A/N For the person who asked, this is Sasha/Romannot Michelle/Sasha slash. It is also set loosely after 1.13, but I'm not paying to close attention with the actual storyline though :P
"And that's it for today, folks." Michelle Sims said, motioning with her hand for the girls and boys to drop their positions, which they did with a loud sigh of relief. "Oh, don't be like that – you guys, this is dance, not cheerleading, not girl scouts – and that means that there's a 99% chance that you're gonna have to dance, got it? See you all next class." She called as the girls started gathering their stuff.
Sasha was the first out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind her as she pulled her gray sweatshirt over her head.
"What's up with her?" Ginny asked Boo as they unlaced their ballet shoes.
"I have no idea." Boo answered. "She's barely said a word to me today."
"Well if 'barely said a word' means 'completely ignoring', then yeah, same here." Tall, graceful Melanie added, shaking the tight bun out of her auburn hair.
"It's probably her parents again." Boo said knowingly as she pulled on her sweater.
"Boo, she doesn't even live with her parents anymore." Melaine said, rolling her eyes. "She has a house and a boyfriend – she's practically an adult, what does she have to worry about?"
"Well, I know I have a lot to worry about." Ginny groaned. "My father called me 'Claire' on the phone last night – he thought I was my mother – god, I'm 16 and I'm already my mother."
"Come on, Claire, Charlie's waiting." Melanie said, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "If we make him wait any longer he'll forget why he's here and just drive home."
The three girl hurried down the stairs and into the waiting car.
Back in the studio, Michelle Sims sat down on one of the folding chairs and took a long sip from her water bottle, sweeping the room with her eyes to make sure there wasn't any stray bags that had been left behind. In doing so, she caught a glance at herself in the floor-length mirrors that lined the studio. Reflectively, she reached to smooth out her light brown hair, noticing – as she always did – the ringless state of her forth finger. And, as she always did, she thought of Hubbell.
Hubbell. The husband she never had – or had for a rough 24 hours, actually. The husband who, although she barely knew him, had brought her here, to Paradise, a place that she had slowly let herself be captured by. Where would she be now? Michelle wondered, had she never agreed to marry Hubbell. Still in Vegas, she guessed, with Talia and... Who else did she have there? Not, certainly, as many people as she had here. Fanny, Truly, Godot...and the girls, of course. If she'd stayed in Vegas, she'd never have been a dance teacher. In all honesty, there was still a part of her that inwardly rebelled at the idea of teaching – the same part of her that dreamed of Vegas, she supposed. But there was a third part of her...the part that dreamed of New York and the stage, the part of her that yearned to fulfill the dreams she'd crafted long ago, as a child with stars in her eyes and a mask on her face. It was too late, she knew, but she still regretted the direction her life had gone in, still wondered what would happen if she'd never left for Vegas. If time hadn't claimed her, she wondered, who would she be? Not the Michelle Sims that taught ballet at the Paradise Dance Academy and lived in a guesthouse, that was for sure.
It was something she tried not to think about too often.
As she readied the studio for her next class, Michelle's thoughts drifted to Sasha. Her heart ached for the tall dancer with the guarded, restless eyes that reminded her so much of herself.
She hoped that she could save Sasha from the mistakes that she herself had made.