"Give it up for Sami'a of the Bongo Bongo islands. What a performance!" Tara exclaimed as Sami'a finished his number. The cheers ran wild among the audience.
Mikkel growled, "I'll show him," all cordial interactions between them forgotten.
It had been a magnificent performance. For all his support of Mikkel, Jude had to admit Sami'a knew his stuff. He had all the basic and advanced moves of twerking and added an exotic flair to it.
He'd followed Mikkel backstage to show his support.
Mikkel was second in line to perform and Jude was the last, so he had ample time to get back to his comrades and prepare.
"Don't worry about it, focus on what you'll do instead," He said.
Mikkel slapped his face and then his buttocks.
"Oh, I'm amped up alright, get ready to see something you'll never forget."
He stepped forward to stand between the curtains with his back turned towards the stage.
"Our next contestants comes from the prestigious school of Meredith Lee, Ladies and futas, Mikkel Brooks!" The crowd cheered but Mikkel stayed put. He waited until the crowd grew silent and signalled the technicians to turn on the music. Three loud dum, dum, dudums broke the silence. The curtains opened and another three dum, dum, dudums followed. Mikkel got down on all fours and shook his ass to each and a double shake to the dudum, then all hell broke loose. The music turned frantic and Mikkels backup dancers took to the stage and they all shook it to the beat. Mikkel widened his stance, squatted down, swayed his butt left and right and matched it to the pace of the music. The audience went insane, their cheers were so loud it almost drowned out the bass and the vibrations could be felt within the air. Mikkel hopped backwards towards them, dropping his butt on the floor with each step and bounced off it. The arena looked as a wind blowing through grass on a vast plain as eighty thousand people waved their arms.
The pace was intense and Mikkels top plastered to his skin from his sweat and his hot pants curled up between his asscheeks. He was unperturbed though and kept increasing his pace.
The bass rose into a crescendo and Mikkels backup dancers gathered at the centre of the stage and made a human tower. Mikkel approached, climbed up and stood on the top, twitching his buttocks to the beat.
Then as the music hit the last beat, Mikkel Jumped off. Ass first he struck the stage like a bomb dropped from a B-52.
It might have been Jude's imagination, but he was sure he felt a tremor underneath as Mikkel's butt struck the floor.
Chris fumbled with the buttons of her suit jacket. She hadn't worn a suit since she graduated military school. It wouldn't do to show up in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt though and Meredith had been kind enough to lend one of hers.
Their ride parked outside the arena.
"Would you like for me to pick you up after? I can be here when the show ends," the driver said.
"You don't have to hurry yourself, Tania. Find some place to watch the show and pick us up after, there's no rush," Meredith said.
"Thank you m'am, I appreciate it."
They got out of the car. There was already a large crowd waiting for the doors to open.
A futa approached them.
"Good evening m'am, you're Ms Lee I assume."
"That's me."
"Great. My names Sara, Mrs Epstein assigned me to guide you through the arena. If you'd follow me, please."
Chris was honoured to have been invited by Meredith to watch the championship. She wouldn't have been able to afford a ticket, least of all get her hands on one. The tickets were in huge demand, it was the biggest event of the year and only the filthy rich could afford one. Others had to save all year just to be able get a back row seat.
They followed Sara around the arena and entered through a side entrance.
"There will be a welcoming reception in the VIP lounge, were food and drinks will be served."
She led them up a flight of stairs and took a right. They arrived at two large oaken door with shiny handles. Two burly futas, dressed in black suits and sunglasses, stood on guard outside. Sara brought out a note and showed it to the guards who ran their eyes through it and then opened the doors for them.
"Welcome madames."
Meredith bowed her head in acknowledgement and they entered the VIP lounge.
"T-thank you," Chris muttered and followed in her tracks. She was nervous already. She wasn't used to people opening doors for her or calling her ma'm. She was a small town futa and it was only her second visit to New York.
The VIP lounge was lavishly furnished, ornate paintings hung on the walls and the tapestries were dark with the golden imperial emblems stamped upon them. Servants walked around and served drinks to the guests.
"Would you like a glass of champagne m'am?" a male servant said to her.
Chris looked at him in surprise.
"M-m'am? You mean me?"
The servant nodded
"It's a Duc Croéun 72, hailed as one of the best years in recent memory."
"I guess I can try one."
Chris had never tasted champagne before.
She took a glass from the tray and sipped at it. Her eyes shot wide open. It was sweet and tangent, and there were more flavours within than she could name.
"So good. Is this really champagne?"
"Yes m'am," The servant smiled, "Just call for me if you want another. There's also an open bar in the other room where you can order anything you'd like."
"Thanks."
The servant curtsied and moved along.
Meredith and Mrs Fawlorne moved to talk to some of Meredith's acquaintances. Chris thought about joining them but decided not to. They were all dressed up in expensive dresses and exquisite jewelry made of gold and silver, adorned with diamonds and various gems. She had no right to intrude upon such fine people. Instead, she moved to the side and stood by a tinted window with a view of the outside and sipped on her champagne. The cue to get in had grown since they arrived and sprawled a quarter of a mile down the road.
"Chris, is that you?"
She turned to see a face she recognised.
"Tina!"
Chris immediately straightened her back and saluted, nearly dropping her glass in the process. Tina was her former commanders in the Army. For some reason, Tina kept in contact with her, even after she was released from service. Chris couldn't understand why a futa of her rank took an interest in a lowly soldier as her.
"At ease Chris, we're not in the army anymore."
"Yes m'am," Chris said and lowered her hand.
"And you don't have to call me M'am, Tina will do."
"Yes M'a... I mean Tina." It felt strange to address her commander by name.
