JENNIE
When i didn't move, Lisa snatched up the contract herself and lifted the cover.
"I, Jennie Kim," she read, mimicking my voice, "hereby agree to yadda, yadda, yadda, body and soul." She closed the book with a thud. "I don't think it can get any clearer than that."
"I know what I signed," I said tightly.
Liar, my inner voice hissed. I had no damn clue—only I was just too stubborn to admit that I was in way over my head.
Lisa seemed to be of the same mindset. "Do you?" Her tone posed an inescapable challenge.
Then prove it, Jennie. Say it out loud: I'd like to be a good girl and consult my checkbook, please.
Rather than rise to it, I changed the subject.
"So, I start tonight, then?" I tried to ignore the part of me that cringed at the thought of being at the mercy of someone other than her. "Is ... Isn't that what Somi said?"
Lisa just stared. As I watched, her gaze darkened into an unforgiving shade of gray that made me wish I'd never spoken at all.
"Were you dropped on your head as a child?" she wondered after a moment. "Deprived of love? Did mommy and daddy not give you enough attention to go along with your diamond-encrusted pacifiers? Is that why you throw yourself into danger at every turn? They offer therapy for that,Jennie."
"My parents are dead," I countered, though I had a feeling that she already knew that. Either way, she didn't even have the decency to look guilty.
"I would prefer if you at least shivered," she spat. "Sobbed. I have a spare handkerchief, you know—" She dug through her pocket for a square of white cloth which she tossed at my feet. "At least then I would know that you somewhat comprehend the gravity of the situation."
Gravity? I chewed on my bottom lip. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is: if you think that one night with me was so horrible, try spending it with someone who's paid for your 'services.' Someone," she went on, just to twist the knife, "who won't be as 'accommodating' as I was."
I don't think I realized just how terrifying the prospect was until right then. Within a few days time, I would have to take another client—someone other than her, and despite her cruelty I wasn't inclined to meet anyone she considered to be worse.
"Let's hope you remember your 'lessons,'" she remarked as if reading my mind.
I turned so that I wouldn't have to see her face and found myself at eye-level with the spine of a leather bound copy of Hamlet.
"Okay," I said, forcing out a shaky breath. "Let's say that I am sufficiently alarmed—hypothetically."
"Well, then maybe what I'm saying will finally sink in?" Her boots struck the floor in tandem as she came up behind me. "This isn't some silly game you can just quit whenever the fancy strikes you. I won't have you making a fool of me."
Ice-cold fingers encased my forearm—though surprisingly, the grip didn't seem intended to hurt. She merely lingered, reinforcing every word she said.
"It's not like you haven't benefitted from our arrangement. After all, what's one night of debauchery for four whole days of life?"
"Days that I spent in bed," I pointed out. "Unconscious."
"That's irrelevant," Lisa said, releasing my arm. "I gave you the time. How you spend said time is up to you." Which sounded like a cop-out, if there ever was one. "Besides," she added. "What else would someone like you do during your free time anyway? Crochet? Embroider napkins? Contemplate your impending spinsterhood?"
I hated the fact that she sounded genuinely curious.
"Technically," I groused, "I don't think you're considered a spinster until you pass menopause."
"Hmph." I glanced over my shoulder to find her taking in my appearance with a sniff. "All the better then."
She shoved my contract back within the desk drawer and locked it with a key seemingly pulled from her sleeve. With some sleight of hand, she made it disappear once again. Standing there before her, I tried to process my options. I felt more helpless then than I had felt chained to a bed.
"I thought you didn't 'own' my contract?" I attempted snark, but the words came out more hollow than anything else, tired.
"I don't," she insisted, glancing up to meet my gaze. "I merely keep the new ones until the initial agreement is fulfilled. Then it's sent for …filing."
It sounded so clinical. What, was there a library of countless contracts? At the thought, my throat went dry and I couldn't even ask.
