half the room. They’re all so amazing.”

My eyes grew wide as I slowly turned to look at him. “Tell me more about Purchase Dance. How many dancers are you looking to hire this year?”

Mike puffed up his chest a bit as a confident smile spread across his face. “We currently have six dancers, but I just received a grant to hire two more.”

“Nice, sounds like you’re still growing a bit,” I said. “How long is your contract for your dancers?”

“Eight weeks!” Mike exclaimed. “But I think we can add two more next season for an outreach program.”

Eight weeks…that was terribly short, and nothing compared to Arco Ballet’s forty week contract. Every company had to start out somewhere though, and I personally knew how hard it was to get a company up and running.

“Glad to hear you're growing,” I said, reaching into my wallet for my business card. “Feel free to call me if you ever need advice.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ve got this,” Mike said, shoving my card into his pocket. 

With a shrug, I returned my attention back to the class. After a few more combinations where the dancers demonstrated turns and slow, adagio-like movement, they started jumping first in the center, before transitioning to the corner of the room to dance across the floor. Eight more dancers were crossed off the list—either their turns weren’t strong enough or they weren’t dancing with the music. Only two dancers remained now—red leotard girl and this other girl with a pink bow around her ballet bun. 

Both were decent but I’d need to see them dance with their pointe shoes on before I’d even consider offering them a contract. 

“I’m going to offer number ten a contract,” Mike said. He was licking his lips as he tapped his pen against his notepad. “She is gorgeous…a gorgeous dancer.”

“She does seem like one of the most gifted in the room,” I said. My eyes connected briefly with number ten who shot me a flirty little smile. 

Turning my attention away from her, I leaned over to Tucker. “See any dancers you like?”

“They all suck,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice. At least the plexiglass in front of us would prevent the dancers from hearing him. “I checked out thirty minutes ago.”

“Harsh,” I laughed, feeling a little sorry for the dancers. They at least showed up and were trying, so I’d give them kudos for that.

The instructor clapped his hands after the last combination finished. “Ladies, please exit the room and put on your pointe shoes. We’ll let our alpha guests enter the room now before we move into a thirty minute pointe demonstration.”

All sixty girls cleared the room, the sound of chatter and laughter flooding the hallway as they left. Once the dance room was completely empty, the instructor walked over to our plexiglass room and opened the door, inviting us out to inspect the scents the omegas had left behind.

For five years, I’d held out hope that I’d walk out to this room and catch the smell of my scent-match. I’d always wondered what she’d smell like—the guides said I’d know right away once I caught a whiff of her scent. 

This was the first year, however, that I was actually hoping not to find any matching scents. What if the girl we scent-matched with would never be up to our level of professionalism? The four of us said we could train an omega to be ready to dance with the company, but looking at these girls in this room…was that even possible?

Tucker, Mike, and I stepped farther out in the space along with the other twelve alpha directors looking for a scent-match. Each of us cautiously walked through the room, inhaling deeply through our noses, trying to catch anything in the room. Within two minutes, Tucker had rushed through the room, waving off the space as he walked back to the plexiglass room. After I cautiously cleared the whole room, I let out a sigh, shaking my head, though unsure if I was disappointed or relieved.

Turning back to face Mike, that look of disappointment was spread all over his face. 

“I thought for sure number ten would be my match,” he frowned, standing at the barre spot she had been standing at. “She kept sending me the sweetest winks all class long.”

“Even if she’s not your match, you could still hire her,” I suggested. “Though I’d be weary of dating an employee.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he softly replied. 

I walked up to him and clapped him softly on the back. “Don’t worry, it gets easier each year.”

“How many auditions have you attended?” he asked, looking back at me.

“This is my fifth one,” I said. “And I might be just about done here, but maybe you’ll find an omega for your company.”

His whole posture dropped as the weight of my words settled on him. Perhaps this whole thing was a farce, and only a very fated couple was ever meant to scent-match together and lead the dance world. Trying to find a scent-match like this would just not work for me anymore—I needed a woman to complete us, not just some random dancer who we dragged along to make this happen.

I turned to Tucker as a sad smile spread across my face. “I think I’m ready to go.”

“Not going to stay for pointe?” he asked, though he already had his backpack on his shoulder, ready to depart too.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I said. “I’ve got another studio audition coming up soon and I’m pretty confident I can pull from the academy to cover our remaining spots. We’re training better than what I saw today.”