"Fancy running into you, here of all places."
"Meredith, the headmistress where I work, was kind to invite me."
"Ah yes, Meredith Lee's school for boys wasn't it?"
"Yes, m'am.. Tina."
Tina wore a teal dress that shimmered as she moved. Chris had never seen her this way before. To her she was Commander Tina. Stern, resolute and dependable.
"I'm happy to have run into you Chris, I was thinking just the other day it was some time since I heard from you and I've been meaning to write you a letter. How are things at the school?"
"They're great, thank you. I've settled in and I enjoy the work I do. Meredith is a great boss and she cares for her students. I'm happy to be a part of it."
"That's good to hear. I always knew you would make something of yourself."
"oh, I wouldn't say that, I'm only a guard. But I'm happy where I'm at and I feel that the work I do is important."
"Protecting boys is one of the most important jobs in the empire, you should be proud of yourself."
"Thank you... Tina. It honors me you think so."
"But of course! Boys are a valuable commodity. After all, have we not gathered here today to celebrate their beauty?"
"It is as you say."
"Your school will have two contestants this year, is that right? You must be very proud of them."
"Yes, we have Mikkel who is a twerk dancer and Jude who does ballet."
"Jude," Tina repeated, drawing out the vocals, "I recognise that name."
Chris blushed.
"I might've mentioned him in one of my letters"
"ah, now I remember."
Tina gave her a playful look.
Chris swallowed and decided to change the subject into something less embarrassing but before she could Meredith walked up to her.
"Chris, I didn't know you had friends in these circles."
"Ms Meredith, this is my Commander Tina."
"Former Commander," Tina said and grasped Meredith's hand.
"Pleasure to meet you Tina, and I have to apologise for snatching Chris away, though I must say we're thrilled to have her. She's an excellent guard."
"Of that I have no doubt. I'm glad she's found a home with you."
They shared a cordial smile and then Meredith turned to Chris, "We're going to sit down and dine would you like to join us."
"Excuse me if I interject," Tina said "but do you think I could borrow Chris for a moment, we have a lot to catch up upon. If Chris is okay with it."
"absolutely, I'd love to" Chris said. She worried that Meredith would take offence though, but she only nodded and smiled at her.
"Well then, I'll fetch you later when the event starts."
Chris bowed to her and Meredith left with Mrs Fawlorne to take their seats in the dining hall.
"Come Chris," Tina said and grabbed her arm "There is much I'd like to ask you. Let's get another drink and then you can tell me everything about this boy Jude."
"Eh?! T-there's really nothing to tell."
"oh we'll see about that. It certainly didn't sound like 'nothing' in all those letters you sent me."
She wore a sly smile and dragged Chris towards the bar.
"And that's our seventh contestant, Douglas, the mimicking boy"
The audience was all smiles after Douglas's humorous performance. It might not have been a show to prickle the heart, or the crotch for that matter, but it was a nice change of pace for the audience to have a laugh and now they were ready for some more hot action.
"For our eight contestant, a proud northerner, the first seed from the Jarldoms and the purest of his kind. Let's give it up for Sven Hafstein," Tara shouted.
Avery held his mic with both hands and was already flush red.
Jude had begun to warm up with his club. There was ample of time left before they had to get serious but it was wise to start slow, get the blood flowing and stretch out the muscles. When he heard Sven's name he stopped and turned to the screen. His heart made to jump out of his throat and he gave a silent prayer to wish Sven good luck.
Sven appeared on the screen, dressed in a tight brown leather outfit that exposed his muscular figure but still left something for the imagination. His set was a display of strength. He hurled logs across the stage, lifted heavy boulders above his head and climbed obstacles, stopping between each exercise to strike a pose and flex his muscles. When he was halfway through, he grabbed his leather tunic and ripped it apart to bare his sculpted chest. His muscles shone in the spotlight and a collective sigh soughed through the arena.
When he neared the end of his act, he walked to the edge of the stage and grabbed a mic.
"For my last number I'll need a volunteer."
A loud cry rose as thousands of futas screamed for him to pick them.
"How about you," he said and pointed at Avery, who peeked through from behind the curtain.
"Eh, m-m-me?!"
The crowd cheered Avery's name and he was more or less forced to step onto the stage, lest he dampened their enthusiasm. Avery was so small he barely reached Sven's chest, the difference was so striking they could've been separate genders. Sven took to a knee before Avery.
"Will you help me?"
Avery nodded, too nervous to speak. Sven put a hand down and motioned for him to sit on it. Avery swallowed and sat down and then Sven pressed him up until he hovered above his head. Avery dangled with his feet and tried to keep his balance.
"Don't worry, you're perfectly safe," Sven said and placed him atop both his hands. Then he bent his knees and hurled him into the air. Avery gave out a high pitched cry, shocked at being thrown into the air. A hiss traveled through the arena as Avery's dress swayed and his crotch was revealed for a split second. As he came down Sven caught him in his arms midair. Avery curled up against his chest, there was not a single spot on his face that wasn't a deep red. It looked like a scene out of a romantic tale, two lovers reunited at last.
Jude glared at the screen, his positive preposition towards Avery gone. Left was a burning sense of jealousy.
"What a performance," Tara called out, "A round of applause for this magnificent male from the Jarldoms, Sven Hafstein!" Sven let Avery down and bowed in acknowledgement of the crowd.
"Puh, that was quite a hot performance wouldn't you say?" Tara said to Avery who stood swaying next to her.
"Owhiieeuoh," he let out an incomprehensible noise and faltered forward.
"Hey watch out" tara called and caught him just as he was about to fall.
An organiser rushed to the stage and helped Avery get off it.
