Sofia hates Julia passionately.
She hates all in this German girl: her haircut, her awful roaring accent, her habits.
Fifi.
She spits toothpaste with water out disgustedly and then waters it away. Her lips are covered with a sticky bitter peel of Julia's cigarettes, and eyes water because of tobacco smoke of Marlboro.
What a stupid name! Fifi. Like a dog nickname.
Healthy life wasn't her creed, but she will blame herself for such a weakness led to the tear marathon, tobacco smoke and cheap Hungarian porn that made her vomit in a toilet until morning. After all, smoking was harmful to her lungs and she's known that but couldn't do anything. And Julia has always noticed that due to Sofia's pant and liked to joke about it.
What a bitch. And for her, it all was the same. Sofia guesses that Julia will breathe smoke soon.
Her lips are bitter. Like a wormwood.
Coffee doesn't help to wake up but make her drink more it. Like a very expensive and exclusive drug. If there were punishment for drinking coffee Sofia would be all her life in a prison. Oh yeah, coffee is a drug.
Her feet hurt, and blisters bleed.
She wishes she could never see this barre again and could never exercise with it. But then her role will be played by that stupid burring nazi. Though Julia always gets pissed when someone calls her nazi.
So funny.
Sofia hates Julia because she is always better than she. She's always gotten all too easy. She's always done all too great. She's been too German.
'How, holy gods, can you live in such a shit?'
Firstly, Sofia wanted to take offence but then realized that she indeed need to clean up her living room. But, unfortunately, since her last mate had left her she didn't have any time to tidy.
Daniel was too good. And Sofia doesn't like when somebody does something better than she. As and Julia.
They were similar. Two absolutely different and absolutely similar girls.
'Are you all equal in Germany? Well, unisex and all such shit?'
Sofia knew that Julia hates when someone tells her that. Sofia knew that Julia tries to be a girl. And Sofia knew that Julia hates to be a girl.
'And my brother…'
O yeah. Julia knew that Sofia always gets pissed when she tell about her brother. And she liked to talk about him. You can do anything for a man that you love.
Taxi stops too sharply, and Sofia finds her coffee on her blouse. Maybe it's for better. Because no one can drink six coffee cups in an hour. Even Sofi. Taxi driver tries to say sorry, but she doesn't listen to him and leaves the car throwing some dollars.
Oh, gods! Julia isn't supposed to watch her in such an awful way.
Shit. Julia's already practicing. Black swan. Like another mockery. Like another effort to show how different they are.
White and black.
Soldier and musician.
Julia doesn't see how Sofi comes to her dressing room. And Sofi doesn't see how mop of white hair appears in the dressing room.
Fifi?
Again. Again that stupid name. Call your dog such name!
Sofia keeps silence and doesn't turn around, trying to unbutton her dirty blouse. Coffee is still steaming and she can feel the pleasant scent of it. And Julia sets her hands on her shoulders.
These hands could touch her eternally. Too soft and accurate. She doesn't deserve such hands. They can't belong to such a… girl.
There is a sharp reversal, and bright scarlet eyes stare at her attentively, noticing a huge brown spot on her chest. There is so familiar grin. The scent of Julia's cigarettes has already messed with the scent of coffee. But there was something else.
The perfume.
Sofi gave Julia this perfume last Christmas. Oh god...
Adroit hands take her from her thoughts, and Sofi notices that all buttons are already unbuttoned because of cold light wind against her skin. They need to ask for aeration repairing. Otherwise, she can get cold.
Clumsily, Sofia thanks German and tries to step back from her. But black swan always gets all. And she will get her white queen. No matter what it takes.
It's too hot in the room, and she finds herself being set up on the desk. Julia knows her too good, so she won't let her go. Not now. And Sofia knows herself too good to let herself defeat.
It's a lost fight.
Sweet perfume tickles her nose, and her lips are dark-red after Julia's kiss. Her hand have taken Sofia's body as their property long ago and study it impudently. And Sofia doesn't try to resist. Because every white swan needs his own dark sid.
The temperature is rising, so aeration doesn't help at all, her voice doesn't hides her feelings, and Julia still smiles and doesn't say anything after her coming in the dressing room. Their colleagues don't come in because they know about their relationships. So no one will interfere.
Julia bites her light smooth skin of the neck and leaves there bright red marks. Her forehead is sweating. Julia's fingers are long and thin. As if she was a pianist. Sofia always liked pianists. She loved Daniel because of that too.
Julia plays her. She plays her soul, she discovers her, studies her. Julia knows Sofia better than Sofia knows herself.
And Sofia hates her for that.
Mobile phone rings softly in a bag, but Julia doesn't allow her to take it and hits her hand roughly. German hisses something in her ear continuing her pleasurable tortures. Though Sofia cannot understand a thing. Maybe it's because of her accent. Maybe because she doesn't care.
Her chest rises as high as it's possible with her bra and Julia wrinkles. She always gets annoyed because of this stupid unnecessary thing. Well, it's her opinion. Her hands reach clasp and, in the next moment, she throws bra in the depth of costumes and old clothes.
Sofia's breast is beautiful. Not like Julia's. And Julia wants to kill Fifi for that, this little submissive dog that tries hard to prove that she can live without her master.
Julia likes to rule Fifi. She likes to see how she squirms under her lips leaving bright sucks on her breast. She belongs only to her. And everyone's supposed to know that. She likes to watch her half-opened mouth, that little sharp tongue that always says such many filthes. Almost like hers.
She likes to watch Fifi weak, faintly moaning her name and praising to stop this torture. She likes to put her in embarrassing situations in front of their colleagues. Because theatre is a very sophisticated thing. And everyone will talk about their little enjoyment in the dressing room during dinner pause.
Sofia begs her to stop and shivers at every movement of German.
It's a little price for victory.
Black swan concedes only ones.
Her skirt is ripped. Her legs sparkle with shame that Sofi wants to forget. She wants not to hear that blaming voices in her head but she can't. Julia smokes. Again. She doesn't care that that is banned. Though no one really cares about that. They even turn off the fire alarm.
Are you really think you can escape from me?
A crumpled ticket to New York is thrown on the table. Sofi tries to hide view from Julia, but the German grabs her chin demandingly, nipping a cigarette with her teeth, and rise her face. She can read almost what the German doesn't say in her eyes. But Sofia understands all.
She belongs to her.
Darkness always has to have light.
Julia walks away as suddenly as she came here, leaving Sofia alone with her thoughts and feelings. It would be better if she also left her a book Thousand And One Way to Kill. It would be surprisingly generous.
Sofia turns herself to the mirror and wipes the tears away, smudging cheap mascara. She needs to buy a normal maquillage.
Points shoes squeeze her legs, pressing band in wounded skin. Black tracks of tear and hatred are running down her cheeks. She hates only one person in this world. And she's supposed to be next to him yet ten rehearsal hours.
Sofi doesn't know when Julia managed to change her clothes and went on stage.
Julia seems not to notice scarlet blood that leaks through soft pointe shoes and carries on dancing.
Sofi hates her passionately.
Yet she already likes the name. Fifi.