Hello, everyone. This is shorter than usual, I'll admit, but it still turned out okay, so please enjoy the story!
WARNINGS: INCEST (WHICH IF YOU'VE READ MY OTHER CARTER/FRANKIE STORIES, YOU'VE PROBABLY ALREADY FIGURED THAT OUT)
Disclaimer: I do not own Benji, 2018 or the characters or anything that you recognize. I also don't own San Lake.
Swan Lake
"Are you nervous?" Carter asked as he brushed the soft bristles of the make up tool over her face, coloring in her pale, baby soft cheeks with the rose colored blush. He had already applied blue eye shadow to her eyes to match her costume, making the colors of her eyes pop (as their mother put it) by combing mascara into her eyelashes, making them darker and more prominent.
"A little," Frankie admitted as Carter placed the make up brush down and picked up the bright red lip stick.
"Part your lips," he stated, and she did so, allowing him to run the lip stick over her lips, painting them a pretty shade of red. "Now for your hair," he added, and Frankie took that as her cue to spin around, allowing Carter to brush her hair, still damp from her shower, and the water droplets cascaded down her brown locks, sticking in the hair brush and straightening her curls for the time being.
"You don't have to be nervous," Carter told her. "I saw your practice. You have nothing to be worried about."
"It's just…" Frankie swallowed. "This is my first performance since… Syd and Titus. My dance group… well, the good thing is they've let up with the teasing about us, but if possible, how… awkward they are around me is even worse. The girls still look at me weirdly. The boys don't even talk to me. Even the teacher won't look me in the eye. I don't think any of them really know what to say."
Carter nodded. "I can't blame them. If it hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't know what to say either. I know it's hard to get back on the horse, so to speak, after something like this, but trust me when I say that you are going to kill it out there," he promised her, placing the finishing touches on her hair and gently turning her around.
He lightly wiped some excess lip stick off her bottom lip before leaning forward to pull her into a kiss.
Frankie felt all of her nerves melt away as she kissed her boyfriend, and for the first time all night, she felt like she could breathe, and she gave a little sigh of content as they separated after a moment.
Carter reached to the side and handed her a hand held mirror.
"Take a look," he told her with a small smile.
Frankie glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and she allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she stared at her perfectly done make up and her brown hair, which Carter had pinned up in a perfect ballerina bun and sprinkled sparkles over her hair, delivering a dose of hair spray to keep it in place.
"I look… beautiful," she murmured.
Carter reached over and pushed the mirror down, forcing her to look him in the eye.
"You always look beautiful to me," he promised before leaning forward again to press a kiss to her lips.
The red curtains slowly slid open, blankets of velvet disappearing to allow the stage to come into view.
Smooth but deep music began to play softly- a combination of violins, piano, and other instruments that blended together to weave a lovely melody that bounced off of the walls and reached every ear in the gymnasium, including the ears of Carter Hughes, who sat in the fourth row of chairs, surrounded by an audience of supportive parents, grinning friends, and the occasional crying baby.
A group of kids crept onto the stage, moving in perfect harmony as they twirled onto the stage. Most of them were girls, all wearing outfits of silver with splashes of pink, blue, and green, and the three boys that joined them donned black tights, white shirts, and vests of different colors, ranging from brown to green or a mixture of different colors to illustrate the character they portrayed.
Frankie was the third girl from the left hand of the stage, and her teeth shined like pearls under the stage lights. She looked truly happy to be there, not nervous at all. Sparkles highlighted her hair and painted the skin on her face, mostly around her eyes and dusting the top of her cheeks. She wore a silver outfit with a pink skirt and white tights. Her ballerina bun sat on top of her head, staying in place even as she spun, her ballerina shoes on display as she held her arms out, one in front of her and one behind her, facing away from the stage before twirling back around to face the audience in one fluid movement.
Carter had always told Frankie that she moved like the water when she danced, always flowing and connecting one movement to another, reminding him of a river, one so beautiful and calm but also fast and energetic at the same time.
Frankie's solo came, and Carter leaned forward in anticipation. He knew she would stick it, had seen her do it so many times before, but he always felt a little more excited whenever he saw that smile appear on her face after she succeeded.
One pirouette. Two pirouettes. Three pirouettes. Four pirouettes, and… five pirouettes!
With Frankie's solo came the finale, and Carter stood, applauding loudly, joined by his mother and the entire audience.
The curtains closed, and the show came to an end.
Carter lightly pushed his way through the crowd to reach Frankie, and she gave a surprised laugh as he lifted her off her feet and spun her around. She had taken her hair out of her ballerina bun and let it hang down her back; Carter smoothed his hand over her brown hair, brushing through the curls, stiff from hair spray and dotted with glitter.
"You were amazing out there," he informed her, handing her a bouquet of red roses that he had bought with his own money just for the occasion. "You really belong out there."
Frankie chuckled. "Don't you know by now, Carter? I'll always belong right here with you."
Then she pulled him in for a kiss.
All reviews are amazing; constructive criticism is appreciated; and all flames will be ignored and reported if necessary. Be kind and accepting, and if incest really bothers you, just hit the back button. Remember: it takes less time to hit the back button than it does to type out a hateful comment.
Thank you for reading, and please leave a review. Also, keep in mind, I am not a ballerina (or any kind of dancer, for that matter), nor have I ever seen Swan Lake (unless you count the Barbie version), so sorry if it's not an accurate portrayal.