"Ladies and Futas, I think it became a bit too much for Avery so I will take you through our next line of contestants while he is backstage to rest up."
The crowd let out a mix of laughs and drawn out 'aws'.
"Moving forward."
Jude fumed, pacing back and forth in the lounge. The image of Avery in Sven's arms burnt into his mind. It took great power of will to calm himself. He breathed, in and out, and slowly his anger evaporated. Left was a sense of shame. When did he become so jaundiced? If Sven and Avery had fallen in love, it was his duty as a boy to support them. He forced the thought out of his head to focus on the task at hand.
He felt a surge of pride as he watched his comrades prepare. The whole club had lifted their game in a matter of weeks, everyone working together in perfect harmony.
The ninth performance passed, and the tenth and eleventh and then he heard the announcer's voice call out.
"Our twelfth contestant is one of the betting favourites, the first seed from France. He's the son of the esteemed Emilia of House Montfaucon. A round of applause for Antoiné."
Jude turned toward the screen. He was interested in seeing what Antoiné could do after his display of confidence. Antoiné leapt onto the scene, spun and tippy toed en pointé. His technique was flawless and graceful. The backup dancers entered but all the spotlight was on Antoiné, who relished the attention.
The audience was in awe and so was Jude. How was he supposed to compete with this? Antoiné had already gone well beyond the skill of a professional. He could, if he wished, take to the stage with the empire's finest and he would stand on par with them. Jude shook his head and looked away.
"Aren't you going to look Jude," Lukas asked.
"No, I'm not interested."
"But he's your competitor, don't you want to see what you're up against?"
Jude smiled and put a hand on Lukas' shoulder.
"I don't see him as that, we're all here for our own reasons. Antoiné might be here to show his splendour and be crowned the first male, but that's not my goal."
"What are you saying, don't you want to win?"
"I do, but that's not what's important. I'm here because of all the people who have supported me along the way. I realised something after my performance at the TV specials. The most important thing is not to win, or to show off your skills. I realised that the people around you who care, are the most important thing in the world. I wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't for all of you. When I step onto the stage, I do it for our headmistress, our school, the ballet club and for you Lukas."
Lukas looked at him wide-eyed.
"Jude," he mumbled and then grabbed him in a tight hug, "I'll do my best."
Antoiné finished his number and nimbly walked off the stage under the audience revered cheers. His eyes alight with narcissism.
"Wow, that was something else," Fawlorne said.
"Indeed," Meredith agreed.
Chris stayed silent. She knew little of ballet but even she could see that Antoiné was a master of the art. She appreciated the graceful moves but there was something unsavory about the boy. Something about the way he looked at the audience as if they were a bunch of dogs to be tempted by a loin of meat. As if he was standing on a pedestal to be worshipped by his lessers.
This was night and day compared to Judes ballet. She couldn't comment on technique, but the emotions she felt watching Jude's dance was that of an unfettered beauty moving, not to be beautiful, but because he couldn't stop himself. There was no arrogance or pride in his dance, only the pure joy of dancing.
She sighed, such philosophical thoughts were unlike her. Was it the alcohol?
She couldn't remember the last time she had this much. Tina kept ordering drinks over and over and now everything glowed and the colours of the arena vibrated.
Strange thoughts ran around in her head. Maybe it was the atmosphere but she couldn't help drifting back to the memories of her and Jude. The time she'd seen him dance at the pond by himself, and what followed thereafter. When she, Fawlorne and Meredith took a bath with him and spent the night in the cottage.
Her loins shuddered at the thought and there was an embarrassing reaction from her crotch. Stretching the fabric of her pants close to the bursting point. Why didn't manufacturers take into considerance the nature of futas when they made clothes? Was stretch fabric too much to ask for? She desperately tried to conceal the hillock that had formed in her pants.
Had she looked around she might have not been as embarrassed. There was hardly a single futa in the arena who was not stiff to the point of bursting. During the break there had been a rush to the toilets, of futas that wanted to relieve themselves in more ways than one.
The event moved along. Each contestant amazing in their own right.
Chris was not into the bigger muscular boys, she liked the petite and cute ones, but even she was caught off guard by the spectacular display of the Jarldom male. She didn't know males could be that strong.
She wondered if she could put him on his back in a wrestling contest, probably, but what if he put her down instead?
There was a strange reaction down below at the thought.
"Eh, why are you reacting to that," She said out loud.
"Sorry Chris, you said something?" Fawlorne turned to her.
"Oh, It was nothing," she said, waving her hands in front of her.
She was definitely drunk.
They sat in the tenth row from the stage. She was both honored and ashamed Meredith would give her such an expensive gift.
The twentieth contestant finished their number, a german boy singing to a Technopop vibe.
"It's baffling, some of the boys they send to represent their states," Meredith commented, "Was that the best they could find?"
The performance had been awkward at best. What worked in one state might be laughed at in another. Germans, in particular, had a strange taste and there was always one german contestant who botched it at the finals.
The arena would've been dead quiet if it wasn't for the german cheering squad that made enough noise for the rest of them, howling their aggressive chants.
Chris figured it had its allure, the pop and glamour, though it seemed out of place compared to the other contestants.
"Jude is after the next one," she said.
"I hope he's not too nervous," Fawlorne said.
They all envisioned what happened during his TV special and prayed it wouldn't repeat itself.
"I'm sure he'll be okay" Meredith said, trying sound reassuring but her tone exposed her worry.
The twenty first contestant took to the stage, a boy from Britain, who was a puppeteer and comedian. As with the german boy, cultural differences crippled his performance. His dry humour might've gone well in his home state but in America it fell flat. A few nervous laughs scattered across the audience but no one was really sure when they were supposed to laugh or where the punchlines were, or if there were any at all.