“Want to grab a drink then?” Tucker asked.

“Maybe later tonight, but I’ve got a show to attend in a few hours,” I replied. “One of their featured dancers sent in a resume…thought I’d check her out while I enjoy something different for a change.”

Tucker held out his hand for our handshake. “It was good seeing you, Dem. I suspect this will be our last audition together, but you’re always welcome in Concord. Text me when you're done and we can meet up.”

“Will do,” I replied.

***

Ivy

“I’m nervous and I don’t ever get nervous,” I said to Bethany, seated beside me at the makeup mirror. “I have this jittery kind of energy running through me, like I’m going to explode or something.” We were sitting in the corps dressing room, preparing for tonight’s performance. In just a few minutes, I’d be called up to the stage, ready to perform to an audience of over three hundred people.

“You’ve got that director in the audience tonight, right?” Bethany asked as she brushed some eyeshadow on. 

“The Arco director said he’d watch the show sometime this weekend, but I’m more excited for Tom,” I said. “We’ve been dating for a few months now and he’ll be watching tonight.”

“Has he not seen you dance yet?” Bethany asked.

“Not onstage, though I’ve given him a few private shows,” I said with a slight smile. “I’ve got a good feeling about Tom. I think he could be long term material.”

“What does he do?”

I pressed my lips together, trying to recall the details of his work. “He works in insurance, like with houses and stuff, approving loans…I honestly don’t remember all the details. I kinda get glassy eyed when he’s telling me about his job.”

“Sounds like he makes good money, at least,” Bethany said. “Dating a boy in the corps makes me wonder how the two of us will support each other.”

I laughed, nodding my head in agreement. I’d never be caught dead dating another dancer—there would be too many egos involved in that relationship.

“Ten minutes to places,” the loudspeaker called out to the dressing rooms.

“That’s my cue,” I said. I stood from my chair and tested my pointe shoes, standing on the tips of my shoes to make sure my feet were ready. With one final look in the mirror, I waved to Bethany. “Merde!”

***

Demetrius

The house lights dimmed at the conclusion of the director’s curtain speech for the show. I glanced at my program one last time—Twisted River would be first for tonight’s performance, featuring Ivy Turin. Her resume had looked decent—good training school and experience in smaller companies. Her letter sounded hungry to advance her career, too. I only had corps contracts—the lower rank in the company—to give at the moment, but maybe she could be one of those dancers I’d promote from within. 

The main curtain rose to a set completely green with a beautiful forest backdrop projection. It was amazing what they could do with technology these days. Onstage, there was a dancer in a tight blue, form-fitting dress that had slivers of fabric hanging off it. That must be the girl I was here to watch. 

She stepped onto her pointe shoes, rapidly moving her feet as the music rumbled to life, her arms ever so flowy with the rhythm of the song. She had a nice body for dance…that much was apparent. And that smile of hers was pleasant too, not forced or buried under nerves—she looked genuine. 

The music picked up in tempo, along with Ivy’s moves. She darted across the stage in a series of turns—polished, yet strong and controlled. I bet if we worked with her more, those doubles turns could become triples.

She turned the corner and ran into a jump, sailing across the stage. Her legs pushed up past one hundred and eighty degree split in the air—that was pretty impressive. On the opposite side of the stage, her partner stepped out of the wings, standing and waiting for her to run to him.

He lifted her high in the air, positioning her in a press lift. Her back arched gracefully over his hand…why was he walking like a zombie, though? Who was this partner? She needed someone better…Preston wouldn’t walk like that. He’d make her soar and shine in the air.

I opened my program to jot down some notes, wanting to make sure I didn’t forget her presence. Nice, long lines…good turns and jumps…great expression…musical…

She lifted her leg up right next to her ear as her partner spun her around before pulling her into another lift.

Very flexible…

I was excited about this dancer, she was talented and her movement quality was beautiful. We’d start her off in the corps, train her up this coming season and prepare to move her up as a soloist. Maybe in a year or two, she’d be ready to take on principal roles, dancing with Preston. She was a good height for him, not too short like she’d be for me. She was small enough though, so I’d probably be able to lift her easily.

I quietly laughed to myself. I’d been retired from dance for four years now, why was I even thinking about whether I’d be a good fit for her or not. I mean, we could probably do the fun roles together where my taller height and larger build wouldn’t be an issue, but any technical part would require way too much bending on my knees…and they were refusing to bend more and more these days.

