Tears No One Can See Chapter 1, a sky dancers fanfic

Tears No One Can See

Author's note: This is a short approx. 3-5 chapter fic about Skyla's point of view during the episode "Lonely Heart", which our dear friend AlyssC01 has so generously uploaded on You Tube for our enjoyment. It might make sense to watch the episode before reading this fic…but if you'd like to do the opposite, that's cool too.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sky Dancers…period.

Shameless advertising: I just got finished with my very first Sky Dancer's AMV! It's on You Tube now, and I'll extraordinarily proud of it. It's a Skyclone/Skyla AMV set to the song "Hellfire" from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Check it out, and I would be very happy.

Well, enjoy and please review!

Luvs, as always,

Priestess Mayumi

Chapter One:

The alarm clock beeped incessantly as the time, 5:30 AM, flashed across the screen. The form in the bed stirred sleepily as the alarm roused the mind to full consciousness. Strangely, the clock did not stop beeping. The owner, usually promptly aroused by the clock, had been seduced by the notion of lying in bed all day and simply letting the world roll by. Her wake-up caller, of course, could not allow this and kept screaming at her with shrill syncopated tones.

Finally Skyla, fed up with the whole situation by now, reluctantly rolled over toward the nightstand where the clock was and unsuccessfully tried to reach the "off" button. It was too far to be reached from her current position and she was too lazy to move herself closer. Ultimately, resolved to get rid of the unwanted ruckus, she swung her arm as far as she could over the bedside, tipping the nightstand over and knocking the clock monumentally to the ground where it promptly shut up.

Her satisfaction was short-lived as she realized that if the clock was broken, she would have to replace it.

Skyla pulled herself up to a sitting position on her bed. Her neck ached and she reached her hand sleepily up to rub it. Her neck was always strained in the morning if her night's sleep had been restless, and last night certainly had been.

Why is that? She thought to herself. She didn't have any need to be stressed. There were no impending tours to schedule, no recitals to plan, and no competitions to practice for. It was mid-September and…

Wait. That's exactly right. It's mid-September. Does that mean…

The dance instructor jumped out of the bed with new fervor and rushed to the calendar hanging next to her mirror, only to have her suspicions confirmed.

Today is the 16th of September. That means…that tomorrow…

She caught herself just before cursing under her breath. She was shocked at herself. She knew better than to swear like that. But a part of her couldn't help it. It seemed that September 17th came earlier every year.

Skyla had only ever tasted alcohol once, on a whim as a stupid teenager. There was a reason why she hadn't gotten closer since. She had found out that she could not, without exception, hold alcohol. The hangover seemed to last forever and it seemed like there were demons with razor sharp knives beating around her skull.

That hangover had been like a candle before an inferno compared to what she was feeling now. Maybe, she thought, that's why people get drunk when they feel crummy…because it can't hurt them much more than what's already wrong with them.

She stared over from the calendar to her bed, half longing to just lie down and go back to sleep, but she knew she couldn't. She was already up…there was no point in trying to get back to sleep.

Skyla stumbled hazily over to her closet and opened it, pulling out her favorite green dress and folding it gently over her arm. She then walked to her bed and sat down on it, placing the dress on the bed beside her. Her light, pink linen chemise slipped right off of her shoulders and onto the floor and the soft green dress went over her body like cool water. Her brain was on autopilot now, simply moving through her routine like a well-programmed machine. All the time, that horrible word was echoing through her head like a curse.

Tomorrow

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Skyla moved through the morning like a zombie, half-consciously shouting out tempos and counts. Her head was pounding and her body was so numb that she could barely even feel it moving.

She didn't feel like eating during her lunch break, so she just wandered aimlessly through the academy's gardens. It was only when she paused to stare at one of the sundials in the garden that she half-woke from her trance of:

Tomorrow

Lunch was over now, and her Sky Dancers would already be warming up for their afternoon session with their teacher. She needed to get there fast before she was late.

So Skyla decided to take a shortcut through the bushes. She would probably get some greenery stuck in her long, ash-blond hair, but she couldn't be late.

"Hey, Angelica! You're looking totally fresh!"

That gave Skyla a start. That is Breeze's voice! What is he doing outside of warm-ups? He's usually always there way ahead of time.

She brushed the last branches in front of her aside and looked through the clearing to see Angelica and Breeze on the path. Angelica was sporting a lovely violet-red dress that looked like quite a recent purchase. The dress showed off her figure and made her look taller and more statuesque. She looked quite lovely…and Breeze obviously agreed.

"New outfit," Angelica replied. "Hot off the rack."

Breeze looked the young country dancer up and down again and gave an impressed whistle. "And, hot on you!"

Angelica blushed proudly at the compliment. "I did the 'mall thing' this weekend. My parents spoil me rotten when I go back home."

That remark sort of struck Skyla in a hard place. Her own parents had died when she was quite young and she had been raised by the palace servants and unofficially adopted by Skyler's father, King Skyhawk. The king had been a good friend of her mother's and had treated her like his own daughter.

And she, too, had been spoiled rotten by the royal family.

But Skyhawk was gone as well. He had passed on several years ago. She hadn't felt the hurt for his death in so long…but now it was stinging her heart.

"Yes, siree," Breeze continued as he circled Angelica, "you're definitely scoring with this dude!" The young man flashed a thumbs-up at her and continued with, "It breaks my eye."

Something caught at Skyla's throat. Skyler had used to throw her sweet compliments exactly like Breeze was doing now, even after they had gotten married. He didn't have to…and some of the crazy fashions she had dared to try as a teen had been…well, less than flattering. But that hadn't mattered to him. He told her that she made everything she wore look beautiful.

She'd always fallen for it, too.

"Keep this up," giggled Angelica, "and I'll carry your dance bag to class."

Skyla had decided that this needed to stop right now. "Speaking of class…" She stepped out of the bushes and confronted her two young students. "Shouldn't you two be spending a little more time at the ballet bar?"

Looking flustered, Breeze and Angelica stepped out their intimate position and Breeze floundered to come up with a response. "I…was just about to."

"Gee, Dame Skyla," slurred Angelica, a picture of innocence. "I only wanted to take a break…"

"Until Breeze stopped you and told you how 'fresh' you looked." Skyla chastened her strictly. "The only result is that you're both going to perform far belong my expectations of you at the next audition."

Angelica and Breeze's eyes were widening in surprise. They'd never seen Dame Skyla like this before. Even Skyla was surprised at the words coming out of her own mouth, but she had already let those harsh words slip out. Besides, they should be in practice and not socializing. This is an academy…not a day-care.

Walking past her students, and with the image of Skyler pushing her out of his arms for the last time, and that terrible word:

Tomorrow

…ringing through her head, she turned and added one last parting shot.

"Maybe you'd better decide what's more important, Angelica. Getting compliments…or getting a career."

Skyla sped away before her students had time to respond to her uncharacteristically hurtful comments.