The boy walked off the stage, doing his best to keep a dignified expression, but it was evident he suffered from the audience's lack of enthusiasm.
Chris felt sympathy for him and before she could think better of it she stood up and clapped her hands.
"I didn't understand your jokes boy, but it was very brave of you. Better luck next time."
Her voice carried across the silent arena to reach the boy. He turned to look at her and smiled as he left the stage.
Chris sat down and felt her cheeks flare up. What had gotten into her today?
"Chris, I'm impressed," Meredith said, "That was a fine gesture."
Fawlorne nodded in agreement.
"Thank you, Meredith." It felt strange using her name but Meredith had insisted upon it when they were not in school.
They turned back to the stage, it was time for Jude to perform. The tension rose. Those who had not seen the live broadcast, had read about it. Would there be a repeat of the previous disaster or would Jude be able to perform this time around?
They waited, and they waited and still there was no sight of him.
"What's going on," Chris asked, "shouldn't it have started already?"
"Something's wrong," Fawlorne said and clasped her hands in prayer.
"He will be fine," Meredith tried to reassure them.
"Come on Jude, we believe in you."
They'd been waiting for over ten minutes and there was still no word from the organisers. The audience grew restless and some muttered in irritation.
Then, suddenly, the light went out.
"Jude, you're up in thirty," Yuta called to him, "you should make your way backstage."
He took a deep breath.
"Guys, gather round please."
The lounge was empty except for his group, everyone else had already been called in.
He looked them over and took comfort that they all seemed focused. Someone was missing though.
"Where's Lukas?"
The boys shook their heads but then a fourth grade boy, the youngest among them, spoke up.
"He went to the bathroom I think."
"When was this?" Yuta interjected.
The little boy looked at the clock, "Twenty minutes ago."
"What?" Yuta and Jude exclaimed.
"Didn't I tell you to inform me if you go anywhere," Yuta said to the boy. Her eyes flared in anger. He squirmed at the spot and averted his gaze to the ground.
"It's not your fault," Jude said, "but do you know where he went?"
"Sorry, I don't."
Jude looked at Yuta.
"We should look for him," she said and he nodded in response.
"The rest of you needs to get backstage. Tell them Jude is on his way."
Jude and Yuta took off.
"Let's go to the nearest toilets," she said and led him down a corridor to the right. When they arrived they were met by a sign that said 'out of service'.
"What? This wasn't here an hour ago."
"Which are the other ones nearby?"
"there's several," she looked at her arm watch, "fuck, I should've payed more attention."
Jude felt his gut churn. They didn't have time for this, the other boys were surely nervous by now.
"We won't be able to check all of them. Are you sure you can't do this without Lukas?"
"Yes, he is the second lead. His absence will be felt, the audience will notice."
Yuta sighed.
"Okay then, I guess we'll just have to check the toilets one after the other until we find him. You should prepare for the eventuality we don't."
They set off running. Lukas was not at the first or the second toilets they searched. When they arrived at the third, there was a young futa intern leaning against the wall outside.
"Is the toilet occupied?" Yuta asked her.
"yep, just get in cue," she answered and then recognised Jude, "hey, shouldn't you be going up soon, what are you doing here?"
"We don't have time to explain, did you see the one before you enter?"
"Nope, been waiting forever."
"This must be it," Jude said to Yuta.
"This is an emergency, if you'll excuse us." Yuta said, stepped forward and knocked on the door.
"Excuse me, we have an emergency out here. There's a boy missing and we must know he's not in there. Please respond so we can make sure you're not him." there was no reply. Yuta knocked once more.
"Lukas are you in there? Your group is about to get on stage soon, please come out. Jude needs you."
There was still nothing. Jude got a terrible premonition.
"Yuta, I think I know what happened."
She looked at him bewildered. Jude glanced over at the intern and Yuta took his meaning.
"Will you excuse us please, we need some privacy."
"Hey, I was here first."
"This is an emergency, you take your leave right now or I'll have Mrs Epstein know you obstructed us at this moment."
Yuta straightened and glared at the intern who shrunk away before her gaze.
"Okay, okay. I'll go."
As the intern left Yuta turned back to Jude.
"Now tell me, quick, what's going on?"
He told her of the breastmilk and how he'd given it to Lukas to calm him down.
"You did what?!" Yuta pulled at her hair "How could you have done something so stupid?"
He looked down in shame.
"No matter, what is done is done. We have to get him out of there. I don't think I can break this door with brute force alone."
Jude looked at the lock, it was the kind that had a small cross in it, which could be turned with a pin to open it up.
"Could I borrow your keys?"
"Sure, but I don't see how that'll help."
She handed her keys to him. He picked out one of the smaller ones and put the tip into the cross. It fit. Then he turned the lock and with a click the door swung open. Inside, on the floor, Lukas lay passed out. The thermos jude had given him had rolled the wall, a small drop of milk hanging from its mouth.
"Lukas, hey Lukas! wake up," Jude said and shook his shoulders but there was no reaction.
"Ohh this is bad."
There was no way he could do this without Lukas. It would be the same thing all over again, the failure, the shame and disappointed looks. It would be such a disgrace upon his school it would never go away.
"What are we going to do?" He implored Yuta who tried to slap Lukas awake without success. Time ticked away, there was only fifteen minutes left until Jude was supposed to perform on stage.
His chest constrained and he was moments away from crying.
"Please Yuta you must do something!"
She bit her lip.
"There's one thing I can do but it's highly inappropriate."
"Do it then, we have no time," He shouted at her. It was rude to be so willful with a futa but Jude couldn't think straight in his panicked state.