"I wish I had another day with you at least," Lisa admitted, almost to herself. Her tone could have even been called 'sympathetic,' if it wasn't so cold. "Let us hope that whoever buys you will be too desperate to care that you're …" Her eyes raked me from head to toe and narrowed. "Inexperienced," she settled on finally. "Though, I'll send Jisoo over when you wake. Perhaps she can work some kind of miracle—"
"Wake?" I glanced at the window. It was broad daylight outside, but something told me that she didn't mean when I woke tomorrow morning.
She shrugged, mouth flattening into a grim line. "I'm giving you your dose early. Just part of it now, and the rest later. You'll need the strength."
"Oh," I croaked.
I had a sinking feeling at the thought of just what I would need the 'strength' for. Sheets. Heat. Sweat.
Liaa frowned as if reading my mind. "Oh do spare me the dramatics."
She came around the desk and snatched my arm. I flinched as she held it out flat, eyes on the fat blue vein rising from the crook of my elbow.
"Perhaps later, if we have the time, you can entertain me with full-blown hysterics once the extent of your stupidity sinks in," she suggested, sounding a little too eager at the prospect. "But for now, it's time to be a good girl and take your medicine."
On 'medicine' she withdrew something from her pocket: a small cylinder with a metal casing, a syringe. I couldn't see the color of the liquid inside, but I could guess easily enough.
Scarlet.
Without so much as a 'by your leave' Lisa pulled off the needle cap with her teeth and attempted to jab the bevel beneath my skin.
"Wait!" I jerked out of reach, clutching my arm to my chest. "W-what are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, do you know of any other way to get my blood into your system?" She made a sound of a mock surprise. "Oh wait, would you rather drink it instead?"
I cringed, shaking my head. "N-No!"
"Well, then …" She raised an eyebrow and gave the syringe a slight jiggle. "Shall we get this over with? I do have other appointments, you know."
I shuddered at a mental image of her, doling out needles to the other poor souls tethered to her by a contract like candy. "Now shoot up! It's good for you."
"I d-don't want it." I staggered back into the corner, fighting the cliché urge to form a finger-cross and shout, "Stay back!"
"Funny—" She took a menacing step forward while I huddled against the wall. "I don't remember asking."
"This is a church," I squeaked, as if she was the pious sort who might actually be against intimidation within the holy space.
"Technically," she said but, to my utter shock, she stopped and tucked the syringe back within her pocket.
I stared at her, wondering what she could have meant. Without explaining, she brushed past me and entered the main hall. "I don't have a guest room," she called over her shoulder. "So, you'll just have to make do with the couch."
"W-What?"
I tiptoed after her, nearly gasping out loud as the true meaning of her words sunk in. Suddenly it all made sense: the 'visitor's entrance,' and the strange study ...
"You live here?"
She turned to face me with a shrug. "I like the irony of it."
Which I guess was as much as a 'yes' as I was ever going to get.
I glanced around, trying to see everything in a different light. The furniture had the same, dark, muted feel to it as the lounges in the club—black leather. But there was a different aura here; that same sense of preservation as in the rest of the church, with everything neatly in its place.
Contrary, unusual and so very Lisa.
"You live in a cathedral?" I repeated, just to help it sink in. As she said, the 'irony' of it was mind-boggling; the damned vampire, dwelling in a house of worship like a beautiful reverse Quasimodo.
"I don't 'live' anywhere," she said softly, stressing the word; a not so subtle reminder that she was supposedly undead.
I gulped, wringing my hands as she turned to stare from one of the windows. The seconds passed in heavy silence, while she gazed down impassively at the world below. The sound of chirping birds and muted children's laughter created a stark contrast to the grim interior of the suite. Finally, she spoke.
"I don't have time for this," she told me without turning around. "You need my blood to see you through tonight and I have other matters to attend to. Don't tell me the silly, naïve Jennie Kim has lost her bravery already?"
I bristled at the challenge in her tone. So, she thinks me afraid does she? I didn't give myself time to think the action through before I stuck out my arm, baring the vein.
"Do it."
