MATTHEW

The next day, Matthew arrived to comments about his performance the previous afternoon. Though he wanted to go up and make sure the dancer was there that day, he let the gang at the Towers have their fun.

"Not too bad, Mattie," G commented, just after Hulio and Tray left having given Matthew their expert opinions. "Could have been a bit sharper, though. And I can't walk under your leaps yet – you need a lot of work on those." Matthew gave the large man a withering look but felt some underlying sincerity in his backhanded compliment. "What's in store for today? The Nutcracker?"

"Is that sexy?" G grinned at Scarlet as the woman joined them. "Not half bad, Summers." She said playfully, her eyes blatantly taking in his whole body with a new light in her eyes. He quickly moved towards the door and bumped into Bright in the process.

"He was trying to remove himself from Scarlet," G provided for Bright's benefit as Matthew apologized. The ungendered gave Matthew a sympathetic look, which then turned sincere.

"Nice dancing yesterday," Matthew smiled down at the shy visage, glad for the straightforward comment.

"Thanks, Bright. It's nice to know I have at least one appreciative person in the audience." They ducked away, grinning, while Scarlet protested.

"Hey, I am very…appreciative. If you have a moment, I'd be happy to show you just how appreciative." G guffawed.

"Actually, I just stopped in to say hi. Better be getting up to see if she's here today." Scarlet gave him a look of exaggerated disappointment, but Bright standing behind her making urgent motions for him to leave made him grin as he again fled from Scarlet's presence.

Upstairs, he was pleased to see his dancing companion was indeed there, and in the middle of a choreographed piece. She paused as he entered, looked in his direction as if in greeting, then continued with her work. It seemed a sign that he had proven himself as a dancer.

With him back in shape, a sort of communication began to develop between himself and the young woman. They both began dancing more challenging pieces. Her dancing became more focused and the last remnants of rawness disappeared, which he felt was for the best. As the days passed, they performed and out-performed each other again and again. She moved closer, and began picking up his choreography. Then, occasionally, she started dancing along to segments of the pieces he did. He started paying more attention to the dances she performed.

Matthew quickly learned that she had little patience for sloppiness. The first time he attempted her choreography, she stopped mid-dance and looked straight at him, hands on her hips. He paused, confused. She started again from the beginning, and with an eye on her he started as well. She stopped again, and again stood hands on hips, something Matthew was learning did not bode well. She didn't return to dancing, and tentatively he repeated the steps. She crossed her arms. Frustrated, he focused and performed the steps with a mind for precision and sharpness. Her head tipped to the side, and he had the distinct feeling she was evaluating him from across the room. He tried one more time, and after this time, she nodded then began the dance herself.

As he danced, he realized he had been fudging the steps as he got a feeling for them. He rolled his eyes, but felt some comfort in her scrutiny as well. His dance teacher and father were similarly particular. He redoubled his efforts, and she spared him another full-on taste of her displeasure. It didn't save him from over the shoulder looks and head shakes that were less than complimentary. He started adding a few shakes of his head, or painfully thoughtful poses when he noticed her dancing suffered, though the opportunities to use them were rare.

It was about two weeks later when, in the early afternoon, the ballerina sat down and put on dance shoes for the first time that Matthew had seen. She normally danced barefoot or with her feet wrapped. Matthew felt excitement rising in him. Sure enough, the dancer stood and a moment later and seemed to effortlessly rise to the very tips of her toes.

Of course, it wasn't effortless, which Matthew knew well from his long-time partner. It took great strength to dance in toe shoes and the danger of injury was manifold over dancing without the special shoes. The dancer seemed judicious with her use, carefully warming up and doing practice moves. He guessed she had been practicing on them somewhere else, not full choreography, but individual steps. She was very comfortable and confident on the shoes, and as Matthew now knew well, the muscles used for dancing did not recover overnight.

As the song on the box drew to a close, the young woman took up position to the back left of the space. She knew he was watching her. He sensed she was doing this for him, and straightened up blatantly watching her for the first time. Her chin rose and her shoulders relaxed back and he knew he had been right. She wasn't dancing simply because she enjoyed it, or because it was an outlet. This time she was performing.