"Okay, you should get back to your group and prepare."
Jude wanted to protest but Yuta gave him a stern gaze.
"On the goddess I swear to you, I will get Lukas back. Do your best to stall them. Now go!"
Jude sprang down the corridor, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He arrived backstage and joined his group.
"What happened?" they asked as Jude put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
"We found him."
"Where is he then?"
"He will be here." He struggled to get the words out through his laboured breathing. "Yuta promised on the goddess she'd get him here."
To make a promise upon the goddess was a holy thing and something that shouldn't be done on a whim. It could even have legal repercussions.
"What we need to do now is to get ready."
Jude spotted Mrs Epstein storming his way, pushing people out of the way.
"Where have you been," she shouted at him. Jude tensed up.
"T-there was an emergency."
Hanna grabbed his arm, nails digging into his skin, and pulled him aside.
"Tell me."
He told her about Lukas but left out the part about the breastmilk. Fawlorne shouldn't have to get into trouble over this, it was his fault.
"That's terrible," she exclaimed, "I will have a team of paramedics sent right away."
"No, you can't. Uhm, I mean please don't."
"What? why not?"
"Yuta said she would bring him and that she would have to do something that wasn't appropriate."
"Something not appropriate?" Hanna repeated and then her eyes widened.
"She wouldn't, no she couldn't. She..."
"So if it's possible, could you delay the performance until Lukas shows up?"
Hanna stared at him intently, her disapproving look tearing him apart.
"Do you have any idea of the implications of what you just suggested? As of this moment over a billion people is watching the live broadcast, even the empress. You would make the empress wait?" Her voice trembled with rage, "First the specials and now this. Have you no shame?"
Jude crumbled to the ground and prostrated himself before her. Tears streamed from his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he whimpered.
Everyone backstage looked. Antoiné stood at the other end and smirked at his pathetic display.
Hanna sighed.
"Get up."
Jude stood and tried to contain his shameful sobbing.
"There now," Hanna said and dried his tears with a napkin, "calm yourself."
He took a deep breath.
"Ten minutes, that's all I can promise and then I'm pulling you from the contest, okay?"
He nodded, "Thank you Mrs Epstein."
She pushed him back to his group and took her leave.
He tried to collect himself and addressed the other boys.
"Okay guys," he paused to force down a sob, "Mrs Epstein has been kind enough to give us ten minutes for Lukas to get back. Let's do our best to be ready when he arrives."
They looked worried and he wanted to say something but couldn't the procure the words.
The British boy finished his set. He'd not been well received and a muffled chatter was heard among the audience. Then someone called out.
"I didn't understand your jokes boy, but it was very brave of you. Better luck next time."
It was Chris. Jude's chest hurt when he heard her voice. He wanted to impress her, but it was all hanging on a thread at the moment. He prayed for Lukas to show up and kept glancing towards the corridor.
The minutes passed and still there was no sign of him. Five minutes of the ten had now passed. Six, seven, eight. Jude tried to will time to move slower. He couldn't contain his anguish anymore, pacing left and right, only stopping to gaze back at the corridor. There was no sign of Lukas.
As in a dream he saw Mrs Epstein approach. No, please no. Don't let this happen, don't let it end, he prayed to the goddess.
"Jude," Hanna said, "It's time to decide."
His thoughts raced, what if Lukas was just around the corner?
What would happen if he tried to do it all by himself?
The play was set into two parts, the first being roughly five minutes and the second ten.
They'd not prepared for him to do the first solo and even if he did it alone the second act would be impossible without Lukas. Was it possible to do the first? He was the one who'd instructed the ballet club, after all, and knew each part in detail. How would he go about it, everything was prepared for them to dance as a group.
"Jude," Hanna pressed.
"I'll do it," he said, "but I need two minutes and I'll have to talk to the light technician.
Hanna sighed, her patience wearing thin. But they'd already gone so far for him so what would another two minutes do.
"Fine, but If you're not on stage in two minutes, I'm calling it. The committee is already in an outrage. Don't disappoint me."
Jude swallowed.
"Yes Mrs Epstein, I won't."
He turned to his club.
"Guys, this is it. Lukas has not arrived."
"Oh no! Will it be cancelled?"
"I'm sorry. I know we trained for this as a team but I will have to do this first part by myself. If Lukas still hasn't showed by the second act, I'll take full responsibility."
He bowed his head before them.
"Please forgive me."
They all looked horrified but there was no time to console them so he left to speak to the light technician.
His thoughts wandered to Chris, who smiled at him each morning and always supported him, to Meredith, who'd taken him in on a whim and given him a chance at life, to Fawlorne, who'd guided him to make him the person he was today, and last, to his parents, who'd given their lives for his.
It was his innermost desire to make them proud.
"What's going on," Chris shouted. The arena had turned pitch dark with only the emergency signs alight.
"Is there a fire?" someone asked and an anxiousness spread among the crowd.
Then two spotlights turned on above the scene to shine two bright circles on the stage. Within the right circle stood Jude, standing on the tip of his toes with one leg stretched above his head.
"It's Jude" Fawlorne exclaimed, voice full of relief.
The curtains rolled back to reveal a light show of a forest with a replica of a large oaken tree at the center.
A violin played a soothing tune, long mellow strokes that evaporated the audience's irritation. Jude let his leg fall down and took a few graceful steps towards the oak. He began dancing around it with long strides, spinning around every second step and throwing glitter over it from a basket in his hands.
