Breakdancing was first created as a "less lethal" form of fighting between warring African-American street gangs in 1970s Bronx area of New York City. This form of dancing re-emerged into worldwide popularity during 1990s.

Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen? ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Will was dead.

With only six days until the performance, Marcus didn't let the company have a day off to mourn his death. I attended rehearsal no matter how much I wanted to stay home and cry until my eyes became shriveled. During breaks, we honored Will the only way we knew how: praising him as a dancer.

At the company's urging, Marcus decided to dedicate our first performance to Will. It was a high honor that Will was completely worthy of. Because Will wasn't considered famous in the dance world, Marcus wanted Christina to give a speech about his journey as a dancer to show just who Will really was. These sorts of speeches normally got one of two reactions from the audience: apathy or sympathy.

Marcus wanted this because, if you could earn the audience's sympathy, they would remember that feeling for the rest of their lives. That was all a dancer should want to do.

However, for us in the company, the speech was much more. We couldn't attend Will's funeral because his parents had asked for their son's body to be shipped back to his home town in Alaska. None of us could afford a trip to Alaska, except maybe Four, so the speech was our funeral for Will.

After a dress rehearsal, two days before our first performance, Marcus treated the entire company to dinner. It was a yearly thing, but I could never figure out how he payed for it. A choreographer's salary wasn't much better than a dancer's.

The restaurant wasn't high-class or anything, but everyone in the company always came because it was a free meal. We wore some of our nicer clothes that didn't have holes in them and bothered to look twice in the mirror before leaving the house.

As we took our seats around a long table, Four and Christina took seats next to me. Over the last few days, Christina had latched onto me. We shared the experience of being at Will's death and, for some reason, Christina thought we were instantly a lot closer.

Well, bad news for her, then. I wanted to see her even less because she reminded me of Will.

Everyone had just ordered dinner when Peter walked in. He led a pack of other people who had to be dancers as well because, let's be honest, dancers don't do well at meeting non-dancers.

"Hey, Four," Peter strutted towards our table. A few males followed him while the rest of the dancers sat at a nearby table. "I see you're out and about with the floor-rolling people."

The entire company exchanged looks. Lynn, a dancer with a story similar to Will's except with a start in hip-hop dancing, looked ready to stand up and start yelling. Lynn was always easily provoked, we all knew it, and so the people sitting next to her gently put their hands on her shoulders in warning. If Lynn tried to start a fight, she would be restrained.

But, damn, I wanted Lynn to knock the crap out of Peter.

"Why is the entire company here?" Four asked him warily.

"Evelyn sent us a large sum of money and told us to treat ourselves to dinner at this restaurant," Peter shrugged. "How were we supposed to know you guys would be here tonight?"

"Evelyn did?" Marcus sighed. Him and Four exchanged looks.

"Who's Evelyn?" Lynn growled. "Some sort of pompous ballet bastard?"

Peter tutted, "Watch what you say. Evelyn is the biggest benefactor of dance companies throughout the world. She was also quite famous during her prime."

"Well, I've never heard of her," Lynn rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Peter smirked. "You're probably too busy trying to tell the difference between third and fifth position* during ballet barre."

"Shut up you arrogant butt wipe," Lynn tried to stand up, but the people next to her did their job and kept her seated.

Peter, knowing he had won this little fight, smirked and walked away.

"Four, I need to talk with you," Marcus said right away. Four nodded and the two went around the corner to talk near the bathrooms.

The entire company stared at me.

What the fuck are you guys doing?

Lynn spoke up, "Waiting for you to go eavesdrop on their conversation."

Me?

"Four and Marcus can't afford to get mad at you. You're teaching Four modern and no one else is willing to. At the moment, you're irreplaceable."

I would have put up more of a fight if I wasn't so damn curious. Dropping my napkin with a sigh, I stood around the corner from Marcus and Four.

As I listened to their conversation, I pretended to check my phone for reception.

"Why would she send them?" Marcus snarled. "We're doing everything she wants."

Four slowly exhaled and calmly said, "Knowing her, it's both a display of power and a reminder to stay on task. Don't get so worked up about it. Someone will hear you."

"I don't want her fucking with my company, Four."

"This isn't any better for me," Four yelled. Quieter, he said, "I have more at stake here than you. I have two days to make sure I nail this performance."

"It'll take longer than just this performance," Marcus whispered harshly. "You're improving, but not enough."

"That's not good enough. I told Tris she would have her spot on the company back after the first performance."

"Well, things change. You lied."

"I didn't know modern would take this long to learn."

Marcus tapped his fingers anxiously. "Tris can have her company spot back, no problem. With Will dead, there's room for another member. You need her to keep teaching you. If she left, you'd never leave the company."

"I still lied to her."

"What's more important to you, ballet or the truth?"

"Excuse me, Miss," a waiter approached me. "Our restaurant's cell phone reception is typically four bars. If your phone is having that much trouble, I advise getting it fixed or changing companies."

I froze.

Four and Marcus slowly glanced around the corner. Stricken looks were on both of their faces.

Anger quickly overtook my surprise. "I guess you're more than just an asshole," I yelled at Four. "You're a lying asshole!"

And I stormed out of the restaurant.

In my anger, I hadn't even realized that I had spoken for the first time in weeks.

*Third and fifth positions are different placements for the feet during ballet. Overall, there are five basic positions. Third position when the heel of one foot rests against the instep of the other; both are firmly turned out, and the weight is divided between them. Fifth is when the feet are turned out and pressed closely together, the heel of the right foot against the toe of the left. I suggest finding pictures to fully understand. The positions are the most similar of the five.

Thanks to ValeriaCarolina and AllyisCanadian for reviewing the last chapter.