Five months later
My bare feet press against the wooden boards of the stage as a cool breeze lifts the strands of my hair and the soft, thin material of my white dress. This is my third costume change for the evening, and the last dance.
Our finale.
The air is thick with anticipation as the audience waits patiently, blanketed within the darkness of the auditorium. The only noticeable light is the red spot of a camera broadcasting our performances live to the entire British public. All night, here in the theatre of the Academy of Stardom, our nearest and dearest have enjoyed performances by the remaining dancers in the troupe. Clancy and York duetted their tap piece. River, Zayn and I danced the trio. And our group dance to Survivor by 2WEI, featured everyone beside Dax who hasn’t quite recovered enough to take part in such a strenuous routine.
But this dance we’re about to perform. This dance wasn’t part of the original line-up. This is something personal, special. Clancy and I have been working on this routine with the dancers of Tales, River and the guys for the past couple of weeks.
Now it’s ready.
In return for allowing us to perform this routine, Madame Tuillard requested that the Breakers and I teach a dance class every week to disenchanted kids from the local community. Of course we agreed. How could we not? Perhaps if we’d had a similar opportunity as kids, things would’ve turned out differently for us all. The five children I teach had never stepped into a dance studio before they started my class. They’re inexperienced, but that matters little to me because no matter your age, your sex, your level of ability, so long as you can move your body, you can dance.
Dance allows imperfection. It embraces difference, challenges perception. It shines a light on all of the beauty, and all of the ugliness inside a person. It’s freeing. Uplifting. Cathartic. Joyous. Dance gives hope to the hopeless. It brings people together. It brought us together, and I don’t just mean the Breakers. I mean Clancy and River, Grim, Beast, Madame Tuillard, the dancers from Tales, and the Freed family. Every single one I count as friends, and alongside Lena, they’re my family now. Those who aren’t dancing on stage are sitting in the audience, supporting us with their presence.
All of those thoughts run through my head as Move Me by Ruthanne begins to play. The piano chords and her haunting voice fills the vast expanse of the theatre, a perfect song for the most beautiful, heartfelt routine I’ve ever had the pleasure of performing.
“Ready?” Xeno whispers to me in the darkness, his fingers whispering over my skin as they trail down my bare arms.
“Yes.”
A spotlight turns on, a circle of white light illuminating Dax’s hunched over figure a few feet away from us. He’s bare chested, his tattoos and injury on display. A pair of thin, white cotton shorts the only item of clothing he wears. He wanted people to see. He wanted people like him, who’ve suffered such terrible, irreversible injuries to know that nothing need stop them from doing what they love.
He’s worked hard to recover over the past few months. He’s dealt with phantom pain and his own emotional reaction to losing a limb, and here he is now, astounding us all.
My heart blooms with love, with pride and joy. With happiness. We all agreed, unanimously, that Dax should take the solo spot.
He’s earned it.
With his hand pressed against the boards, Dax slowly rises out of the tumbling, twirling dry-ice pumping from the smoke machines at the edge of the stage. My throat tightens as he raises his arm in the air and kicks his leg out into a pirouette. A perfect turn despite the fact he dances without complete balance. Because of the loss of his lower arm, he’s had to learn to dance again, to find a slightly different centre of gravity. It was hard, but he overcame, just like we knew he would.
Silent tears pour down my face as we watch him.
Every single step is a miracle.
I could’ve lost him. We could’ve lost him.
But here he is dancing with such poise, with indescribable power and a muted kind of passion that is controlled, composed, but also free. He dances with joy, happiness and love. Dance has always healed us, and it has helped to heal Dax these past few months too. He’s alive. My dark angel is alive, and I will never, ever, take him or any of my Breakers for granted. Life is so precious, so very, very fleeting. I’ve learnt many things recently, but above all else, that realisation has had the most defining impact. Not one of us knows what’s around the corner.
As the music builds, and Dax continues to dance with a beautiful fluidity, another spotlight switches on above me and Xeno this time. Grasping my waist, Xeno lifts me up and I leap into the movement as he helps me glide through the air, the skirt of my dress fluttering over my legs. The audience gasps and I drop back to the floor, turning in his arms. Clasping my hand above my head, Xeno spins me beneath his raised arm as we dance in a circle around Dax. For a moment we’re two separate entities, me and Xeno orbiting Dax in the centre, then our spotlights become one. In that moment, Xeno lets me go so that I can step into Dax’s arm.
He captures me, dipping me low. “Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Hey, Dax,” I reply, before he captures my mouth in a brief whisper of a kiss that is completely unrehearsed, before lifting me back up. Xeno reaches for me again, and supports us both as we dance together as a trio. He becomes Dax’s missing arm, and between them I’m lifted into the air supported with both Xeno and Dax’s hand on my waist.