She turned and surprise crossed her face for barely a second. Without a word, she withdrew the syringe again and crossed over to me as slowly as a predator approaching a bleeding doe. One good blow and it would be game over.
My eyes widened as I took in the sharpness of the needlepoint glinting in the sunlight. It looked so very long. Lethal.
"Grin and bear it, Jennie," Lisa advised before sticking the needle in with one clean jab. The pain rose up as sharply as a bee sting but faded in mere seconds. "It will be over before you know it."
I blinked. The next second her words garbled together as darkness filled my vision and then, I was falling ...
--
"Good evening, Jennie."
I peeled my eyes open to find a grinning Jisoo hovering above me.
My head throbbed. The room was spinning, and a glance down revealed that someone had unceremoniously dumped me onto a leather chaise. Surprise surprise, it didn't take me long to guess just who that might have been. Lisa.
If my memory accounted for anything, I was trapped within her evil lair, sleeping off the effects of …
I bolted upright, eyes darting to the inside of my arm. There, just along the crook of my elbow, was a tiny, red mark that stung with the slightest movement—courtesy of her so called cure. Just like when I had woken up that first day, my entire body ached, though Jisoo seemed to be aware of this fact because, once again, she was armed with booze.
"We have got to stop meeting like this," I rasped, while my free hand reached for the glass she shoved in my direction.
"Drink up," she commanded without explaining what was inside it.
I brought the glass to my lips as I scooted to the edge of the couch. After an apprehensive glance, I decided that the liquid looked and smelled like rubbing alcohol. Still, I managed to choke down two gulps as Jisoo came to stand before me.
"We have to hurry," she said. "Lisa threatened to have my head on a pike if I don't get you to her on time." She imitated her frosty tones, hands on her hips.
Tonight her outfit of choice was a black dress that stopped above her knees, paired with emerald heels matching the color of her eyes.
I took another sip and glanced warily around the room as I swallowed. The windows were sheets of ebony, and the only light came from a lit candle, affixed to the wall above my head. The orange glow tossed shadows in random directions, making the room seem large and cavernous. Crypt-like.
"I brought you some clothes—" I turned as Jisoo gestured to an open trunk at her feet. It was large and old-fashioned, like something a pioneer might have stored her things in during the long train ride out West. But rather than calico and straw hats, this bit of luggage brimmed with flimsy bits of white silk and lace—clothes only in the loosest definition of the word.
"You don't have many options," Jisoo admitted. "I tried to bring some variety, however ..." She sank down on one knee and gingerly lifted three garments out, one by one. "You can wear white, off-white or almost white."
"Oh." I set my glass down at my feet and made a show of studying each one.
They were all shifts as light as gossamer, though they differed in the details. One had a delicate row of pearl beads along the collar while the second had straps so thin they looked incapable of even supporting tissue paper. The last one was the plainest of the bunch, with a simple shape and flimsy, see-through sleeves.
"This one won't win you any favors with Lisa," Jisoo warned, most likely referring to the slightly longer hemline than the others.
To be fair, Lisa didn't seem to want me in white at all. But I was too busy focusing on the fact that, within a few hours I would be on display for a room full of hungry vampires to give a damn about my fashion choices. The thought of being slightly more covered from prying, dissecting eyes was too tempting to resist. I could almost hear Lisa hissing 'tsk, tsk! Unacceptable, Jennie,' as I pointed to the sleeved one.
"I'll wear that."
Jisoo flashed a mischievous grin. "I thought you might, but I'm not complaining. Come on—" She urged me upright with a wave of her hand. "Let's get you dressed."
I obediently rose to my feet and allowed her to tug my blouse over my head and undo my skirt. In one simple motion, she lifted the shift above me and brought it down, pulling my arms through the sleeves.
At her prompting, I spun in a circle, allowing her to observe the way the fabric hung over my lanky frame.
Even 'dressed' I didn't feel any more covered than I had in my underwear. The hem barely covered my buttocks, and the bold neckline plunged low between my breasts. I felt utterly ridiculous. Jisoo seemed to reach the same conclusion, because she rummaged through her trunk for a tube of dark red lipstick and swiped it across my lower lip.