The music started and she danced. She must have memorized the order of the songs, which he usually just let play on a loop. It was the variation from Copélia, Swanhilda's solo. A relatively short piece, but she was entrancing throughout. Her technique was flawless, the illusion of weightlessness lent by the toe shoes accentuated through her strength and precision. She embodied the playfulness of the character, and he wished he was closer so that he could see her facial expressions for the full effect. While it was not the most technically challenging piece he had seen, it was suitable for the solo and she pulled it off well. As the music ended, he clapped with genuine appreciation.

She performed a full bow, and feeling he had an opening, Matthew started to approach. As she straightened up, she saw him coming closer, and immediately bounded backward, guarded again. Matthew stopped, but it was too late. She raced from the room, stopping only to pick up the small bundle she brought with her every day. The tall man pulled at his hair in frustration, but returned to dancing, hoping she would come back. She didn't.

G, Hulio and Patches were waiting for him when he came down.

"Someone saw?" Matthew started the conversation. G nodded. His cohorts occasionally went up to watch the dancing when things were slow at the center, but it wasn't a set thing.

"Bright was there. They just said the girl ran because you approached her." Patches, standing to Matthew's left, growled something incoherent. Matthew ignored him.

"She performed on toe shoes. She wanted me to watch." He shot a glance at Patches. "I thought it was some kind of opening. I was wrong." G nodded.

"Toe shoes, huh?" said Hulio, "So, she's, like, professional?" The man's distinction gave Matthew pause. These people knew about ballet, but they didn't know ballet.

"It's just another form of ballet. Some dancers choose not to perform en pointe. They take a lot out of your body, and there is more risk."

"But, it means she is a real ballerina, right?" Matthew shook his head, amused and thinking he should take the time to teach them.

"It is a sign of her expertise, but you can be a ballerina without dancing in toe shoes. Men rarely use toe shoes."

"So, it means she's better than you." That comment, unsurprisingly, came from Patches. Matthew bristled.

"You can't really compare the male and female style of dancing, just like you can't compare a ballerina dancing en pointe versus one dancing in soft slippers." G thankfully cut them all off.

"Look, I don't care what it means. I just care that she doesn't get scared away. Mattie, there's always a chance she's gotten word of your reputation. Stick to the original plan for now. At some point we'll have to consider something else, but there's still some time yet."

"Uh, G, from the way most people talk, I don't think his reputation would scare her away. Might do just the opposite." G glared at Hulio, who grinned back. Patches made a sound of disgust. Matthew lifted his eyes skyward, but then focused on what G had just said.

"Still time? Why wouldn't there be time?" G looked irritated.

"Food. I get those bars because of the activities I run here. There's only so many, though. I know she still supplements from…somewhere." The dubious tone to the word betrayed G's disapproval at her thievery, but what could they do? "But she's not getting enough as it is." Matthew felt his stomach go sour. He hadn't realized how tight things were for G.

"I can get a ton of those," he said sincerely. G looked at him for a moment, undecided.

"I'm not comfortable with it, Mattie, but given the circumstances, I'll take you up on the offer. I'll pay you back somehow."

"No, don't worry about it, seriously." G waved aside his generosity. Matthew said his goodbyes and went on his way.

The next day, the girl did not show up. That was the first time Matthew worried about it. He couldn't say why, but he felt that the days she missed were not good days for her. There was nothing to be done, though, so shrugging off his concern, he left the room after an hour of dancing, and went to join the gang downstairs. G was in deep conversation with someone Matthew did not recognize, so he went over to join Tray and Hulio who were supervising an art project for the younger kids who wandered in.

As soon as Matthew joined them, they again brought up the girl's performance from the day before. Matthew noticed that Patches drifted over, though he didn't join the conversation.

"So, the fact that she can use those shoes means she's like, one of the best, right?" Hulio seemed to have gotten the message, but Tray was having difficulty believing her friend.

"It just means she wanted to learn on them, and there was someone who could teach her. You do have to have a certain grasp of dance before it is safe to try them, but there are plenty of people who do that." Trying to forestall the next question he added, "She is an exceptionally good dancer, and must have been taught by a master, however. I thought so even before I saw her dance en pointe."

Patches butted in.

"What about up at your fancy dance school? Anyone as good as her there?" Suddenly all their eyes were on him.

"She would do well there." He considered for a moment more, "Yes, she would probably be one of the best dancers." While he hadn't tailored his response to them, the satisfied nods he got told him he had given the answer they wanted. That one of theirs, someone they considered to be from the Sewers, could be as good as those living UpMountain.

