Chapter 3

Ashes to Ashes

A decade of dedication and four weeks of painstaking training has culminated to this night. Dimitri peaks out from behind the stage curtain; the seats aren’t full despite the show being sold out, but the people who matter most are there. Scanning the crowd, Dimitri finally picks out her family, given away by her large father, seated with other families that she recognizes from her troupe. Half the crowd is wearing masks, her family included, and the other half mingles with strangers nonchalantly, not a worry in the world. In that other half, Dimitri is able to spot Lev’s parents. His tall father, with a matching buzz cut, wears a tailored suit and stands with Lev’s mother, who’s wearing a deep red dress far too elegant for someone in the crowd and not on stage. They’ve never chosen not to show their money whenever they have the chance.
“They’re talking to the recruiters, by the way.” Lev is suddenly next to Dimitri. “Probably trying to sway opinions before the performance even starts. I wish they’d put that much effort into making me like them instead of buying my love.” He snorts out a halfhearted laugh.
“Ehhh, you know they’re also just trying to buy your success there, too. You doing okay, Lev?”
“Yeah, of course. Just nervous I guess. I haven’t seen them in several months now, you know? And now the first time I do, it’s with the pressure of a submarine that’s dived too deep. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to buy their love just as much as they do mine.”
Dimitri places a hand on his shoulder, nearly eye level for herself, “I know what you mean. You know they care, though, they wouldn’t have even bothered to come if they didn’t.”
He sighs. “What about you? Feel ready?”
She plasters a grin on her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The lights begin to dim in the hall, urging people to find their seats for the show. Dimitri and Lev slink back to the rest of the dancers. Everyone is huddling up with the coaches for their final words of inspiration. Dimitri, Pari, and two others step away early as Coach Pietr leads the rest of the dancers in a prayer to the Christian God. Dimitri can hear him asking their God for strength and good fortune as the three dozen dancers, including Lev, bow their heads in a semicircle around him and Coach Yelchin. Dimitri has only ever seen Lev act religious when his parents are around.
Dimitri has never considered herself one of faith, but she finds herself subconsciously reflecting on the gods that her mother has taught her to respect from a young age. She mutters an old Russian prayer to Dzbog, in hopes that, if he is listening, he grants her the fortune that the others ask of their own God and that her own character in the play is meant to bring to others.
The lights in the hall have dimmed completely and Dimitri can hear the soft music of the orchestra beginning the show. She takes a deep breath and enters the stage alone, her fire-y red dress fluttering around her knees as she takes position and the curtains open slowly, revealing the audience in its entirety. A single spotlight settles on her and the strings enter the song, her cue to raise her arms and open up like a phoenix from the ashes.
Fog fills the stage, wrapping around plastic boulders and shrubbery that make up the stage props in the background. The red of Dimitri’s dress is a stark contrast to the dark greens and grays of the environment around her.
One of the ballerinos enters the stage soon after, a slightly older boy named Adrian, with a medieval style prince’s tunic, mid length brown hair that flops over his brows and ears, and a charming smile. He holds a prop bow and tiptoes on the edge of the shadows, on the hunt for a creature of legend.
The two dance around each other like this for a while, the elegant firebird evading the prince on his hunt, until the orchestra reaches a crescendo and the bird is caught, wings pinned before she can take flight. The dance becomes a reluctant duet, one trying to escape while the other reels her back in. Finally, a feather is plucked from the tail of the firebird and she is released.
Dimitri gracefully plucks a flame-like feather that had been pinned into her hair and hands it to Adrian, who holds it in awe as she makes her escape from the stage.
Dimitri continues to watch the performance from backstage, knowing exactly how it should all play out, and yet still finding herself impressed by the atmosphere created by the final showcase. Adrian stays on the stage, finding himself amongst a dozen more ballerinas and eventually, a young princess. Dimitri can’t contain her smile as her friend, Pari, takes the spotlight. It was bold for the coaches to put her front and center during a time when her religion has been all but rejected by the world. Her skill in ballet makes her more than deserving of the part, but the pastel blue hijab wrapped around her head makes her all the more beautiful as the princess.