Jude tipped around the stage in perfect harmony to the tune, tending to the tree's branches and roots. He stepped up to the oaken tree and hugged it tight. Then he stepped out of the spotlight, the contrast was so distinct it appeared as if he had vanished alltogether. A moment later he stepped in the other spotlight but his demeanor had changed. His clothes were the same but his body language was different. He stood on his toes, stretching to his full length with his chest out. In the other spotlight his appearance had been mellow and subdued but now it was full of grace and disdain towards the first. He swung his left leg in a wide arch and then the other in a similar fashion, keeping his body still and staying en pointe at all times, giving an impression he was weightless.
Meredith wondered when his comrades would appear. Though Jude's grace expelled all thought from her mind and she watched his dance as if enchanted.
Jude returned to the first spotlight, and the role of the little forest faerie, and attempted to answer the other faerie. Trying to copy its moves but faltered and collapsed on the floor.
The lights conjoined and shrunk to confine him in a sphere, he looked so lonely and sad.
A large idol appeared in the sky, depicting the futa spring goddess, a wide hipped, large chested Futa. Her skin was bare and she wore only a flower garland atop her head. Jude looked up at the idol with a longing. Tears falling from his cheeks.
The violin played its final stroke and the light dimmed down until the stage was dark.
Jude made his way back behind the curtains and exhaled. It had been good enough considering the circumstances. He couldn't tell by the reception of the audience though, they had all stayed silent. He saw his comrades standing ready to enter the stage and there was Lukas. He rushed to him.
"Lukas, you're here!"
"I'm so sorry Jude. I know you told me to only take a single sip but I was so nervous so I took another and then it was so good I couldn't stop myself."
"It's okay, I'm happy you're here. Where's Yuta?"
"Mrs Epstein took her to her office for a talk."
Lukas smiled nervously, "She slapped some sense into me, if it wasn't for her I wouldn't be here."
Jude hummed in agreement and made a mental remark to thank her later.
"So are you ready to go?" He looked Lukas up and down. He was worried he'd be too tired to perform but he looked fresh and egging to go.
"More than I've ever been."
"Good, take your place with the others. Oh wait," Jude said and reached up to wipe off a small, white spot on his cheek, "Now you're ready."
Lukas went back to stand with the other boys. An organiser gave the thumbs up and they entered the scene. The stage was lit in colour. This was the part where the woodland faeries prepared to pay tribute to the spring goddess. They danced in a circle around the idol of the spring goddess that had once more been lowered from the ceiling.
Their ballet club teacher, Marielle, had agreed to play the goddess. She was sitting on a large wooden throne and would later be elevated onto the stage through a trapdoor. Her figure was perfect for the role with her ample bosom and wide hips. She didn't agree to play the role naked though, even when the boys implored her, but settled for a tight green dress adorned with flowers.
The boys in the club appreciated her, she was nice to them and always helped, sometimes even wiping them dry after showers.
Jude's attention was elsewhere though. Before he could get back to the stage he needed to change outfits. The boys introduction to the second act would last for two minutes so there were no seconds to waste. Two organisers rushed to his aide. He felt self-conscious in undressing before everyone but no one seemed to care. The new dress was made by a famous designer, named Felicia Donaveu. It had some extraordinary features but was hard to put on by himself, there were a lot of folds and crevices to be put into place.
The organisers stepped away and Mrs Epstein walked up to him.
"You're all done. Now it's time to show the world what you can do." She patted him on his rump. Jude blushed but felt happy about the attention. He curtsied and stepped forward to take his place on the stage. This was it. His fortune, rise or demise, hung on these next minutes.
He stepped onto the stage, bathed in the colours of the rainbow.
A moment of panic cinched his chest as he saw the vast sea of futas stretch out before him but then he saw Meredith, sitting with Chris and Fawlorne, and he calmed. It was as if they were the only ones sitting in the crowd. Indeed, they were the ones he wanted to impress.
He leapt onto the stage and began his act. The boys gathered around him in a circle and the light focused on them. They stretched to stand tall, hands on their hips. They all had wings but Jude had none.
He danced in their midst, swinging his legs, stepping and pirouetting.
The boys tapped their feet impatiently and shook their heads as he danced.
Then Jude swung his leg up in a wide arch, stepped to side and turned. Then another step and leg swing followed by a third step and a pirouette. He stopped and changed direction mid motion and repeated the sequence. The music rose to a climax and then abruptly stopped. Jude stood planted on the spot and his shoulders sagged, the disdain of the other faeries sucking the life out of his dance. Dragging his feet behind he stepped out of the light to disappear in the dark.
Meredith followed the scene rapt. The move he'd performed was not the same which he showed in her office, it was an even more advanced one. To change direction during such a sequence required complete control of the momentum and was something even masters struggled to achieve. She looked around and saw that the rest of the audience was as entranced as she was, were they aware of what they witnessed?
The performance moved on. The boys danced around the idol as Jude returned to tend to his tree, spinning around with lithe steps in a circle. The trapdoor opened and the large wooden throne of the spring goddess ascended. The audience gasped at her appearance, she looked mighty impressive. Dressed in a tight green dress, adorned with flower petals from top to toe and a garland atop her crown. Meredith knew Marielle had an impressive figure but she always hid it underneath wide dresses. She very much looked like the image of a goddess with her large breasts, held up by the tightness of her dress, and her wide hips perched upon her throne.
The boys danced to pay their respects. Marielle's face flushed and she shifted in her seat to hide her burgeoning erection.
They spun and leapt around in coordinated patterns. Then Jude entered the circle and the boys stopped and put their hands on their hips in same disapproving display as before. Jude danced before the goddess. This time he didn't falter though and his moves gained strength the longer he danced. His leaps got longer, his leg swings wider and he kept adding elements as he progressed. Marielle followed him with her eyes, chest heaving. She'd seen him perform it several times in training but it was something altogether different when done in a live performance. He looked as if in a trance.