Matthew directed the conversation away from that contentious topic. He thought he'd try to educate them a bit.

"Other than my dancing, and hers, have any of you ever seen ballet?" He was met with unanimous head shakes. "Well, it's a very ancient type of dance. Old even before the Devastation. It has stayed remarkably true to its origins over the centuries, and some say we dance the same choreography, that is moves and the order they are danced in, that they did back in the 20th century." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "In addition to strength, it requires balance, focus, flexibility and commitment, and no matter what kind of shoes you use, it is difficult to be really good."

"Any sport is like that," Patches scoffed, in spite the fact he had been lauding the young woman's dance acumen only moments earlier.

"But most sports don't require you to learn so many difficult steps, then memorize infinite patterns of them when you perform. And the level of physical fitness it requires is demanding. It is not something you can just pick up. If you are a serious dancer, it is your life." He paused again trying to form his thoughts when G's voice behind him made him jump.

"What I want to know is why the hell do people who feel that as mutants they are superior in all ways to those who are not, spend their time perfecting an art that non-mutant humans created, and that a human of skill could do better than them?"

Matthew opened his mouth to object, but then realized what he had been about to say. No human could ever dance better than a mutant. His face went hot and he kept his mouth shut, knowing the reception that comment would get. From G's look, his friend had more or less guessed.

"Before we came here we didn't think such things," the big man said quietly with a look of disappointment on his face.

G made these allusions to their past from time to time, but Matthew didn't know what to make of them. The only memories he had from before the Montagne were hazy at best. Caves, he thought. A scaled man with spikes on his back, a woman with tan skin, black hair and a red dot on her forehead, a tall bald man.

And a hazel eyed woman, her tanned face surrounded by black hair with red highlights. He knew that one – his mother. He quickly turned his thoughts away. It was too painful to think of her.

"Yeah, I guess it is weird when you think about it," he said responding to G's comment on ballet, "It levels the playing field, I suppose."

A couple of people in the group sniggered. "Yeah, except that the mutant who has supreme balance or super strength has a bit of an advantage." Several of them looked at Matthew like he was an idiot.

"That's just it. Using your mutant ability while dancing ballet, you just don't do it. The powers are all so different, anyway, there are only a few people who could benefit from using theirs." The group didn't seem convinced, but it was true. Using your mutant ability to enhance your dancing – it wasn't off limits, but it was no longer classical ballet. There were other forms of dance where mutants did just that. He had never considered the irony that the classical art should be promoted in a society which elevated mutant supremacy above all else.

Something else occurred to him. "My father told me that he has never seen a dancer better than Katyana Pietrovich," he said softly. G gave him a questioning look. He didn't understand the connection. Then Scarlet put it together.

"Katya's Locker - that Katyana?" Matthew blinked, unsure.

"They say she was from the UpMountain…" G murmured, looking at Matthew.

"I guess it was her." He didn't understand how, but it made sense.

"I didn't know she was a dancer. Well, you've just proved our point for us Matthew. Thank you." Matthew smiled wryly but was distracted as he considered the implications of what he had just said. The group broke up, but G stayed behind.

"Finally figuring out that they've been filling your head with crap all these years?"

"Yeah," Matthew responded after a moment, "I just hadn't realized how deep it went. It goes far beyond me." He murmured, not really intending it as a comment for G.

"You? What are you talking about? Not everything is about you, you know. I know they teach you differently up there, but you are overdue for a reality check my friend," he snorted, "not that anywhere in the Montagne qualifies as 'reality'."

Matthew was quiet for a long moment, but then continued. "It's just that, it ties back to Jenna and I." G looked at him carefully.

"Want to talk about it?" Matthew almost didn't, but the desire to finally share what he had learned with someone proved too strong.

"When I first left Jenna, after she cheated on me, I was hurt and angry that she had been with someone else. It felt like she thought what we had shared hadn't mattered to her at all." G nodded.

"And then she went and shared what you two had shared, with everyone…" G's voice dropped off at Matthew's glare. "Sorry, it's just too good an opportunity to pass up. But, I'm listening now!" Looking at his friend suspiciously, Matthew nonetheless continued.

"By the time that happened, I way past going back to her. It just made the memories sour." He got an honest look of sympathy from G for that.

"Sorry, man. I'll, uh, try to stop." Matthew knew he wouldn't try hard. "What happened in between?"

