Author's Notes

Sorry for the wait! I've been soooo busy...well yeah here it is. I'm not quite sure to what extent this story may go. I might move it up to M depending on where it takes it self. I just know that when I hit M, I looking for one thing. Haha, and this isn't that. :P

Also keep in mind I haven't written in like a year...be gentle...

Warning: Intense Language. (Is that M worthy?) Awful scene changes. (Hope to be improved in 2nd chapter)

It was eleven-o-clock, and we were going on our third hour of what was suppose to be a two hour rehearsal, and Madame Ostrich was pissed.

"No! No! No! No! C'est terrible! From the top!" She crossed to the front and pointed everyone to their spots. "Five, six, seven, eight! Eliza across, Roderick, up, spin, back, release! Tino, down! Felici, down! Matt, down! Al, down! Berwald, Ludwig, Francis, Ivan! Ivan! What was that? What the hell was that?"

"I-I'm sorry..." He whispered, looking over at Roderick, who sent him a look sympathy.

Roderick cleared his throat to bring attention to himself. "If I may...Madame, we're all extremely exhausted. I think at this point-" He was promptly slapped.

"You know nothing! You will dance until your feet bleed!" She screamed, walking in Ivan's direction. "Or until you get it right." Everyone looked hurt, especially Ivan. Roderick seemed to have shaken off the slap like nothing had happened, and everyone returned to their place. It was like this was normal! I hadn't ever seen Madame do much more then sit in the corner and toss suggestions in every once in a while. But today, this was her performance, and everyone else was fucking her over.

"Again! I will not accept mediocrity!" She barked. We danced silently, going through the motions step, by step. My feet were killing me, and I could tell the blisters I'd acquired over the past few weeks were all but handling the extra stress well. Matty called them 'battle wounds', but that didn't make them any less annoying.

It had been a miracle that I'd picked up on the dance so easily as it was, though my part was mostly moving up and down and twisting and turning. Matt said I was more of an idle body moving in the background, but we, as the smaller set, were positioned as trees. Not to mention the fact that I'd dedicated as much of my time as everyone else, if not more, just to make sure I could keep up. Matty also said it was good I'd stuck with gymnastics through elementary, and that wrestling had to have kept me extra limber through middle school.

We ran through the dance, twice, and though I saw nothing wrong with it, Madame on the other hand looked at us like we had slaughtered her dreams.

"That's it! I've had it with you inutile dancers! Get out of my sight! All of you! Bring me back something worth looking at Monday!" She cried, kicking Francis' bag across the room.

"She was heated today!" I said, turning to Matty for some explanation.

"She gets like this around performance time. She's just edgy, but it always comes out perfect, so none of us can complain." Roderick cut in, passing us to the parking lot.

"But dude! She slapped you! She effin' slapped you!" I cried, following him seeing as Matt's car was right next to his.

"You just get used to it." He opened his door, and throwing his things in.

"Shit. You guys are crazy."

"She just wants what we all want, perfection. If we can achieve even a little of it that would be okay. But okay isn't enough." Ivan stated in a melancholy voice, appearing out of no where.

I had new respect for these guys.

When we got home I just laid on Matty's bed, letting his fan blow on my aching feet. He just sat in front of his computer screen, ignoring me.

"Matty. How do you guys put up with Madame Ostrich's periodic insanity."

"First of all, Al, it's Orthoridge. Second of all, she's not insane, just passionate. We all are...she...she just knows we all put something into this dance, not just our bodies. Like I said, she gave us the backbone, we all contributed our parts, and now she has to snap it into shape."

"Snap, or whip?"

"Alfred."

"I'm just sayin'..." I said, getting up. "And what was up with Ivan?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Matt stated, blankly. I slapped the back of his head,

"Don't be a dick, dude." I left, not even bothering to look back.

I looked down at my phone the contact staring back at me. I really had no idea how it got in there, I certainly didn't remember adding him. Maybe Matty put it in there earlier. But it didn't matter, I sure as hell wasn't about to call and ask if he was okay. He was weird, even if he did look kinda sad after rehearsal today. Perhaps I would ask him Monday.