To Jude the scene had transformed. He was no longer aware of the tens of thousand eyes following his every move. He was no longer in the Empress Arena. He was in a magical forest. He was Jude, the lonesome little faery who wished to pay homage to the spring goddess, to be loved and accepted by those precious to him.
The hem of his dress his dress unfolded as he danced, transforming him, spreading out to reveal patches of green and yellow that sparkled in the spotlights. Before the eyes of the empire he turned from a bland, insipid faery into a shining beauty, radiating with light.
He stopped before the goddess, arms splayed out in a graceful pose.
Marielle stared at him, unmoving with her mouth ajar. A boy whispered to her from behind.
"Marielle you're on."
She'd been so enthralled by Jude's dance she'd forgotten she was in an act.
None in the audience noticed though as all eyes were upon Jude.
Remembering her lines, Marielle spoke into the mic hidden underneath her dress. Her voice echoed through the silent arena.
"My child, what a beautiful dance. Don't be saddened by your lack of wings for you are not a woodland faery, you're an undergrowth faery. Let me show you, beautiful child, that there are more ways to fly than one."
She reached out and touched his lips with her index finger.
Jude immediately stretched, reaching his hands toward the sky, his body trembling as if he was about to lose control. Then he leapt and hit his heels together in a move called the brisé. He repeated it several times and then The other boys joined in and they all danced together. The music rose, the lights shone brighter and the dance got wilder. Jude stood in the center beneath Marielle's throne with all his friends next to him. Dancing faster and faster until he was moving at twice the speed of his comrades. A trombone signalled the end of the dance with a deep rumble and they all hunched down with their arms held high in reverence to their goddess.
Judes heart beat, adrenaline pumping through his veins. The lighting dimmed and the other boys rolled out the throne and left the stage. A single spotlight shone on Judes tree and he approached, sprinkling glitter as he'd done in the beginning. He glanced at the idol of the spring goddess hanging above, smiled, then lay down his basket and curled up at the base of the tree to sleep.
He was no longer the lonesome little faery.
Chris sat still, hands covering her mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. She was embarrassed to display such emotions in public but couldn't contain it. Judes performance had touched the very core of her heart.
In another part of the arena a woman cried more intensely than all the futas around her.
"I'm so sorry Jude. Never have I been more wrong about anything. Your heart's not broken, it's beautiful," Ms Starigold whispered underneath her breath.
Jude returned backstage. He'd given his all. He'd poured every single fiber of his soul into the dance and now he felt drained. The reception from the audience had been strangely quiet and he'd spotted Chris, Meredith and Mrs Fawlorne as he left the stage. They looked happy but why were they crying?
He wasn't sure what to make of it. He'd done his best and there was nothing more he could do. If everyone hated it, he would accept that.
An organiser directed his group to the contestants section at the righthand of the stage. They would sit among the other contestants on sofas and cameras trailing to catch their expressions. Every futa he passed looked upon him with beaming eyes.
They were seated next to Mikkels group and Mikkel edged closer to them.
"Jude, that was..." He began.
Jude looked at the floor. "We did our best, I hope it was enough".
"Are you kidding? That was amazing!"
"Thank you."
Jude smiled. He was thankful for his encouraging words but harboured no delusions about his performance. He wished he wouldn't place last at least.
It was only natural Mikkel would want to cheer him up. Going by the audience's quiet reaction he would be happy if he ended up among the middle. All the troubles he'd caused for so many people. He wouldn't hold it against them if they hated him now.
The contestants was served drinks and snacks and the boys thankfully had their share. It felt good to relax in wait for the scoring to begin. His team seemed anxious though.
Looking at them he felt at ease. It didn't matter if he didn't score well, of course, he wanted to do well so they could be proud, but the most important part was that he'd gone through with it.
He spotted Antoiné looking at him, he wore an anxious expression across his face. When their eyes met, the french boy snorted and averted his gaze.
I might not be as good as you but now you know what a commoner can do, Jude thought.
The announcers addressed the crowd but Jude didn't listen, he just wanted to stay here among his friends and relax. He thought of Meredith, Chris and Mrs Fawlorne, they were never far from his thoughts, he hoped they'd enjoyed his performance. It was all for them. He closed his eyes and his mind wandered back to the magical evening they shared in the cottage. He could feel their hands on him and sense their scent.
Tara interrupted his musings, shouting in her mic.
"And the voting's over. In a short moment our computer system will have finished the count."
In the finals the winner was selected entirely by the people's vote. Similar to the qualifiers, the votes were counted region by region and then given to the contestants with a difference of two points, up to a maximum of twelve. States were not allowed to vote on their own contestants.
A group of dancers took to the stage to entertain the audience while they waited.
Jude munched on a tofu sweet cake while he watched the skillful dancers perform. It looked so beautiful, everything shimmered and the dull, awed sound of the audience rumbled as the seas, wallowing his mind to rest.
The dance ended and the dancers left the stage. Tara and Avery returned and a huge scoreboard appeared on the screen above the stage.
"We have concluded the counting and we're happy to announce that there's a new record of votes. No less than six hundred million of you called in today!"
A loud cheer rang out across the arena. six hundred millions was a staggering amount, it was roughly a hundred million more than who voted in the elections.
"And now we are eager to know who the empire has decided to be the next First Male of the Empire."
"For the first state to cast their votes we would like to welcome Great Britain," Avery declared in his soft, melodic voice.
"Great Britain are you with us?"
A futa appeared on the screen. She wore a high hat, a scarf and a monocle. She looked like a caricature but Jude thought she was handsome.