"Blend," she ordered and I obediently rubbed my lips together. Still unsatisfied, she dug through her belongings once more for a single strip of white ribbon. "There," she breathed as she looped the length around the back of my neck and tied my curls back. "Perfect."
The next second, she was shoving everything back within that case, and then hefted it beneath one arm. "Come. Lisa's being even more of a brooding ass tonight than usual. She wants to make sure that you understand what is expected of you."
Her sharp gaze found mine from over her shoulder, and she paused expectantly.
Oh, I had a pretty good idea of what she expected. Shrieks. Screams. Dramatics. I would rather die than give her the satisfaction, so I gritted my teeth and jerked my head once.
"I understand."
"Good." For a long minute her gaze seemed to search mine, peering deep, though I had no idea what she could be looking for. Finally, she continued, "I don't know what she's told you …but it's more than just sex. You are a commodity, of course—" Though at the moment, I felt about as valuable as a bottle of milk on a shelf in a supermarket. "And yet, you still have the opportunity to wield some element of power."
Power? I waited for her to elaborate. How on earth could someone like me ever hope to have the upper hand over anyone—vampire or otherwise? Let alone in a stupid, gauzy dress?
Without explaining, Jisoo turned and led the way down a corridor. I followed her and was surprised to find that Lisa's so called "lair" was much larger than I had originally thought. The layout almost reminded me of a penthouse suite, and I could only guess what might lurk beyond the closed doors.
Torture chambers? Jail cells? A closet filled with a million priceless suits?
I didn't dare risk sneaking a peek behind one, as I traipsed past on bare feet.
"You wouldn't happen to have shoes in there would you?" I pitched hopefully with a nod at that trunk. I had left my heels on the floor of the main room and creeping back to get them wasn't appealing in the slightest.
Jisoo shook her head. "You won't need them."
The words held an ominous edge; you won't need shoes again. Ever.
I didn't have long to contemplate her meaning, before the hallway ended near–of all things–an elevator. Apparently, Lisa saved the ordeal of the stairs only for her 'guests', the bastard.
No wonder she hadn't had the decency to even seem out of breath, I groused as I followed Jisoo inside.
The interior was made of dark wood with a single silver keypad featuring only three levels. Jisoo confidently pressed the bottom one, and the doors slid shut, before the cabin plummeted.
I bit my lip, desperate not to ruin my new shift already. As Lisa had suggested, I should save my dramatics—and the bastard was certainly due for a bit of nervous vomit on her shoe. Luckily, my stomach only managed to flip once before the descent slowed and the doors slid apart.
"It's dark," Jisoo warned as she led the way. I only had the sound of her footsteps to guide me through the shadows, as a rank, damp smell tickled my nose. Were we in some kind of lower level, beneath the cathedral?
"I've asked Lisa to consider putting lights down here but, you know her." Jisoo'z laugh fluttered in the still air. "Anyway, here we are—"
There was a click, like that of a car door being opened, and then a wealth of light flooded the room. I blinked while my eyes adjusted and tried to make out as much as I could through the dark.
We stood in the middle of what seemed to be an underground garage, beside a red sports car that I assumed was Jisoo's. The shrouded shapes of what seemed to be other vehicles were spread neatly in rows with the same care and precision that seemed to maintain the rest of the property.
"Hop in," Jisoo urged, holding open the cherry-red passenger door. I slid onto the leather seat while she tossed her case in the trunk and circled to the driver's side. "I'm surprised she brought you here, you know," she admitted while starting the engine. "Even I haven't been invited in years …"
So Lisa did live here, then.
"How can she even live here?"
I pictured her lurking in the bell tower, unbeknownst to the pious parishioners down below. Wasn't there a commandment or something? Thou shall not live in a house of worship whilst thou is a demon?
From the corner of my eye I saw Jisoo shrug. "You should ask her."
