Following Tea's decision to audition for an array of ballet companies, the next couple of weeks became increasingly busy for the two. On top of doing a show at the Domino City Theatre with their oh-so-charming manager to handle, they each had their own respective studios to consider as well as make time for rehearsal.
Yet when confronted about cutting something out, Yami wouldn't consider it.
Early on in the preparation stages for her audition, Tea struggled to figure out what pieces to use for her audition. Even when she narrowed down her list, she went back and forth trying to decide which recording to use. It amused Yami to see that Tea could be just as picky as he was – there was something about their shared struggle in finding a recording that matched one's musical expression.
Yami then suggested that he play the piano accompaniment for her audition. Tea insisted that she couldn't put such demands on him, that his workload was already too much. Yami just shrugged it off, trying to hide how excited he was at such an opportunity. Sure, it would be more work, but he would be working by her side, sharing artistic ideas and discussing how to aurally and visually represent the piece.
Honestly, Yami couldn't see the downside to such an arrangement.
So after nearly half a day of grappling with the rickety upright sitting in her dance studio, wrestling with the ancient creature, Yami was able to retune the old ivory monstrosity. Due to its age and condition, Yami had spent every few days tuning the piano. The poor creature really should be put out of its misery, but neither of them was in a position to move a piano into her studio nor did they have access to the theatre after hours.
If only Pegasus hadn't changed the damn rules about using the theatre when rehearsals aren't going on. Ideally, it would have been preferable to have Tea record her audition pieces on the stage, with the well-kept, well-tuned baby grand. But Pegasus had become a stickler in who he let use the theatre. He insisted it was to keep inexperienced and irresponsible cast members from using the space, but Yami didn't know anyone else aside from him and a few other professionals who wanted to use the hall for its intended purpose.
So instead, the two worked from Tea's dance studio, working late nights during the week. Their weekends were consumed by rehearsals and performances, and their days with students. To say they were both tired was an understatement.
It was during one of these dates/rehearsals that Tea asked to record. Since Yami was often trying to make his way through an orchestral reduction and cover all the musical points they had discussed, he didn't have much time to watch Tea's dancing. And although he was no dancer, he was an artist. And given their somewhat limited resources, an artist would have to do in terms of critique.
Yami held Tea's phone, watching the video that they had recorded. Tristan had a nice video camera that he promised they could use when they were ready to send in her auditions, but for now, an iPhone would have to do. Yami studied her routine, blinking as he recognized something. "You did this routine before."
Tea sat on the floor, taking a drink of her water. She glanced back as she stretched from her spot. "What's that?"
"Your routine. I recognize part of it. Did you do this in competition before?"
Tea furrowed her brows, stretching forward as she tried to recall. "Not that I recall. I've never done a production of Coppélia, so I can't say that I've done it then either."
Yami leaned back on his bench, scowling slightly. That was odd. He could have sworn he had seen part of this routine before. "You sure you never did this before?"
"No…?" Tea's face lit up in recognition as if suddenly realizing. "You know, I was in a production of Sylvia though. That's the same composer, right?"
Yami nodded, the pieces falling into place. "Yeah, that's it then. You used one of the sets in competition, right?"
"Yeah. I was Sylvia in the production, so I had quite a bit to work with."
Yami smiled, reflecting on those old memories. Strange how so much and so little has changed. He glanced back over at Tea. "Stealing from old routines for your audition? What would your college choreographer say?"
"Meh. She'd be fine with it."
Yami chuckled. "That's rather presumptuous, don't you think?"
"Not really. I choreographed my solo stuff back in college, so I don't mind stealing ideas from old me."
Yami blinked, somewhat surprised by this. "You choreographed your routines?"
Tea glanced back, not seeing what the big deal was. "Yeah. I was a dance student. Why wouldn't I want to learn how to choreograph?"
"But you were a student…"
"Right, because you being a student meant you weren't allowed to compose."
Yami sighed, glancing away. "Valid point. It's just… I'm a little surprised is all."
Tea took another sip of her water, adjusting her hair tie so that her vision remained unobstructed. "In undergrad, I wouldn't have thought to choreograph anything. But once I started my masters, my professors insisted that I take charge and learn how to do it myself. Wouldn't you know – I had a pretty good knack for it. Most dancers have to if they want to get anywhere. How else do you make the dance your own?"
Yami considered this, contemplating Tea's situation. As a musician, his job wasn't to improve upon written music, but in flawless execution and artistic interpretation. Unless it was a new composition he had written himself, the music was, for the most part, predetermined. There would exceptions such as cadenzas and solos and jazz work, but there was a more rigid structure he was constrained to.