"Good evening New York," She spoke in a boorish tone.
"Good evening Britain, have you enjoyed the show so far?"
"Yes, thank you. Many good contestants this year, it has been a most pleasant evening." Listening to the tone of her voice, one did not get the impression it had been a pleasant evening.
"I'm happy to hear that. Now for your scores."
The British futa cleared her throat and adjusted the monocle. She held up a note and squinted her eyes while she read. "Two points, for the german boy and his satirical expression of pop music."
Avery repeated the score and it appeared on the scoreboard. Jude glanced at the german boy. He looked confused, and asked one of his teammates what she meant by satirical.
"Four points to Sami'a for his exotic performance. Hrmph, it did get the blood boiling that one."
"six points to Mikkel. While a crude performance there is something to be said of that which moves not the heart but the crotch instead."
Mikkel Jumped up in his seat and shouted at Sami'a.
"Yea, get that! That's how you do it."
Sami'a calmly returned his look, winked and waved at him. Mikkel immediately sat down with a blush blooming on his cheeks.
"Wow, that's great Mikkel," Jude said.
"Eight points to Douglas for his mimicking act. That was certainly a performance of high comedy."
"Ten points for Sven, need I explain why? I don't think so. A hotter performance I dare say I've never seen."
Jude slumped down in his seat. It was as he'd expected, he didn't get any points. Antoiné didn't get any points either. England and France were rivals so they rarely awarded each other any.
"And twelve points to Jude for that unforgettable performance," She lifted a napkin to wipe the corner of her eye. "It was so beautiful."
"Eh?!" Jude exclaimed, "Did they give me twelve points? Why would they do that?"
His team raised their arms and cheered and took turns to hug him.
The polish and baltic representative appeared on the screen. She gave Mikkel eight points, Sami'a ten, Sven six and then, "Twelve points for the beautiful performance by Jude. No doubt it will go down as the greatest performance ever seen."
Then the german representative appeared and the Dutch and the Jarldoms and so on.
"Twelve points for Jude, even the goddess took notice of that performance."
"We'll never forget it, twelve points for Jude."
"We northfutas in general do not appreciate the arts but even we love precious, shiny things. Twelve points for Jude!"
When all the points had been tallied Mikkel placed fourth, Sami'a fifth and Sven second, Antoiné placed seventh, but everyone was focused on the name up top. Jude had earned a perfect score, something which had never happened before."
"We have our winner. Jude Lee from Meredith Lee's school for boys in North America."
The crowd erupted in cheers, roaring his name. His comrades dragged him up from his seat and hugged him tight. Someone pushed through and then Mikkel jumped at him so hard that he fell down in the sofa and was nearly crushed.
"You did it! You did it! I knew you could". He hugged him so hard he could barely breath. The other boys, noticing his distress, pulled Mikkel away from him.
"Guys..." his voice broke, "thank you, I couldn't have done it without you."
They all laughed and pushed him forward to head for the stage. Jude staggered and tried his best to keep a graceful gait. As he walked past the other contestants Someone put a hand on his shoulder, it was Sven.
"Congratulations, you deserve it," he said and hugged him.
"From the moment we met I knew it would be you. I'm honored to have been in the same competition." Jude was caught up in his strong arms and his bulging chest muscles sent vibrations down his spine.
"T-thank you," He stammered and Sven let go of him.
"They're calling your name, don't make them wait."
Jude wanted to stay in his arms a while longer but nodded and kept walking to the stage. The audience cheered, his name echoing through the arena.
He felt dizzy and the cheers were overwhelming. On wobbly legs he made it to the stage. Tara met him and lent him her arm, leading him to the center.
"The First Male of the Empire, ladies and futas, Jude Lee!"
The roars grew louder, reverberating through the air and the floor. Avery hung a Banderole across his shoulders which read First Male of the Empire. A tiara made of platina, adorned with diamonds was brought out on a silken pillow and placed on his crown. Explosions erupted above and a rain of golden and silvery glitter trickled down onto the stage.
Jude still hadn't grasped the situation. He half expected to awaken and find he'd fallen asleep during the scoring and that it had all been a dream.
A tear fell upon his hand and then another, and soon they streamed down his cheeks. He walked up to the edge of the stage and gave the gave the lowest curtsy he'd ever given.
The celebrations on stage lasted for half an hour before Jude could retreat backstage. There were so many people around him and he'd curtsied so many times his knees ached. He longed for rest. Then he spotted three futas arguing with a guard to be let inside.
"Meredith," he called and rushed to them, his fatigue forgotten. The guard seeing him stepped aside and Meredith, Mrs Fawlorne and Chris met him in an embrace. They smooched and enclosed him between their breasts. The lights disappeared and he couldn't breathe. Even when he began suffocate he didn't want them to let go.
"Jude that was amazing," Chris said.
"I'm so proud of you, my boy." Tears streamed from Fawlornes eyes.
"Well done," Meredith added with a quivering voice.
Something within him unknotted itself. Seeing their happy faces sent rays of joy into his heart. It was as if nothing else mattered. They all embraced him once more, their lovely breasts squeezing his head. There, in the dark of their bosoms, something appeared before him. A bright light shining in the distance, growing to enlight the entire world within its embrace.
He stood on a green plain, it was summer and the sun shone. Before him stood a futa with a male with deep, blue eyes in her arms. Her dark hair fluttered in the wind and gleamed in the summer sun. He could see their farm in the background and the cattle who grazed in the meadows. In the distance a flock of white birds flew across the skies. She smiled at him and her lips parted but no words came out. He needed no words to understand her though.
I'm proud of you, son.