But again, why was I thinking about me? Was I even considering stepping back on the stage? I let that thought roll around in my mind for a bit. No, I wouldn’t want to step onstage with Adrienne, who was actually the right height for me. But she was a pain in the butt, not like this girl…Woah, I didn’t actually know anything about this girl, why did I think she’d be easier to work with? Pretty sure her resume said she was a beta, so I guess that was a hint.

Was I disappointed she was a beta? Maybe a little bit, but why? It’s not like I wanted to date her. But I did want to start dating again. I’d gone cold-turkey since leaving Cindy and Twin Stellar Ballet, but naturally, the urge to be physical was always there. Maybe after this, I’d get a drink downtown somewhere, find an alpha girl for the night before heading home. Get some of this anxious energy out before I get on my flight early tomorrow morning.

Ivy onstage was running into a large lift over her zombie partner’s head—very impressive. Her feet arched beautifully and the audience applauded her grace…they certainly weren’t applauding zombie boy. As the piece came to an end, zombie boy set Ivy down and led her to the front of the stage. She gracefully bowed, gently touching her fingertips to her heart in that sincere gesture of gratitude. And just for a split second, I could have sworn her eyes connected with mine. 

Green…her eyes were green. How very pretty.

***

Ivy

“You were absolutely beautiful,” Tom said, pulling me into a tight hug. “I can’t believe you got that much applause!”

I laughed, wiggling a bit in his hold before he finally let go of me. We were standing outside the security door to the theater, my ballet bag on my shoulder, and my heart ready to celebrate the last show of this run. 

“I’m glad you liked it!” I exclaimed, holding his elbows. “Tonight went really well!”

“Yeah, that thing you did with the one thing,” Tom said, trying to mimic one of my positions onstage. “That was cool.”

A small tug on the back of my jacket pulled my attention away from Tom. I turned to glance down at a young dancer, probably no older than seven years old, holding out a piece of paper. 

“Can you sign this for me?” the little girl asked.

With a smile, I nodded, kneeling down in front of her to meet her eye level. “Did you like tonight’s show?” I asked, taking the piece of paper and signing my name on it.

“Yes, I really liked you as the tree,” she said, causing me to laugh.

“She wasn’t a tree, sweety. She was a river spirit,” the girl’s mom added, gently touching her daughter’s shoulder.

“I think a dancing tree would’ve been cool though,” I said with a wink, handing the paper back to her. “Thank you for coming to the show!”

I watched them walk away for a bit before returning my attention back to Tom. “So, what was your favorite part?”

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Tom said. “It was all kinda neat. I liked the part where you were onstage.”

“Yeah, but what about the part where the forest spirits came to life and circled? I thought that mid-section looked really neat with the way they lit the stage,” 

“Honestly? I didn’t really like the rest of the show, it was pretty boring,” Tom said with a shrug. “I really only liked watching you.”

My heart sank a bit. I guess having a discussion about the show was out of the question, but at least he came to support me. “Well, I’m glad you came. It was very nice of you.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Tom shrugged again. He looked like he was about to lean in to give me a kiss when my phone buzzed with a message. I turned my head to look down at my emails while Tom kissed my cheek.

My heart pounded in my chest as I read the subject line of the latest email—Application for Arco Ballet Company. I’d almost completely forgotten the director was watching in the audience this weekend. If he’d actually come tonight, his response was so quick after the show, surely that wasn’t a good sign.

“What’s so interesting on your phone?” Tom asked, trying to take my phone from me.

“Stop! The director from Acro Ballet emailed me. He came to watch this weekend,” I replied, opening the email.

“So what? Can’t that wait for later?” Tom asked.

Ignoring him, I quickly read through the letter, my heart pounding harder and harder.

Dear Ivy Turin,

I just wanted to express my appreciation and gratitude for the free ticket to tonight’s performance of Twisted River. Your work tonight was wonderful, and I enjoyed the show. I’m happy to extend you a contract for next season with Arco Ballet Company if you are still interested in joining. I’ll be returning to Phoenix tomorrow, and will send further details later.

Congratulations on your performance, 

Demetrius Ivan

Artistic Director

Arco Ballet Company

I gasped, my eyes drinking in the words and rereading them over and over again. 

