Disclaimer:I own nothing but the plot and any unknown names/surnames. Ironically, the name 'Davies' can be found in the 1989 film, but I didn't realize this until I watched it this weekend. Sara Johnson and any other Save The Last Dance references belong to MTV and all those cool cats. Save The Last Dance 2 was my only insight to Juliard, so I used it.
"So. What do you wanna know?" Christine asked when they settled down at a cafeteria table.
Erik stirred creamer into his coffee, then put the stirrer on a napkin. "Tell me about them. Who were they? What did they do?"
'How did they die?' Christine finished in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she brought up the many ghosts of so long ago.
"My father was Charles Davies, an Irish lad. Yes, the Charles Davies. Playing in pubs was the way he made a living. His best friend was Shawn Giry, Antoinette's future husband. The pair of them traveled all over Europe, ending up in a small pub in Paris. Charles played the fiddle, while Shawn moved between piano and the squeeze box. It was at that pub that Charles met Marin Hoyt. Marin was a serving girl, a local girl. She had become fast friends with the newest server, Antoinette, and would always joke around with the girl. Charles and Shawn frequented the pub for at least a week, before their intentions were known. One night, while the pair were doing their normal act, Marin decided to add her voice to the familiar songs. Not wanting to be left out, Antoinette put down her tray and did a quick jig for the lads. It was that night, some say, that love was found for two couples."
Christine paused in her tale, taking a bite of her apple. "Look, I've got to go get ready for warm-ups. But me lunch and we can continue?" she asked with a small grin.
This girl sure knew how to milk it. "Sounds good," he answered, with one of his rare smiles. "Where should I meet you?" he inquired, as the girl stood.
"I have warm-ups, then ballet with Antoinette. After that I have hip-hop with Sara Johnson."
Erik nodded."I'll meet you by Sara's room, then. I have one question before you go," he stated, reaching for her hand.
To some, when she turned back to him, she was just another young hopeful like them. But to Erik, as sun streamed in behind her and framed her outline, she looked like an angel; His angel.
"Yes?" she answered, her head tilted slightly at the gesture.
"Why haven't you asked about my mask?" His eyes held hers and he rested his chin on his hand.
With a smile, she righted her posture and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Because, people are allowed to hide from their past, if they see need to." She slung her bag onto her shoulder and took back her hand from his. "I'll see you at lunch." With that, she turned and walked away.
Erik watched her leave, a small smile still on his face. 'Now, if I could just get her to sign the damn contract,' he thought. The smile slowly faded, when he realized what was on the table; a CD that was clearly of some importance to her dancing. "Máiréd Nesbitt," he read off the cover, then flipped it over. The young artist was clearly a fiddle player, most likely Irish. His frown grew deeper, as he noticed a sticker next to a track titled The Butterfly. This song must be of some importance, so he went back to the girls' room and popped the disc into the stereo.
After listening for a while, Erik realized that the track was in an almost hip-hop style. He racked his brain for reasons Christine would need this, before settling on one. 'Sara mentioned some sort of expo at the club next week. This must be Christine's routine music,' he thought, and removed the disc from the player. "I'm just going to have to return this," he stated, and went in search of a schedule.
Sara Johnson looked at her student and sighed. "Christine. You'll never get that CD back if you left it in the cafeteria."
Christine nodded. "I know, Miss J. I'll try and order another one by the end of the week." Inwardly, Christine was smacking herself. How could she have been so stupid enough to leave the CD on the table?
Sara placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder and smiled. "At least it wasn't your toe-shoes. Antoinette would've murdered you if you had lost them."
With a small smile, Christine nodded. "I just wish I hadn't been distracted at breakfast. That's the only reason I forgot it."
Sara raised a brow at her student. "And what, exactly, could distract you enough to forget your routine CD?"
"That, quite possibly, could be my fault," Erik said, stepping out of the shadows of the classroom. The two girls turned and looked at him, both wearing equal expressions of surprise. "I found this on the table, and figured that you might need it," he said, holding out the CD.
Christine was so happy, that she could've kissed him. But she didn't, of course. That would've just been stupid. "Thank you so much. It would've taken a good week to get it replaced," she said, taking the CD from him. As she did so, their fingers brushed slightly. A little pink in the cheeks, Christine pulled away with the CD. "Th-thanks," she stumbled out and turned away.
"How much longer are you going to interrupt my class, Roberts?" Sara asked, a small smirk on her face. When Sara had been a ballet student at Juliard, Erik had been a vocal student. If not for Miles, Sara very well could've fallen for Erik.
"When you finally own up and tell Antoinette that you were the one who got Meg that fake ID, Johnson. She's somehow convinced that I was the one who got it," he said, casting a glance at a stretching Meg.
Sara rolled her eyes. "That's what this is all about?"
Christine, who had been silently watching this exchange, spoke up. "Hey. Can we work on my routine, Miss J?" she asked, wondering how the two knew each other.
With a smile, Sara nodded and whispered to Erik, "Stick around and watch her dance. You'll see why she's afraid to sign your contract." She turned and walked over to her student. "You have one week until the Expo. You want to show them that your not just another wanna-be, right? This is you chance to show the world that you are who you want to be." Sara popped the CD into the player. "Show me what you've got, Chris."
Christine nodded and the music started. Combining tap, jazz, a tiny bit of ballet, and Irish step she launched into her routine.
Erik stood next to Sara, in awe. "She moves like a prima ballerina, but her heart is not in it; I can tell."
Sara nodded. "Did she tell you about her parents?" Her eyes never left her student.
"She started to, but she had to go get ready for warm-ups," he answered, his mind in jumbles. Christine was obviously hiding something from him.
Sara smirked, nodding her head to the music. "Then I'll only tell you this: She's only doing ballet, because it's what they made her think they wanted. Hip-hop is her only outlet away from that world." As the music ended, she walked away from Erik.
Erik sighed. He was no closer to getting the contract signed. Taking Sara's words into consideration, he waited for Christine to finish up.
A/N:Let me start by saying that the fiddle player mentioned in this chapter is an amazing musician. She is part of the group titled Celtic Woman and simply amazes me. Ok...my reasoning for using Sara, if you've seen the second movie, should be clear. Sara knows what it's like to have to choose between things. Anyways...lots of conflict, yelling(mostly Meg), and other characters to come in the next chapter. So...go review!