"No, oh God no…." Nina's panicked mind wailed, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the apalling apparition, her breath coming in choked, terrified gasps. "It's not real…it's just my imagination…..it's just another hallucination…..it's not real….." Somehow, the thought was even more disquieting.
"What's happening to me?"
Nina opened her eyes and dragged them upwards to confront the mirror, only to see a pair of alarmed brown eyes gazing back at her. If she could have, she would have laughed; of course there was nothing there but her own reflection. The black swan was nothing but a figment of her own imagination.
Or more precisely, that of Pytor Ilyitch Tchaikovsky.
Nina swayed a bit in front of the mirror, a gesture the reflection dutifully followed. There was nothing out of the ordinary; nothing whatsoever. If Nina had been able, she would have laughed in relief. But as it was, she was too frightened, too confused. And she was tired, so soulfully weary of fighting off the hallucinations that had been plaguing her for months now, each one more bone-chillingly frightening than the one before it. She sank to the ground in a shivering heap, wrapping her long arms around herself, trying to regain control of her breathing and, more importantly, her mental equilibrium.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a knock on her door. Groaning, Nina got up to answer it, and was somewhat surprised to see Lily.
"Hey Nina…." She said, and then trailed off. "Nina?"
"Lily." Nina said, inwardly wincing at the curtness of her reply. "What are you doing here?"
"Thomas sent me to find you. He said to meet him in the principle's studio in five." Lily replied, a look of concern on her face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Nina lied. The words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
"Yeah, and I'm Hillary Clinton," Lily countered easily, pushing her way past Nina and taking a seat in the chair in front of the vanity. Nina almost envied the easy confidence that she exuded. "So….what's up?" Lily asked.
"Nothing. Everything's" alright," Nina protested.
"Nina, didn't we just go through this? You're anything but-"
"Lily, I really don't want to talk about it," Nina broke in.
Lily nodded slowly "Okay," She said softly, and Nina could tell that she was hurt at being dismissed. Nothing she could do about that. "Well, Lily said, then let's get you up to the studio before Thomas sends out bloodhounds." Nina climbed to her feet and allowed Lily to steer her from the room and down the corridors, still feeling as though her veins contained ice water rather than blood. She drew in several deep breaths in a vain attempt to steady the frantic beating of her heart.
"You're sure you don't want to talk?" Lily asked. Nina shook her head. "Whatever this is, you'll get through it," Lily whispered into her ear, and with a small shove, pushed her into the studio.
"Nice of you to join us, Nina," Thomas Leroy's voice reverberated against the brick walls of the small studio. Nina couldn't quite tell if he was being facetious or not, but that wasn't unusual for Thomas, and Nina had long since decided that the energy of trying to decide was wasted.
"What are we working on?" Nina took the fear of the past few minutes and pushed it into the periphery of her mind. During rehearsals, Nina was nothing if not the consummate professional, and she wasn't about to let a few minutes of panic ruin rehearsal.
"We'll start with the Black Swan variation," Thomas clarified. "It's been the more challenging of the two, so it's as good a place as any to start."
Nina nodded, and took up position with David, her co-star.
"Maestro," Thomas commanded.
The music started, and Nina lost herself in it; lost all sense of herself, all sense of space and time. If there was anything she had learned from the experience of dancing the role of the Swan Queen, it was that control was overrated; her technique was solid, and she knew that. She supposed she had always known that. But what had been lacking from her dancing, from her life for far too long, was passion. And so, for these few minutes, the horror of the last few months melted away, and she allowed herself to simply be swept away by the thrill of dancing.
That is, until Thomas interjected, shattering both the spell and her concentration.
"That was….absolutely ecstatic," he said, and Nina's face lit up with a smile. "But it wasn't sexual." Her smile crumbled. "Did you even feel David's touch?" Thomas asked. Truthfully, Nina had scarcely noticed what David had been doing; she had been too caught up in her own private little thrill of dancing. "How is it that you can put on such a sensual performance one night, and be so frigid the next time you rehearse the part?" Thomas' voice held a note of something that came dangerously close to derision.
Nina wanted to scream out in frustration, both at Thomas and at herself; Thomas for his unforgiving, demanding nature, and herself because she knew exactly why she had reverted to her previous frigidity. She was deathly afraid. Connecting to the role once had meant enduring months of brutally terrifying hallucinations, one of which had ended with a shard of mirror buried in her abdomen. And while she didn't remember the pain, she could vividly recall the sensation of the warm, slick blood gushing out beneath her hands, struggling to remain conscious even as her very life leaked out between her fingers.
And now, to make matters even more alarming, she had just hallucinated again, not once, but twice within the span of the last twenty-four hours.
"Go back and do it again," Thomas commanded. Nina numbly obeyed, taking up position with David. Not five minutes had elapsed before Nina was once again commanded to repeat the movement. The next time, she was at least allowed to complete it, only to see Thomas shaking his head, disappointment clouding his glacial blue eyes. "Nina-"
"I know, Thomas, okay?" The words had escaped almost in a snarl, something she would have expected more from Lily than herself. "David, let's do it again." This time, she would have to abandon herself; she was fed up with the frustration, the incessant pressure. The thought alone was enough to send tiny rivulets of fear coursing down her spine, and suddenly, she felt as though all the warmth had been unexpectedly sucked from the small studio. But she was a dancer, after all, and had long since become accustomed to the fact that it would be every bit as mentally punishing as it was physically. So she dutifully took up position with David, searching for the dark, primal corner of her own mind where she knew the black swan resided. And even before she started dancing, she knew that this time would be different; this time she would be able to connect to Odile's raw sexuality. She was acutely aware of David's strong hands on her body; her skin seemed to tingle with a sudden electric charge. She felt as though she had grabbed a hold of a live wire, and then suddenly, Nina was sublimely, blissfully lost.
Nina ended the dance just before the Coda, panting with exertion and a built up heat that she didn't think had anything to do with the physical energy she had just expended. She glanced towards Thomas.
"That was….better, Nina," he said. For the second time that day, Nina felt the frustration creeping up her skin. "It was better. But if you really want to soar, you need to let go." Hadn't she just done that? Well, no…not entirely. It had certainly felt like it at the time, but in retrospect, Nina knew that she hadn't been able to quiet the voice of fear. Her torn mind just hadn't quite been ready to face the beautifully lethal disaster that was the black swan. "Let's break here for today," Thomas said, sighing in a momentary concession of defeat. "Nina, you've been away from this for six weeks; you need to build your strength back gradually or you'll injure yourself. We'll work on going a little longer each day." Nina opened her mouth to protest, but one glance from Thomas told her that he would have none of it. "David, I'll have Lily partner you for the rest of the day. She's the alternate; she should practice the role a bit too."
For once, Nina didn't bristle at the mention of Lily. She took it as a good sign; perhaps she was one the road to recovery after all. The thought cheered her up somewhat as she rode the subway back to her apartment. She checked her watch; it was 5:30. More than enough time. Once she got back, Nina did not rest, as she had been ordered, but instead headed into her small studio to dance. She practiced for hours, long into the night, until at last she crawled into her bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.