While Yami enjoyed this framework to work within, there was something appealing about having the autonomy and knowledge to create something entirely new. Even though Tea had old routines, choreographed works, and decades of dances to inspire her work, she could make a routine that was uniquely hers. Dance in it of itself was improvisatory in nature – practically a requirement for the field. The same couldn't always be said about music.
Such flexibility and control of one's program was both exciting and nerve-wracking to comprehend.
It was this train of thought that a realization dawned on Yami. "Tea, do you choreograph the shows at the theatre as well?"
Tea snorted, almost amused by the question. She smirked as she looked back up at Yami. "Well, Pegasus sure as hell can't choreograph an entire cast so who else is he going to turn to?"
Yami narrowed his eyes, debating whether to ask his next question. Despite the sensitive topic, he figured he should at least find out the depths of their manager's poor priorities. "Please tell me you're being paid for choreographing every show."
Tea sighed, the heaviness of it giving Yami the answer he needed. Tea turned from her spot where she sat, standing as she took back her phone. She sat down next to Yami, flipping through his music in search of something. "You know Pegasus operates. When he got me to choreograph the first show, I just figured it would be a one-off thing that could help me move up the ladder."
Tea snorted as she read through the music slowly as if searching for something. "What fools we were," she muttered, a grimace on her face.
Yami let out an annoyed huff, not disagreeing with her. When they started out, they were just thankful to have a job in their field. They had been willing to do anything to prove their value and worth. Yami knew as well as Tea that they were the big fish in a small pond. They were underpaid for their work and the sense of accomplishment after each performance grew more bitter and less satisfying.
We need to get the hell out of Domino.
Yami was interrupted from his thoughts as he felt Tea nudge him with his shoulder. "Hey, Horowitz? Wanna get back to rehearsing?"
Yami let a small smile grow on his face, though he kept his own thoughts to himself. Brooding over their lot wouldn't get them anywhere – they had a future to figure out. "Sure thing, Ulanova. Shall we take it from the top?"
Despite their busy schedules to figure out their lives, Yami and Tea knew to take a break from their rehearsals. Even though they were making plans to leave Domino, Yami decided to take up Tea's suggestion and asked to join her Monster World campaign. Her party was more than happy to add on another player, although it took Yami some time to update the software so that it was playable on his computer.
Even though Yami could play from the comfort of his home if he wanted to, he always found MMO's easier in person when possible. Thankfully, his new party felt the same, usually planning to meet and hang out when possible. That's where he also learned that Joey and Tristan were avid gamers.
When they met up at Joey's place to game, Yami learned Ryou was their DM. And despite Ryou's attempt to create a compelling, intriguing story for them to embark on, Joey and Tristan had other plans. Instead, they were insistent on trying to make money in the town's arena and score chicks. Tea and Duke were constantly trying to bring the group to task, but it was already a lost cause.
What's more, Tea failed to mention that her bard only sang George Michael songs for her cantrips and spells.
And Duke's character had this habit of trying to seduce every NPC, male or female. This backfired once already when he accidentally offended a goddess and had to be resurrected by the team.
And Ryou's character decided to skin a goblin and keep its pelt as a potential guise "just because."
What the hell sort of campaign am I in right now?
Compared to the other parties Yami had been part of back in college, they all seemed very tame compared to his present team. If he hadn't been in the same room as them, he would have assumed they were all drunk and just playing while shitfaced. To his surprise (horror), they were completely sober when they made all of these absurd decisions.
This entire campaign was nothing more than a giant troll challenge.
And yet, Yami didn't want to quit.
There was something about the complete absurdity of this party that compelled him to stick around. Sure, the campaign written was fun, but the dynamic of the team was unlike anything he had experienced. Monster World was a fun game, but even more fun if you played with the right people. And apparently, he had been playing with the wrong people all of these years.
Yami wasn't a large personality himself, not normally when he played. Ryou required him to choose a token at random to help develop a quirk as he couldn't think of a one nor a backstory for himself. He hadn't liked the smile on the albino's face when he picked out a golden pendant. Something about the kind smile seemed almost conniving in nature.
One weekend when Tristan and Joey were both out of town visiting family, Tea offered her apartment to host for the rest of the team. Naturally, Yami came over earlier to help set up for the get-together and to also get some equipment in the game. He got the sense that their DM wouldn't let their shenanigans go on for much longer without a nasty boss battle ahead.
Yami was sitting on the couch, looking over his character sheets when Tea laid down next to him, resting her head on his lap. He rolled his eyes as he shifted his laptop next to him. Tea didn't say anything, listening to something on her phone. The two stayed there for awhile, not speaking as the tried to figure out their tasks.