-;-

Today everybody was hitting their mark, no mistakes, no one too slow, no one had what Feliciano called 'jello feet'. No one but me. I was exhausted, I had been up 'til three in the morning doing homework, then I was woken up 4 by Matt's cat clawing at my ass. Then, the class I usually napped in on days such as these I was forced to take notes in all period. So when I realized I still had to come to ballet and break my ankles trying to spin in perfect unison with everyone who'd been taking dance their whole life, you can imagine my horror. And then, it happened.

I went down like a ton of bricks, not that this wasn't inevitable. Now, perhaps I would have been able to pick myself up on any other day and keep going. Perhaps I would have even been excused of my rookie mistake. But not only did I fall right into the arms of Creepy McCreepster himself, he then decided instead of helping me back up, which is what you would expect someone to do when someone has caught them falling, but he dropped me, on purpose. After he had caught me so perfectly, he fucking dropped me. I may or may not have freaked out a little bit. Although I wasn't sure if it was the sleep depravation speaking, or the ever mounting confusion/creeped out-y-ness...is there a bigger word for that? Whatever :

"Did you seriously just do that? Seriously?" So I kinda shoved him really hard, but he just stood there! He literally didn't move at all. I on the other hand felt a little snap, but shook it off, of course it was nothing. Alfred fucking Jones doesn't hurt himself shoving cement filled people...or at least I shouldn't. I carried on until the end of rehearsal, and didn't even notice until Tino pointed out that my wrist was kinda red.

"It also looks like it's bruising, you should go to the hospital tonight and get it looked at." He whispered, while everyone was on the other side of the room. I'm sure he knew how embarrassing it would have been if everyone knew I'd messed up my wrist pushing Ivan."I know Ivan's kinda scary, but he might as well be made of rock, I wouldn't try to fight him. Or resist."

"Resist?" I asked myself as Tino walked away.

I walked over to Matt, who was giggling at Francis.

"Ils n'ont pas à connaître." He turned to look at me, and quickly lost his smile. "What's up, Al?"

"Can we um..go." I said, trying to stay cool.

"I was actually hoping you would get a ride from someone else..." He asked, looking at his shoes.

"Matt. Your my brother. I don't even really know anyone else here..."

"Here. You can take the keys..."

"Matt."

"I'll take you home." Ivan interrupted.

"I think you've done enough for tonight, yeah thanks." I hissed, seriously about to explode, and then...he smiled. He seemed to enjoy the anger emitting from me! "Stop looking at me! Matt take me home!"

"Matt doesn't have to listen to you if he doesn't want to! He is the eldest brother." Francis said, sounding extra ordinarily snooty.

"That's it!" I cried, throwing my hands around Francis's neck, "You prick!"

"Let go of him, Alfred! He wasn't doing anything!" I heard myself screech like a banshee, and then everything went black.

-;-

When I woke up, I realized I'd made it to the hospital. Not sure how, but I'd done it. First thing I noticed was Matt, fast asleep on Francis' lap, and it hit me why he was being all weird about Francis, and the speaking in French all the time, and the fact that he'd wanted me to go home alone. Secondly I noticed the bruising on Francis' neck. At least he knew better then to mess with me. Thirdly I saw my wrist, I'm sure the original damage I'd done to it had been intensified by the strangling. Finally I saw-

"Ah! 'The hell! Why are you so close?"

Ivan.

"Checking on you, podsolnechnik."

"Didn't I say you'd done enough!"

"Obviously not, I had to knock you out to calm down."

"You did what?"

"Well, when you starting choking Francis, I just pinched you so you'd sleep. You were to excited. Then Tino told me that your wrist was hurt and needed to be looked at, so Matt told me to take you here."

"You little-" I tried to push him with my good hand but he caught it and started to chuckle,

"Don't want to hurt your girly wrists again, da?" I snatched my wrist away, and shot him a dirty look.

"Matt...Matty!" Matt sat up and pushed his hair back, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh...I just had the weirdest dream..." He said, quietly, eyes still adjusting to the light. He looked over at Ivan. "You really need to stop doing that."

"I'll see what I can do."

"You guys are so fuckin' weird..." The room fell silent. "So, when can I go?"

"Well, dad should be back in a sec..."

inutile - Useless

Ils n'ont pas à connaître. - They don't have to know.

Resistance is futile, Alfred. Futile. BTW: Ever heard the song HateFuck by The Bravery? Ivan's theme song? I think yes.

Revised since original posting. :O Revising the whole story. Slowly but surely.