“Are we done talking?” Tom asked. “What’s so exciting in that email?”

I turned to Tom, my face beaming as I flashed my phone at him. “The director of Arco Ballet liked my performance and he’ll be sending me a contract for next season!”

“That sounds cool,” Tom said, smiling at my level of excitement. He took my arm and led me away from the security door, towards the parking garage across the street. “Is Arco Ballet like a different show or something?”

“It’s a better ballet company, much larger than this group and better funded,” I said. “This is so exciting!”

“Nice! Are they like a city over or something?” Tom asked. “All that driving might get annoying.”

My heart dropped once again as my excitement slowly ebbed. “Actually, Arco’s in Phoenix. I’d have to move.”

“Ah damn, that’s too bad, but it was nice of them to offer you the position,” Tom said with a shrug. “Keep trying and maybe you’ll find one that works.”

I blinked at Tom, my path forward seeming crystal clear. “I mean I don’t mind moving if it’s a step up for me and my career.”

“There’s tons of dance companies out there,” Tom said, folding his arms across his chest. “And California probably has half of them.”

“I don’t want a small company, though. I need to grow and expand as an artist. I want a challenge,” I said as we crossed the street. “Maybe we could do the long distant thing.”

“No way, that doesn’t work,” Tom said. “Look Ivy, you were pretty good, but you weren’t that good.”

“How could you say that?” I gasped, sending a side glare at Tom. 

“It’s not your fault, you’re a beta,” Tom shrugged. “You won’t even take my knot.”

I laughed, like the basis for my dancing was all based on whether or not I took Tom’s knot—his extra alpha male organ that sat on the base of his shaft. 

“Look Ivy,” Tom continued. “Those prime spots are reserved for alpha females—those who take what they want. You’re very meek and way too nice. Without me, who’s going to look out for you?”

“We’ve only been dating for a few months, and this is the first time you’ve seen me dance,” I stammered, my frustration growing with each word.

“But I can tell just by watching you onstage, you don’t have that alpha drive in you,” he replied. “That other girl, the lead in the end piece. I bet she’s an alpha. She glared a lot.”

We reached Tom’s car in silence. I tossed my bag in the backseat as I took the passenger’s seat next to Tom.

“Maybe it’s time to give up this whole dance thing,” Tom suggested. “It’s a fun hobby while you’re young, but what are you going to do once you’re finished?”

“Hopefully, that won’t be for a long time,” I said, folding my arms.

“You have to think about your future, Ivy,” Tom said. “This dancing, it’s like a hobby job that won’t amount to anything, and then you’ll be left with nothing.”

I stared out the window as the car backed up and drove out of the garage. Tonight had somehow gone from a great show, to an awesome greeting from Tom. Then came the amazing news about a potential new position, before finally crashing and burning into this.

“I didn’t want to have this conversation with you after your show,” Tom quietly said. “I really like you, Ivy. I think you’re an amazing person and I could see us having a life together. Which is why I want you to be realistic with what you want. Do you want to continue chasing this silly ballet dream all over the country? Or do you want some peace and stability with someone who likes you? An alpha who’s willing to take in a beta?”

The rest of the car ride continued in silence as I stared out the window. Was Tom right? Was this all some foolish dream I was chasing without any hope of making it a reality? Maybe, but how arrogant was he to suggest all of this after only seeing me perform once. He knew nothing of the ballet world, nor my potential talent, nor my actual hopes and dreams. All he knew was his insurance thing and stability. Those things were important, but I needed something more.

The car pulled up in front of my apartment, idling next to the sidewalk.

“Should I park and come inside a bit? I think we should celebrate how amazing you did tonight,” he said, turning off the car. “We can celebrate that job offer too, even if it isn’t the right move for you.”

“No, that’s okay,” I said, turning my attention to Tom. He flashed me a smile and a knowing nod. 

“This is why I like you—you’re reasonable and level headed,” he said. “You understand how the real world works.”

“No, I mean you don’t have to come upstairs,” I clarified, reaching for my bag from the back seat. “We’re done.”

“Oh fucking hell, seriously? Over this?” Tom asked, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. “After I sat through your little show for you?”

“I need someone who can support me, and that’s clearly not you,” I said, opening the car door. “Have a nice life.”