"So, I left her, and at first everyone was sympathetic. But after, I don't know, a few weeks or so, they started getting annoyed. And in all that time, Jenna had never sought me out, or apologized to me in any way, though once she broke her fling off, she was dropping hints to our friends that she wanted to get back together. It didn't make sense to me.

"There were a few comments that helped me along, like that she was the best thing that could have happened to someone like me, that I was stupid to not get back in my place…" Matthew's stomach twisted at the memories. People he had thought were friends turning away from him, because he wasn't playing his part anymore.

He laughed, embarrassed, as he continued. "I actually went back and looked at break ups in the tabloids. There was a pattern. I supposed you won't be surprised, but everyone knows who was born UpMountain, and who came from Down, whether because of their powers or marriage or whatever." G narrowed his eyes in disgust at that fact, "So in recent breakups I knew the ones that involved…non-natives, if you like. People that weren't born UpMountain. And sure enough, even if they had been wronged, there was no apology and they were expected to go back to their partner if that person wanted them back. And most of them went back." He stopped feeling he had said too much.

"The UpMountain crowd seems to be sleeping with their neighbors all the time. Maybe no apology is the norm?" Matthew was surprised to find G trying to help him. He shook his head.

"If the person wronged was from the UpMountain, there was always an apology. Sometimes referred to from a private conversation, sometimes a public apology with all sorts of stupid stuff for show. No. It mattered who you were."

"Mattie. I get it," G spoke softly, and indication that he didn't have to finish but Matthew wanted it get it all out now.

"They loved me as long as I was the person they wanted me to be. As soon as I stopped performing for them, it was clear that I was no more than a dog doing tricks, and they were pissed that I didn't jump at their command anymore. Because I wasn't UpMountain. I'm not even DownMountain. I'm from the effing Wastelands! And Jenna was no different. She would always tell me I was perfect, but as perfect as I was, I was found in the trash and she never forgot that I was less than her. It just wasn't clear to me until we broke up. I'm surprised they don't hold their noses when I walk by." He clenched his teeth to stop the bitter words from coming out. After a moment, he could speak again.

"So, I started coming down here, where they really thought I belonged. But they didn't like that, either." He gave a grin of bitter satisfaction at that. They had lost one of their favorite toys. Done with the topic, he tied it back to the conversation on dancing. "But, maybe you are right and, it's all arbitrary. Where you come from, or how you were born, what attributes you were born with. Maybe, it shouldn't matter…"

"I'm sorry it messed you up so much, Mattie, but I can't say I'm not glad you're starting to see the hypocrisy of this place." He clapped a hand on Matthew's shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me all that sooner?" Matthew looked down.

"I was embarrassed. I had let myself grow apart from you thinking my life was better than yours, that I was better, when in the end it was all a lie. I couldn't bring myself to admit that to you."

"There's hope for you yet, my friend," G said softly, "I'm glad you told me. I, uh, I thought maybe it hit you so hard because the redhead cheated with, you know, most notorious lesbian seducer in the UpMountain." G's eyes went humorously wide as he tried to lighten up the conversation.

"That woman is a predator," Matthew declared, with a small laugh, "Actually, in a way it wasn't a surprise at all. Jenna is the risk-taker. When we got in trouble as kids, whatever we had been doing was always her idea." G snorted in surprise.

"Sounds like I'd actually like her." Matthew chuckled, then returned to the subject.

"It could have been anyone. The fact that it was Lady Tracy—"

"And the future Head!" G interjected.

"—just made it more public and more titillating. They love those stories up there. Their daily bread."

"Yeah, well, as you know we're not exactly angels down here either. We eat that stuff up, too. And your break-up gave us a rich serving. Did you really end up in a screaming match at the dance school?" Matthew nodded.

"I expected her to apologize, but she just went on saying it was a bit of experimentation and I should get over it. And it seems she didn't wait two minutes before getting back with that woman after I stormed out." Matthew gave a dry laugh at the drama that had dominated his life for those weeks. He found it no longer had the hold on him that it once had. Nonetheless, he was relieved when G changed the topic.

Raising his voice, the large man pulled his friends back into the conversation.