Eventually, Yami gave up, accepting that he was prepared as he could be in game. He could only hope that Ryou wasn't that much of a jackass, but he didn't hold his breath. He turned his attention back to Tea, his fingers wandering into her hair. A smile flicked across her face before fading. Based on her focused gaze, he suspected that she was thinking about her audition.
"Whatcha watching?" Yami asked, speaking softly so as to not disturb the quiet in her apartment.
Tea didn't respond immediately, her brows furrowed. "Yesterday's rehearsal."
Yami nodded, recalling their time at the studio yesterday. "That one went pretty well. The Prayer variation is coming along really nicely. We should be able to record that one soon."
"Yeah…" Yami raised an eyebrow, glancing down. Based on the scowl on Tea's face, Yami knew that she disagreed.
"… What's wrong?"
Tea pursed her lips as if trying to figure it out as well. "It's… Well, it's still incomplete. The framework is all there, but the heart of it is missing. I feel like I can't find it. I don't know what I'm missing or what I need to do, but right now, my performance is bare bones."
Tea dropped the phone next to her, closing her eyes. She sighed as she tried to force herself to relax. "I know I was hesitant going into this, but I really want to do well. I really want to dance in a real, professional company. I want it so bad. But as I am now, it's not enough. My performance won't stand out."
Yami studied Tea, considering her words. He understood this issue from a musical perspective. This was often a question he had to face when taking on a new piece of music himself. As to what might help inspire Tea to make the last connections and complete her routine, he wasn't entirely sure.
"Well, if you're struggling to find the heart of your piece, what would you have done as a student to find?" Tea tried to smile, but it ended up looking more like a scowl. Yami could see her brows etched in confusion. She forced herself to sit up.
"That's the thing. I don't remember. I don't remember what I did to make each dance my own and truly master it." Tea sighed as she glanced away, her features faltering as she revealed her fear. "I'm scared that I never had what it took to begin with."
"Bull crap."
Yami blurted out the words without thinking. Tea snapped her head up, looking as surprised as Yami felt. Despite his impulsive reaction, he kept his expression calm and encouraging. Sure, he hadn't exactly meant to state his thoughts in that manner, but it didn't change how he felt about it.
"I- I'm sorry, what?" Tea asked, looking somewhat bewildered.
Yami glanced down at the paused video on Tea's phone. "The idea that you aren't good enough competitively is a load of rubbish. I've said it before – the fact that you've never auditioned for a famous ballet company has always baffled me because your skill and talent far surpasses that of any normal dancer."
Tea looked somewhat frustrated by his remark, her own exasperation starting to slip through. "You keep saying that and yet I still doubt it! Look- you're a great musician and I believe you could make it professionally if you wanted to. But I also know I'm not a pianist and I can't assess how accurate that statement is! So how can you expect me to just have blind confidence in myself when I know where I'm lacking in my own craft?"
The two didn't speak, Tea still glaring at her pianist. He could see that her body was tense, almost as if realizing how accusatory she sounded, but she remained still, almost defiant in her stance. Yami studied Tea, seeing the struggle play out across her face. It wasn't that Tea lacked confidence – she was all too aware of her own abilities. But it was that acute knowledge, that she was cognizant of her own shortcomings that made her reserved.
And in all fairness, Tea had a good point. Yami, while deeply knowledgeable in music and all aspects relating to his instrument, had only a passing knowledge of dance. Aside from his experience working in a theatre and dance, he would not be the type of person Tea would be trying to impress. It would be other dancers and choreographers and directors in her field of study who would dissect and pick apart her routine, sharply aware of the faults and flaws in her performance.
So what could Yami say now?
Perhaps Yami was inexperienced and didn't know all the ins and outs of being a dancer. But dancing was an art form. As an artist, Yami could give her the confidence that she, too, knew how to make beautiful art. Yami sighed, glancing away at the table next to the couch. "Do you remember when we first met?"
Tea thought for a moment, curious about what direction their conversation was taking. "Somewhat. We ran into each other in a competition way back, right?"
"The Richard A. Webber Fine Arts competition, four years ago."
"… Where are you going with this?"
Yami bit the inside of mouth, just below the lip so that the tension wouldn't show. "After I performed the first day, I went to check out some other performances including yours. Back then, I didn't particularly care to check out anything other than music performances, but the fact that you were younger than most people competing intrigued me."
Tea blinked, starting to remember that competition. "I think I recall that one. That was my first year in my master's program. I hadn't taken it too seriously because I didn't think I would place."