Her tone was polite but I got the hint. While she seemed to love thwarting her, Lisa was strictly off limits. I shifted on my seat and preoccupied myself with gazing from the window.
Eventually the long tunnel had opened up onto a gravel road. We were out in the country now, it seemed, surrounded by fields and wilderness. The entire drive must have taken only a few minutes, but a glance behind me revealed that the church had disappeared—along with the rest of the city entirely.
The tunnel itself had to stretch for miles, and I had a suspicion that the founding priests hadn't included it in their original floor plans.
"Is she Batman?" I blurted, which was the only comparison that came to mind according to my limited knowledge of popular culture. Did Lisa fancy herself as a vampire Bruce Wayne, with oodles of money to transform her domain as she pleased?
Jisoo didn't reply. Nearly ten minutes more must have passed in silence before we finally turned onto a main road, heading toward some unknown destination. I had a feeling that none of the exits she took led back to the city, either.
As if reading my mind, she finally spoke. "Tonight's auction is not at the club."
Uh-oh. I sat straighter, instantly on guard. "What do you mean?"
"The venue has changed." Her tone was cautious. Hesitant. "Mikhail has decided that the newest crop of girls should be …put to the test, so to speak. Even I don't know what the hell he and Somi have in store for tonight."
I definitely didn't like the sound of that. "T-test?" My voice raised an octave while my imagination conjured all sorts of unhealthy possibilities; me, chains, spectators…
"It's not what you think," Jisoo assured me. "It's just something Somi came up with to increase the appeal. Think of it as a marketing stunt. Lisa's not happy," she added, as if that lessened the blow. "But there isn't much that can be done about it now … You can't fault the venue, though."
As if her words were the cue, a monstrous shape appeared on the horizon and I felt my apprehension only multiply.
While Lisa may have disappointed in all my comparisons to Dracula, this new 'venue' certainly didn't. The sight reminded me of some reclusive count's estate, massive enough to put even Kim Manor to shame. Even in the dark it looked like an ideal haunt for any monster, and suddenly I felt uncomfortably similar to the heroine in that certain Bram Stoker novel.
"W-What is that?"
I waited for some grandiose title. Castle—insert gothic-sounding name here.
Jisoo didn't humor me this time. "Just stay close to me once we're inside," was all she said.
Uneasy, I fidgeted on my seat, eyes glued to our mysterious destination. The path to the manor alone seemed to stretch at least a mile, lined by a row of naked trees whose branches tossed shadows that slithered over the landscape as if alive. When we finally approached an iron gate that barred the way to the front of the house, it opened, seemingly on its own.
I couldn't make out much of the manor house itself, but the stone seemed even darker than the night sky. The whole structure towered overhead, and I felt as insignificant as an ant in its shadow. Windows illuminated with orange light cast an eerie glow over the front terrace.
Jisoo parked in the center of a stone courtyard and, in an instant, a pale figure appeared near her window with a hand outstretched.
"Don't scratch it," she warned the man—who was wearing a crisp suit topped by a blood-red tie—as she gracefully exited the car and dropped the keys into his palm.
Without a word, the man climbed into the driver's seat, took the wheel and drove off the second I scrambled out onto the pavement.
I couldn't see anyone else around, but something warned me that the house was full regardless. The whole property reeked of that same eerie vibe one might feel near the outskirts of the tiger's den at the zoo.
Predators be near …
"Let's get this over with." Jisoo turned to the manor and craned her neck back to take it in entirely.
Impassively, her green eyes swept over the grand entryway where twin, marble staircases led to the grand, main doors. The longer she stared, the darker her expression became, before eventually she surged forward with a sigh of defeat.
I scrambled after her, shivering as the cold ground met my bare feet. I felt horribly exposed as I hastened up those steps, naked. It certainly didn't help that the two ushers—both wearing suits identical to the mysterious driver's—glanced me over once and then shared a look. I could almost guess what they didn't say out loud; another one.
However, they acknowledged Jisoo with a monotone greeting spoken in unison, before pulling open the doors. "Evening."
