Karkat Vantas stood in the dressing room, shoes neatly on the vanity as he pressed powder onto his shiny nose.
"This is it, Karkat! This is opening night!" His partner squealed from a few feet away. She, too, was applying her heavy stage makeup. Karkat sighed, he might have looked calm on the outside, but his stomach was knotted with nerves on the inside.
"Yeah it is, isn't it?" He grumbled, putting down the puff, and grabbing a can of hairspray to cement his thick black locks into place. They had been practicing for months, but he still couldn't believe he had gotten the main male role. Karkat inhaled deeply, before the white mist of sticky spray washed over his hair and shoulders.
"You're going to be great." His partner whispered, her voice soft as she wished him good luck. Karkat had been dancing with Terezi as long as he could remember, and having graduated from dance school only a few months prior, it only made sense to stick together. Karkat grabbed his shoes, and sighed, holding them tightly as he made his way to costuming.
It was two hours of hell in the costuming department, the end result of which was Karkat stuffed into a bright red, itchy costume that he was sure would make him overheat. Terezi's light teal costume contrasted his completely. Blood and Tears were the characters they were portraying in this production. The storyline was a hazy fantasy, with turns and twists that were very different from anything he had ever danced in before.
The red eyeshadow dusted over Karkat's orange eyes matched the lipstick soon applied over his lips. He got into his ballet shoes, golden skin rippling with toned muscles, and headed upstairs to the stage area, where he would be waiting, yet again, for the cue for his dance. His stomach was knotting itself up again, but he knew he knew his dance. He could waltz out there, and his muscles would kick in, memory and training working together to perform seamlessly.
The stage lights dimmed, and the audience hushed, the big golden curtain stood dauntingly as the darkened stage was set with props. He watched as Terezi silently moved into position, leg propping up, and body contorting to its pose. The orchestra stuck up, and the curtain rose, lights illuminating the liquefied movements. The music was slow, and somber, dark blue lights creating casts of living shadows into her skin. With one violin key change, the tempo increased, purple lighting struck, and then he was on stage.
His legs carried him on his own, joining in the elegant dance of push and shove. Near and Far, death and life. Feet placed themselves, arms shifted, and lifted, and they danced. Oh did they dance. The audience gasped loudly as Karkat grabbed Terezi's waist, lifting her high into the air, one leg a perfect 90-degree angle out behind him. Karkat fought the urge to smile, this was only the first scene, and already they were getting a response. When the lights dimmed, Karkat still holding Terezi over his head, after he had slowly sank to one knee, shedding a sense of glory onto his partner, he placed her gently on flat feet. Standing, they darted off the stage as the crew came out to change props.
"That was amazing, Karkat!" Terezi said, holding his arm while her taller partner drank from a bottle. He had beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and when he pulled the bottle away, a rare, gorgeous smile crossed his lips.
"It was all for you, my dear. My job is to make you look like an absolute queen, okay? That's what we've been fucking practicing for the past five months. The Queen of Mind, protected by her valiant Blood Knight." Karkat teased, elbowing Terezi lightly. They got ready for the next scene, more characters now joining them on the stage.
It was nearing the last scene, Karkat's and Terezi's final dance. They got into position, Karkat holding Terezi with one arm, her back curved over his arm, only inches above the floor. His legs were splayed wide, opposite arm extended behind his back, and arm muscles twitching. The lights went up, and the music began, the same somber tune at the start. Karkat gently listed Terezi to her feet, and they glided away from each other, spinning around the stage until they met again. Their dance was going marvelously, and Karkat was preparing for their final big stunt.
Terezi's hips met his hands, and he plucked her up, holding her gently before they parted, Terezi tossed lightly, leaping away, but something went horribly wrong. As Terezi landed, her ankle rolled, and a sickening SNAP echoed hauntingly through the place. The music stopped, and Terezi screamed loudly in pain.
Karkat Vantas watched as his partner was rushed off the stage, lights dimming, as were his eyes. This was it. He had hurt his partner. His heart thumped loudly before feeling like it had been crushed. His vision tunneled, and his vision went out, just like the light of his dreams.
After the incident, Karkat stopped dancing professionally. He still practiced, however, in his studio at home. It was something he couldn't just forget. Terezi couldn't dance after the incident, so why should he continue performing? After 4 years of not dancing, Karkat heard a knock on his door, and opened it to find his neighbor, and best friend Gamzee standing with a bundle.
"Gamzee, you have to stop getting my fucking mail." Karkat snorted, taking the rubber-banded stack of letters. Gamzee let himself in, and Karkat gracefully kicked the door shut. He shuffled through his mail, and found a slightly yellowed piece of paper, sealed with a red wax stamp. His eyebrow arched, and he peeled away the seal, unfolding the thick paper. The scrawling script inside flew over his eyes quickly.
"Dear Karkat Vantas,
We've watched you for a long time as a prestigious dancer. You've remained at the top of our list for instructors since you graduated from the Alternia Dance Academy. We would like to offer you a position here at Prospit School for Performing Arts as an instructor of Ballet."
He kept reading the letter, getting the information about the school. He set down the letter, and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, heaving a big groaning sigh. He picked up his cellphone, and punching in the number.