Yami chuckled, a small smile growing on his face as he reflected on the old memory. "I knew the moment you stepped on stage, you were different. The fact that you used the Sacrificial Dance by Stravinsky was compelling enough."
Tea let out a nervous chuckle, as if now fully remembering. "Oh my god, I completely forgot about that routine. That was one of the first I ever choreographed."
Yami nodded, the pieces falling into place. "That makes sense. Funnily enough, I am very well versed in the Rite of Spring as I accompanied the theater program when I was a master's student. So I was astounded when you blended Nijinsky's original choreography with your own, echoing the history of the dance while bringing something fresh and new to it."
Yami could feel Tea's eyes on him. He didn't trust himself to look at her yet, so he kept speaking. "You understood the weight and history of this ballet. The paid homage to choreographers past, but that didn't stop you from adding new elements. You passed on the story of a young woman to be sacrificed, her fear almost palpable on stage."
"Yet in the end, she embraced her fate, dancing until death took her."
Yami took a deep breath, finally looking back up to meet Tea's startled gaze. "I had accompanied many performances of Rite of Spring in the few years leading up to that competition. But you were the first time I didn't see a dancer performing the part. You were the young woman who resigned herself to a fate by the gods. For the first time, I saw the horror and beautiful of sacrificing your entire being through dance."
Tea didn't say anything, her face torn between confusion, shock, embarrassment, and something else that Yami couldn't read. Her lack of response urged Yami to keep speaking, his mouth suddenly dry. "I'm not a dancer, but I know when you dance, you're not performing a work of art. You become a work of art. And when I saw you that first time, that's when I knew-"
Yami stopped himself, realizing he was rambling. He snapped his head away, unable to meet Tea's blue eyes. If he glanced back, he knew he would be lost in them, adrift in an endless sea. Instead, he kept his gaze down, biting back any further remarks. It would probably seem creepy if he let out on that he had a crush on Tea for the last four years. This was supposed to be an encouraging talk, not a confession from The Police.
Yami felt a soft hand gently turning his face. He glanced back over, Tea taking hold of his face between her two hands. His breath stopped as she leaned forward, kissing him firmly. He wasn't entirely sure how he got to this point, but Yami wasn't going to complain about his good fortune by any means. He remembered to respond, kissing Tea back and not remaining stiff like a frozen sculpture.
Tea pulled away, a serious look on her face. Yami blinked, feeling nervous under her scrutinizing gaze. After a moment, a grin grew on her face, confident and almost devious. She chuckled, amused by Yami's stunned reaction. "Thank you."
Yami swallowed, licking his lips as he pulled himself together. "Y-Yeah? No problem..?"
Yami hated how he sounded so unsure, wishing he could melt from his spot and slink away. Tea chuckled, leaning forward to give him a brief kiss. "Aren't you so articulate?"
Yami rolled his eyes, disguising his shaky breath as an annoyed sigh. "Oh hush, you. This is my punishment for a little bit of honesty?"
Yami blinked as he felt himself be pushed down on the couch, his surprise quickly being replaced by intrigue as Tea hovered over him. "Well, you're little story gave me an idea that might just help me figure out my earlier problem. So thank you. But I haven't a clue how I might repay you for your help. Do you have any ideas?"
Yami chuckled, smirking back up at the rather devious dancer above him. He felt her hand trace along his chest, slowly following the slight contour of muscle underneath. He raised a hand to trace Tea's cheekbone, enjoying the amorous glow that enveloped her face. "I might have one or two that could be mutually satisfactory."
Tea grinned, leaning in closer, their bodies brushing each other. Her lips grazed against Yami's, causing a pleasant shiver to course down his spine. He leaned forward, desperate to bridge the gap between them.
Any further plans were put on halt as a soft knock interrupted their intimate moment. Yami thought he had only imagined the noise when he heard a familiar soft voice. "Tea! Ready to game? I made cookies!"
Tea shook her head, dropped it down so that her hair created a tent for the two disappointed artists. Yami chuckled, his hand dropping down on the couch. "Well, it looks like we'll have to continue this later."
Tea sat back, snorting as she glared at the door as if it were the reason for their interrupted plans. "Yeah. Damnit Ryou. I know he brought cookies and I shouldn't be mean, but would it kill him to be late to one of these things?"
Yami shrugged, sitting up as he adjusted his ruffled shirt. "The fates are cruel. We'll just have to get our sexual frustration out later."
"Damn right, we will."
Yami laughed, watching as Tea huffed and opened the door. Regardless of their current desires, all of that would have to be put on hold for Monster World.