She said nothing in return.
In fact, she seemed unusually distant, as she guided me into a breathtaking entryway, bathed in shadow.
An ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling. Dark paneled walls framed a large room where a winding staircase dominated the center—and none other than Somi happened to be descending the bottom stair.
"Jisoo," she greeted flatly. "What a …surprise." Her tone was even colder than her expression, but despite the ice lurking in her gaze, she still looked regal. Her unbound hair blended with the vibrant scarlet of her dress and set off the ivory in her skin. "I would have thought that Lisa would deliver her own toys tonight."
"Not everyone can be like you, dear Somi," Jisoo replied. "Always free to do Mikhail's bidding."
Somi's eyes narrowed, even as she flashed a poor imitation of a smile. "I hope you've explained what is to be expected of her—" She jerked her head in my direction. "We wouldn't want Lisa to be embarrassed in front of all the investors, now would we?"
Her sly tone revealed her true feelings on that matter.
"Expected?" A slight tremble in her voice was the only clue that Jisoo might have been caught off guard. Of course, like any good predator, Somi immediately picked up on it.
"Why yes," she purred, while approaching us on blood-red heels. "It's a showcase tonight, darling. I would have hoped Lisa had told her."
"Showcase?" Jisoo's voice was harder than I'd ever heard it. "Is this a circus now, Somi?"
The other woman shrugged off the apparent insult. Her smile reminded me of the way a tiger might observe fresh prey prance into its den, eager to deliver the killing blow. "I like to try new things," she said. "It keeps the mood interesting—we don't want our buyers getting bored with the same old routine, now do we? After all, if Raphael thought that we did not take our duties seriously …"
"He's here?" Jisoo's voice caught and her hand flew to her throat as if to trap more words inside it.
But it was too late.
"Well of course he's here," Somi replied. "And you know just how picky he can be when it comes to these things—" She sent another pointed glance in my direction. "I wouldn't want dear old Lisa to present anything 'lacking' before her. Who knows what the consequences might be?"
With that, she breezed past us and disappeared down a darkened hallway. I gaped after her like an imbecile before I finally got the sense to turn to Jisoo.
"What did she mean by showcase?"
The word had a horrible connotation from my boarding school days. Those wretched events where us girls were festooned with ribbons, thrust on stage, and expected to demonstrate 'all that we learned' to our bored—and in my case intoxicated on the offered brandy—guardians. Call it a hunch, but I assumed that this version wouldn't be anywhere near as innocent.
"We need to find Lisa." Jisoo took off through a nearby doorway and I followed behind, fighting to keep from blurting more questions.
Mikhail had wanted the auction to be here, but why? And why this showcase? And why had Somi seemed so smug?
My mind spun as I fought to keep pace with Jisoo through the winding corridors. I was panting by the time we finally entered a room where a person stood before the only window, watching the moonlight seep in between the black curtains.
"It's about damn time," she grumbled without turning around—though, that voice needed no introduction.
"Somi, the bitch," Jisoo hissed, ignoring the hostility in her tone, "did you hear what she's planning?"
"Of course I have." With a shrug of her shoulders, Lisa turned. Tonight she too wore an impeccable suit, secured with a dark blue tie rather than a red one. Against the dark walls, the paleness of het skin stood out in stark contrast. "I've known for two days now. She is in control of the public relations, after all—" She put a mocking twist on the words. "There isn't a damn thing I can do about it."
"But—" Jisoo glanced at me and then back at her. "You're just going to let Jennie go out there with nothing?"
Her gaze slithered in my direction and narrowed. "Surely, Jennie, if you have some hidden talents capable of enticing potential buyers, then please speak up." She waited, tapping her foot impatiently.
I couldn't even come up with a snarky remark. My throat went dry and every single breath rasped out, harsh and broken. Suddenly, it made sense why she'd been so angry at me before; you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. Apparently this "showcase" had been in the works for days, devised by Somi in an attempt to catch her off guard. Humiliate.