Tom began to shout at me, but I couldn’t hear it anymore as I slammed his car door shut. Turning towards my apartment, I smiled, strolling in towards the front door. I already felt a lot lighter, shedding this unnecessary baggage. I didn’t need anyone to redefine my goals in life just because they didn’t understand them. It’d truly take an act of god to redirect me from my goals, and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

***

Demetrius

“Tucker! You made it,” I said, nodding to Tucker as he took the stool right next to me. 

“How was the show tonight?” Tucker asked.

“Really good, actually,” I replied. “I think I found one of our corps dancers for next season. She had nice lines.”

“That’s good,” Tucker said. He set his phone down on the table, folding his arms.

“You seem agitated, what’s up?” I asked.

Tucker sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I just reported in with my pack about today’s audition. They’re ready to pull the plug on this whole finding a scent-matched omega thing. As much as I hate to admit it, Concord Ballet will not be the company to bring back a scent-matched couple.”

“Sorry man,” I said, patting him on the back. “I’ll probably be right behind you. Is your pack at least going to stay together?”

“I think so,” he said. “There’s a couple of omegas in the company I could see us becoming better acquainted with, and I think having one in general will help the pack.”

“That’s good,” I nodded, taking another sip. “Maybe my pack should settle, too. I just came out of a divorce before starting Arco Ballet company.”

“Oh damn,” Tucker laughed as the bartender set down a drink for him. “You didn’t want an omega, you wanted to hide from another connection.”

“You might be on to something there,” I chuckled, feeling exposed a bit. “But my pack wants this dream badly—it’s like we can see it taking shape soon, as if it were tangible and within reach.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Tucker said, but he was no longer talking to me. His eyes were looking across the bar at a cute girl in a red dress. “Anyways, I think I might have found my entertainment for the night.”

I raised my glass to him as he stood and walked across the bar, starting up a conversation. 

Impressive, I thought. I wondered if I still had it in me. I looked around the bar, spotting a few interesting girls until my eyes settled on a short, brown haired girl with green eyes, wearing a smooth green dress. She almost reminded me of that dancer onstage tonight. But this girl was much taller, not like Ivy.

I reached for my cup and stood, walking over to her at the bar and leaning against the counter.

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked, gesturing to her empty glass.

“Sure, apple martini,” she said. “My name’s Chrissy.”

“Dem,” I added, taking the seat next to her. I motioned to the bartender to bring her another drink. “Live here or visiting?”

“Visiting…you?” 

“Same,” I said. “Here for the night before I head back home.”

She nodded in approval with a slight smile. Her eyes drifted down to my left hand. “No wedding ring, right?”

“No ring, just an open pack. No omega,” I replied. “You?”

“Single alpha female,” she said, nodding a thanks to the bartender as he set her drink down. “What are you looking for tonight?”

I paused, looking at her. What was I looking for tonight? 

“Oh you know, a little something fun,” I said. “Something to remember the city by.”

“I see,” she said. “And will you find that with me?”

I reached for her hand, gently rubbing it. But oddly enough, my mind began to scream while my skin crawled. This didn’t feel right, and shame began to wash over me, which was odd as I’d had one night stands before.

I slowly pulled my hand away, suddenly not sure I wanted this anymore. My eyes searched hers as her face dropped in disappointment.

“I thought you said you didn’t have an omega,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you’re bonded, just say so.”

“There’s no one, I swear. I wasn’t lying,” I replied, sitting back a bit.

“Please, I’ve seen that look on men trying to cheat before,” she said. “You think you can push past the irritation and annoyance growing inside your head, but the bond won’t let you.”

“There’s no omega!” I laughed, holding my hands up defensively. What the hell was she talking about?

“Listen, you can lie all you want,” she said, standing up and taking her drink with her. “But I’ve seen this too much and I’m not wasting my time here.”

I watched her walk away, carrying the fifteen dollar drink I’d just gotten her. I slapped a fifty on the counter, disappointment creeping through me. What was I anxious about though? Chrissy thinking I’m cheating or not being able to find some comfort tonight? Did I actually want her though? She wasn’t wrong, I felt a weird vibe when I touched her. She obviously wasn’t right for me.

I tossed back the rest of my drink, then stood up, shooting a quick wave goodbye to Tucker from across the bar. His hand was already on the thigh of the girl he was chatting with—lucky bastard. 

Back to the hotel room, then back home to the pack.

At least I found us a new corps girl for the season.