"Hey, all this deep thinking, if it's not putting too much of a strain on your pampered brain, you should come down to the Center Court sometime and debate with the oldsters there. They talk about anything and everything, but mostly philosophy and psychology. Personally, I love the psychology. Analytical, behavioral, or my personal favorite, gestalt-"

"Leave off the gestalt, man, you're always trying to make it out to be more than it actually is!" Hulio called from a nearby table, where he appeared to be helping a younger boy with an art project. G glared, but Scarlet and the others nearby hooted. Apparently, this was an old joke.

"Poor children, if only their puny brains weren't incapable of such deep and delicate thoughts. Now, in you Matthew, we may just have the beginnings of a great philosopher."

"Well, he sure knows deep and delicate. You can try out your 'thinking' on me anytime, Mattie!" came Scarlet's rejoinder to G's commentary on their collective intelligence, given as she walked by the two men on her way to get supplies. More laughter followed from those near enough to hear, along with a warning glare from G to keep the conversation clean around the kids. Matthew, grinning ruefully, went to join them in their activities.

The dancer returned the next day, though over the next couple weeks she continued to miss a day here and there. As much as that worried him, Matthew also found himself enjoying those days. He helped the kids with games and activities, or with the schoolwork which they occasionally brought, and also taught pick-up dance classes.

As a sign of the renewed strength of their friendship, G started filling Matthew in on the running of the Tower. He learned that the older individuals who supervised as well as taught the kids were all vetted, and trained, and people G trusted implicitly. Safeties were in place to protect the younger kids – for instance, they were never allowed to be alone with an older individual and they always traveled around with at least two friends. All were expected to take self-defense classes, which, for some reason, G wanted the young dancer upstairs to teach if they ever got through to her. G had not only been caring, but cautious when he had created his hangout. When Matthew asked about the name, G shrugged saying he had never been bothered. Apparently, it was simply known as 'the Towers' in the DownMountain.

As Matthew relaxed around them, G's friends and the kids at the center became more comfortable with him in turn. They started to express their curiosity about the life he led UpMountain. More specifically, they wanted to know what people were really like there.

UpMountainers were so distant from these kids in the DownMountain, that most had the impression they were nothing short of gods, although some seemed to associate them more with demons. Matthew tried to present things fairly, acknowledging the blatant inequality, but also stressing that in the end the people UpMountain were just that, people.

It made him reflect on what he had experienced growing up UpMountain, especially in light of the comradery he was finding at the Tower. UpMountain, while he and his friends did laugh and joke, there was always an undercurrent of competition. Always a thought of who was more powerful, who was proving to be more adept at manipulation, who was considered more beautiful. These were the people who would rule the UpMountain, and any trait that would put them ahead was coveted. The children truly were taught that they were more or less gods and goddesses, born to lead, meant to be supreme. Matthew didn't share these thoughts with the DownMountain group.

Some members of what Matthew had come to think of as "G's gang" became very comfortable with him and started asking more personal questions. When Hulio came to him asking whether he really had done all 'that stuff' with Jenna, Matthew had hedged his answer but not denied it. Hulio proved to be adept at reading between the lines, and his eyes widened.

"How, man? I mean like, how did you know? Did you…you know?" His look of awe made Matthew think uncomfortably of G's joke about him having two mutant powers. He sighed but answered honestly.

"I, uh, asked her." That was partly true. "And then did more of…whatever."

"And was it…like…for you was it…?"

"Yeah, yeah, it was, it was," he answered quickly, reading the question before it was finished. He just wanted this conversation to end.

"You asked her…" Hulio whispered in an awed tone, his eyes still full of admiration. Matthew had awkwardly excused himself. He didn't understand why they found it so esoteric. It wasn't exactly rocket science. Nonetheless, similar conversations happened with a few other men and women in the group. Matthew sank with embarrassment each time.

The worst was Scarlet who simply announced to the gang at the end of one day after the kids were gone, "Four times? In one night? It's not possible. For a man at least," and she had smiled a challenge at Matthew, and he had fled as usual. He had learned that she was bisexual, with a preference for women. Her relationships with men tended to start with a standing challenge, one which she didn't expect the man to meet. Matthew avoided her when he was able.

Matthew welcomed the casual environment G had created. He realized it didn't transfer to the rest of the DownMountain, much less the Sewers, the neighborhood surrounding the Towers, where people were often too run down to care about much except getting through the day. Nonetheless, he understood that G had made a haven where these kids could grow and consider that perhaps there was more to life than what the Montagne offered.