I guess that, in her own way, the bastard had tried to warn me—but it was too late now.
"Well that's settled." Lisa crossed her arms when I didn't speak, expression glacial. "There's no help for it."
"He's going to be there," Jisoo said, stressing the word. "Raphael. Are you just going to let Somi win this round and make a fool out of you?"
"It's not like I have a much of a choice," Lisa replied, but her voice was softer, resigned. "Those are the terms of her contract."
"Ugh!" With a growl of exasperation, Jisoo whirled on me. "There must be something you can do?" she demanded. "Sing. Dance. Anything?"
I shook my head. The only talents I seemed to possess were warbling show tunes off-key and butchering the violin.
"Think!" Jisoo urged. "There must be something?"
"I … I was a background dancer in the ballet recital during my senior year?" I pitched weakly. "I'm not even sure if I remember—"
"Well there you have it," Lisa interjected. "I'm sure some grade school ballet will have all the buyers drooling. Let's just pretend that she's ill so we have an excuse not to put her in this sham."
"We can't." Jisoo raked her hands through her hair. "Not with Raphael in attendance. He'll take it as a sign of weakness. Or worse, a taunt—which is exactly what that bitch wants—"
"Then what do you suggest we do?"
From the exhaustion in Lisa's tone, I sensed that this feud with Somi was long-running. Years, my inner voice suggested.
Jisoo bit her bottom lip. "I don't know. But I refuse to let her win. And," she added in undertone so softly that I got the sense that I wasn't meant to hear it, "what do you think will happen to Jennie if she does?"
They both looked at me then, expressions guarded.
"We don't have the time for this." Abruptly, Lisa brushed past me and headed for the door. "Get her ready as best as you can, but don't expect …" She trailed off and sent me one last searching look, eyes settling over my face. Then, without another word she left.
"Damn it!" I flinched as Jisoo formed a fist with one hand and smashed it into the palm of the other. Her eyes blazed as they honed in on mine through a fringe of black hair. "You said you danced?"
I shook my head, not sure where she was going with this. "J-Just ballet in school."
Horrible ballet, I might add. I had always been the clumsy sort who lacked the grace that everyone seemed to think should have come with the territory of being 'upper class'. But, like every girl at Welstrom Academy, I had been enrolled into that particular form of torture four days a week for five years.
"You have a dancer's body."
I followed Jisoo's gaze, convinced that she couldn't possibly be observing the same lanky, stick-thin limbs that I was.
"I …I'm not—"
"Let me see." She stood back and snapped her fingers. "Show me."
"B-but." I fidgeted, twisting my toes together. "I was just a cygnet and that was years ago."
In our senior class production of Swan Lake, I hadn't even been cast as a "big" swan but a duckling—the only role suited to my skills. My part had more or less consisted of flitting around, flapping my wings while trying not to trip over my own feet.
Still, Jisoo was insistent. "Try."
I sighed and weakly raised my hands over my head, attempting to recall that all important first position. Pretty hands! Mistress Romata, my old instructor, used to shout in furious Russian, and I could sense the poor woman rolling in her grave as I did a clumsy imitation of the first few steps.
I waited for Jisoo to cringe in disgust and admit defeat, but the tilt to her mouth reminded me of an artist wondering if anything worthwhile could be created from a shapeless lump of clay.
"Again," she ordered, only this time she came forward to guide my movements.
Expertly, she slowed down the motion, hands on my shoulders, as if her grace might seep into my skin. She corrected mistakes, added a few suggestions here and there. Then she made me run the dance, over and over and over again.
"This is a game, Jennie," she told me when I finally came to a stop, panting and dripping sweat. "A game of the body and the mind. You must take control. Tease. Taunt—but never once let him forget that this game is yours, and yours alone."
I guessed that she was referring to my potential buyer, though—if my preparation for this showcase was any indication—I doubted I'd find anyone who would buy me at all.
"Now, again," Jisoo demanded, before I could dwell on the fear, and I had no choice but to lurch into another pathetic spin and try not to fall.