We dance like that, together. Every step is choreographed so that we are never parted, always touching, caressing each other with our movements. For a portion of the song I dance with two of the four pieces of my soul, always conscious of the missing pieces close by.
As we get to the end of our choreographed trio, the spotlight turns off, dropping us into darkness briefly before a row of lightbulbs are switched on behind us in an arc. Each lightbulb sits upon a stand and is controlled by one of the dancers from Tales. Then from the left of the stage River and Clancy enter together, and from the right, Zayn and York. They dance in their duets, whilst we move aside a little, still dancing but in a muted way so the audience’s focus is on the two couples.
Turning and twisting, tumbling and rolling around each other, they dance with the same passion as we did. The way they move in their duets is mesmerising, effortless, touching and poignant. When they dance it becomes more than movement, it surpasses a routine or a series of steps. It has meaning, it bares the truth of who they are as people.
It is compelling.
As the dancers from Tales flick the light bulbs on and off, casting shadow and light across the stage, Zayn and York dance towards our trio whilst Clancy and River continue to dance to the left of the stage. I’ve watched Zayn and York perform their duet together dozens of times before tonight, but the way they dance now? My God, I don’t have any words for just how stunning they move. Two powerful men, dancing with grace and a gentleness that belies the cold, hard, callous men I know they can be, that I’ve witnessed them to be. They dance as a couple, as best friends, as brothers. Supporting each other, lifting each other up. It’s powerful to witness a love so pure.
Dance truly unveils the truth of who we are beneath the walls we’ve built over the years. Dance peels back the layers, and with every step those layers fall away one by one, like leaves from a tree in autumn. As we dance, the stage becomes littered with all our past mistakes. It’s both a completely personal experience and a shared one.
Right here and now, we shed any last remaining feelings of resentment, of disappointment, of pain, revealing what’s important to us as people, as couples, as lovers and friends. Clancy and River embrace the dance as wholly as the rest of us, unveiling more about their relationship in these few minutes than perhaps they have ever before. They dance with us, and I love them for the friendships they’ve given me and look forward to years of friendship in the future.
Right now, for all of us, this dance is our finale.
It’s the culmination of a year filled with so many ups and downs, with friendship and laughter, love and heartbreak, rage and fear. This dance is our goodbye to that period of time in all of our lives, but also, for me and the Breakers, it’s a goodbye to a past riddled with pain. It’s the start of new beginnings. It’s the first step into a future we’ve all been longing for since we met each other as broken, fucked-up kids, our bond sealed in the basement of number 15 Jackson Street.
Zayn spins away from York and strides over to me, reaching out a hand of friendship, just like he did as a kid. I take his tattooed covered fingers in mine and spin in his arms, the spotlight highlighting us as we move. For the briefest of moments, we just breathe each other in, swaying in each other’s arms as the undeniable connection we share wraps around us both. Then with a gentle smile, Zayn lifts me up above his head, my hands resting on his shoulders as he turns. He grins up at me with his beautiful chipped-tooth smile and I nod imperceptibly, telling him that I’m ready. Zayn bends his legs then throws me up into the air, and just like we’ve practised, York catches me in his arms.
I laugh, I can’t help it.
York grins, my heart soars. Then he lowers me to my feet and kisses me, rough and hard. This isn’t part of the routine, and the audience seem to understand that as they clap, cheering and whistling.
“Only you,” Dax chuckles over the music, reaching for me and pulling me against his chest. Not to be outdone, he kisses me long and hard. The crowd roars in appreciation as he lifts me up one armed and drops me into Xeno’s arms. We too kiss and there’s more cheering, more clapping before I find myself in Zayn’s arms once again, his plump lips dusting over mine.
Right then and there my heart knows that everything we’ve been through, both together and apart, has all led to this one pivotal moment. Like the song suggests, this is beauty, right here on the stage. This is what we were always meant to be, before life and our choices took us on separate paths. None of that matters now as the five of us dance together as a crew, as lovers, as friends. As soulmates.
Together, we perform with love in our hearts, with trust and compassion. We dance fluidly, like the first rays of sun passing through a darkened room. We’re the tiny motes of dust, and the particles of light. We’re the peaceful silence of happiness and joy, and the step in each other’s dance. We’re the warmth in each other’s hearts, and the love in each other’s souls.
And whilst this might be our final performance at the Academy of Stardom, I know that it’s just the beginning of a lifetime filled with love, friendship, laughter, joy and most of all, dance.