"Yeah, hello. This is, uh, Karkat Vantas… I was calling about the position you offered?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Vantas! We'd be pleased to have you!" Gamzee watched his best friend jabber on into the phone for a few more minutes, and then flip it closed, a small smile passing his lips.
"Gamzee, looks like I'm going to be dancing again."
"Again? Motherfucker, you never really stopped…" Gamzee pointed out, and Karkat shrugged. He had accepted a position as a dance instructor, and maybe a fresh start.
The next day, Karkat drove the short half hour to Prospit School for Performing Arts. The woman who ran it met him, she had short hair, and striking green eyes.
"My name is Callie, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vantas." She said warmly, and Karkat nodded.
"Call me Karkat, Callie. Mr. Vantas was my crab of a dad." He joked, and was escorted inside by the small woman. He was given the grand tour, the whole building an old brick structure, with 4 floors including the basement. Callie led him up the stairs to the top floor, and into a huge room that had a small, carpeted platform to one side. There were two doorways that led to separate bathrooms and changing areas.
The room was well equipped with bars, and mirrors, plus a deluxe sound system. Karkat found himself smiling, and put down the small duffle bag he had brought with him.
"Well, Karkat, this is where you will be teaching. You have a range of classes to teach, from smaller children, Ballet 2, and a few more advanced classes, Ballet 4, 5, and 6. I hope you will get adjusted well, and I hope the drive isn't terribly long." Callie explained, still smiling her sweet smile. Karkat smiled at her, and shook his head.
"Not at all, Callie. This is spectacular! Do you mind if I," he gestured to the empty room, "get a feel for it all?"
"Not at all! Take as long as you need. You start next Monday." Callie was gone in a flash, and Karkat stepped onto the slightly padded gray floor. The vinyl felt good under his sneakered feet. After changing into a pair of tights, and a tee shirt, he slipped on his shoes, and placed a CD into the music system, and pressed play.
He stretched himself out on the bars during the first few tracks, and then took a long stride out into the room. His feet moved themselves in a routine he thought he had long forgotten, a scene from the Nutcracker. He danced slowly, taking in the feel for the floor, the bumps and grooves, and the dimensions of the room. He was doing more than dancing; he was learning his new territory, and preparing himself the battlefield.
Karkat introduced himself to a few other instructors before he left, the Hip Hop instructor was named Dirk Strider, and Kanaya Maryam taught Modern. He sat in his car, a huge smile on his face, although he wasn't dancing as much, he was still back, and it felt great.
It was only Friday when he first visited Prospit, so Karkat spent Saturday and Sunday hauling his equipment to the school. He stacked CD's neatly, and lined spots on the floor with different coloured electric tape. He covered the edges of the Ballet bars with fleece, and Band-Aids to protect his students against the harsh corners. On the small shelf where his extensive CD collection sat, he placed a small photograph of Terezi, a sad memento, but one necessary.
Monday came quicker than he expected, but at 7am Karkat stood, ready to meet his first class of students, one of the more advanced classes, Ballet 5. A stream of boys and girls filed in, all holding themselves with either pride, or with a sheer lack of confidence. They looked at Karkat awkwardly, and he stood tall, hands on his hips.
"I'm your new teacher, my name is Karkat Vantas." One girl, a blonde with black lips stared right at him.
"The Karkat Vantas?" She asked, a thin eyebrow arching high in skepticism.
"The one and only." He shrugged, and quickly glanced at the sheet of named with photos. The girl was named Rose Lalonde.
"So you're my Ballet 5? Bunch of scrawny, gawky teenagers if you ask me." Karkat huffed, looking over each kid. They all shuffled awkwardly under his intense orange eyes, and black hair. "Everyone onto the platform, I want to see what you guys can do. Everyone should have performed before, am I right?" The kids nodded as they made their way to the raised area.
"Alright, first up is…" He looked at his sheet again, pulling one name from the rest, "Jade Harley." A girl with a tight black bun stood up, a pair of glasses perched on her nose securely. She stepped off the platform, and stood in front of her new instructor.
"You know a routine?" he asked with an unintentional snap in his voice.
"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot." She snapped back, and Karkat smirked, walking over to his CD's.
"What show, and what track?"
"Swan Lake, Act 2 scene 2." She said, and Karkat found the CD quickly. He popped it in, and played the track, turning to observe. He watched her fluid movements with judgmental eyes, taking in each step and critiquing her frame in his mind. He let her dance, and then pulled down Rose Lalonde.
Her dance style was nearly identical to Jade, and so was every other girl. Karkat frowned deeply when he began calling the boys, as it seemed the school was processing mechanical clones of dancers, and no real freedom was displayed.
John Egbert was the first dancer to catch his eye. His face held boredom, and his movements did too, but there was something… there. Karkat took in the boy, around 18, with black hair and blue eyes that pierced the soul. His body was an upside down triangle, wide shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, and long legs, even in distance. His arms hit a little past mid thigh, with large hands. He was muscular, but wasn't applying himself. He had something Karkat hadn't seen in any other dancer, the proper frame, and talent to go with it.