1 - I Swear I'm Not Gay, I Just Have a Weird Passion For Classical Music and Leotards

Craig adjusted the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder and glanced around. This is it, he thought, pushing the door of the dance studio open. He shuffled inside, looking back over his shoulder one last time to make sure no one was watching him.

"Hi, how can I help you?" A girl with blonde hair that was tied into a messy bun on top of her head greeted him, cherry lips turned up in a smile.

The Noirette ran a hand through his hair, his face going red. "I came to see about ballet lessons…"

The girl giggled. "You don't have to be embarrassed, you know. Guys do ballet all the time. Can I have your name?"

"Craig Tucker," he said. Of course he knew that guys did ballet; that wasn't what he was concerned about. What he was concerned about was Eric fucking Cartman using this against him. Even in high school, that fatass was one of Craig's biggest problems, and he certainly wasn't interested in giving him anything more to bother him about than he had to.

She jotted something-presumably his name-down on the notepad in front of her and trotted over to Craig, extending a perfect, manicured hand. "I'm Bebe. Bebe Stevens."

Craig shook her hand lightly and looked her over. She looked to be about his age, but he'd never seen her around South Park High, so he guessed she went to the private school uptown.

Bebe tucked a stray golden hair behind her ear and gestured towards a door that led deeper into the studio. "Follow me, I'll introduce you to the Madam."

The Madam? Craig wondered, but kept his lips shut as he followed Bebe into the practice room.

"Mom!" Bebe called.

"What is it, darling?" Bebe's mother was tall and thin, with violet eye shadow painted onto her lids and a thin smile.

Bebe pushed Craig forward, grinning. "This is Craig Tucker. He wants to practice ballet here."

Craig lowered his steel-blue eyes to his worn-down sneakers, feeling everyone's gazes land on him, and Mrs. Stevens tilted his chin up with a calloused hand. "Craig Tucker, hm? Are you Thomas' boy?"

He nodded reluctantly, hating that this woman was immediately associating him with that asshole. "That's right," he muttered in his deep monotone.

The woman smiled, pity in her eyes. "I see." She prodded his bag with a bony finger. "And what's in here?"

Craig unzipped the duffel bag, letting her peer inside. "It's a change of clothes, and leotard. My mom got it for me." He rummaged past the clothes and pulled out a wad of wrinkled dollar bills. "And this should cover the fee for me joining."

"Well, why don't you go ahead and get dressed, and we'll see if you can't get started with some stretches." Mrs. Stevens looked over at a short boy with bright blue eyes and platinum blonde hair that was shaved off on the sides. "Leopold, would you mind showing our new member to the dressing rooms?"

"S-sure thing, Madam Stevens!"

As the two walked down the hall, the boy gave Craig a wide smile. "It sure is nice to have another boy here. I'm Leopold, but most people call me Butters."

Craig tugged at the strings on his dark blue chullo, fighting off the anxiety he was starting to feel about all this. "I'm Craig. People call me—um...Craig."

Butters let a shrill giggle slip through his lips. "Well, Craig, here are the dressing rooms. Meet me back at the main practice room."

Craig closed the door to one of the rooms and slipped off his shirt, fighting the urge to look down at the bruises that littered his chest. Thomas Tucker wasn't too keen on the idea of Craig doing ballet or anything else that wasn't a conventional sport, and he hadn't been afraid to show it in the slightest. Craig bit the inside of his cheek and put on a baggy T-shirt and changed into sweatpants. He took off his hat and tossed it into his bag, trying to fix his perpetual hat hair and eventually just giving up.

When he arrived back at the main practice room, the other kids were already stretching on the barre. He walked over to the empty space beside Bebe and mimicked what she was doing the best he could.

She glanced over at him and chuckled. "Here, let me help."

Craig gasped as she reached out and tugged his leg higher. "Ow! What the hell?"

"You have to stretch," she insisted, pushing him forward so his back was straightened out.

"You really do this every day?" he said through clenched teeth, and she nodded.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

They finished stretching, and Madam Stevens lined everyone up. "First position!" she called, and everyone immediately shifted so that their heels were together. Craig was last to accomplish first position, but at least he was able to do it without much instruction.

"Second position!"

The dancers slid their feet outward, and Craig copied them. Maybe this won't be too difficult after all.

"Third!"

Everyone returned to first position, and then crossed one foot over the other.

Mrs. Stevens nodded in approval. "Very good. Mr. Tucker, please remember to keep your legs straight." He expected the other students to laugh at him for being corrected, but everyone remained stoic, holding the position with ease.

"I'M SORRY I'M-NGH-LATE!" A voice screeched, and a boy with wild yellow hair and wide eyes rushed in. He was breathing heavily and covered in a layer of sweat. "S-sorry I'm-"

"Very nice of you to join us, Mr. Tweak," Mrs. Stevens said, looking him up and down. "Go ahead and start warming up in our usual room, and I'll join you in a moment."

The boy nodded vigorously and speed-walked down the hall, where the separate practice rooms were, and Madam Stevens turned back to the rest of the class. "Bebe, would you mind taking over the class?" she asked, and followed after the boy before her daughter gave an answer.

A/N

So this is a ballet class AU (if you haven't already figured that out) where Craig has always wanted to take dance lessons and finally he and his mom go behind his dad's back so he can take them, and well-just read, everything will be explained :')