“How do I look?” Dimitri startles as Lev appears next to her. He’s in a ridiculous costume as an evil warlock. A tattered, black cloak is draped across his shoulders and he holds a gnarled staff. He’s the only ballerino tall enough to pull off the menacing antagonist of the play.
It takes everything in her not to burst out laughing.
Lev chuckles, “It’s my time to shine, wish me luck.” He leaps out onto the stage and pulls everyone’s attention to himself.
The air itself feels thick as the music changes key and an ominous mood falls over the entire room. The evil warlock snatches the wrists of women as they attempt to run and he makes his way across the stage, snatching up girls and lifting them high, spinning them, and replacing them onto the forest floor before sneaking behind a tree to capture another victim.
The costume and theme may not be flattering to him, but the coaches knew what they were doing in casting Lev as the antagonist. There’s no better way to show off his strength and breathtaking stage presence as a dancer.
The orchestra sets a dramatic tone as the prince confronts the warlock in order to rescue the princess and the others. The prince reaches desperately but is caught at every attempt by the warlock’s monstrous minions. Finally, in a last hopeful effort, he produces the feather from his vest pocket and holds it high, invoking the help of the elusive firebird. That’s Dimitri’s cue.
This time it’s Dimitri that leaps onto the stage, but her steps are far more light than those of Lev’s. She prances and weaves between the other dancers in a show of grace and hope. The firebird has been called upon in a time of need and responds with vindication. Not one of the monsters can lay a finger on her as she flits about the woods.
There’s no struggle to keep from laughing this time as Dimitri reaches Lev in his silly costume and makeup. For this time, she’s fully focused on her performance. It is not Lev in front of her, it’s a malicious warlock, and she is not Dimitri, she is the stunning and mysterious phoenix. She has arrived just in the nick of time to free the prince, princess, and all of the other girls being held captive by this demon. Once free, they are all able to work together, dancing around their oppressor in order to render him powerless over them. The monsters fall back into the shadows until they’ve left the stage completely.
As the warlock crumples to the floor in defeat, the lights brighten, the fog disperses, and the music softens. Having done her duty, the firebird takes her leave, leaving space for the prince to take the hand of the princess. Celebrations ensue as evil is defeated and love wins. The prince gifts the phoenix feather to the princess as a promise of the perseverance of their love.
The curtains close as the lovers finally embrace. The dancers who had left the stage in the final act now return, behind the curtain, and line up. It takes another minute for the orchestra to finish their own set and all of the dancers to take each others’ hands. The curtains reopen and they all bow deeply as the crowd stands and respectfully claps and cheers. Rising from the bow, Dimitri doesn’t bother trying to pick out her family or anyone else in the crowds and keeps her eyes just over everyone’s head, gazing into an invisible horizon at the other end of the room. The curtains close once again.
All of the dancers are itching to get out of their costumes now that the show is over, but a flow of photographers enters the stage before any of them can even consider it. Dimitri has her hand up, working a pin out of her hair, when she notices the cameras. She sighs in defeat, dropping her hand and leaving the tight bun up, which results in a throbbing headache that she can no longer ignore now that she’s not preoccupied with the performance.
A tripod is set up in front of the closed curtains and the photographer begins yelling over the chattering of dancers, attempting to order everyone into formation. He may as well be yelling underwater and has the hopeless look of a castaway as well.
Coach Yelchin, clearly impatient, silences the troupe herself with a bark, “C’mon everyone! The faster you comply, the sooner we can get out of here! I’d like to go home just as much as you all!”
Silence fills the room as everyone turns toward the coach, who motions to the photographer. He nods his thanks at the coach and starts over in ordering their formation. The photographer’s voice doesn’t carry well even in a silent auditorium, but Coach Yelchin’s intimidating presence next to him provides the authority that he needs. The dancers promptly find their places for a group photo out of fear of what torturous training the coach will come up with if they don’t submit.
Coach Pietr uses a soft hand to lead stragglers into position until the photographer gives a thumbs up. Yelchin is the last one to join the group on one end, next to Pietr.
“Alright, everyone, give me a few serious shots first, then you can relax. Yep, just like that…” He leans into the camera to look through the lens and then stands after one picture, “You on the far right! Please, take this seriously so that we can all be finished for the evening.”
Dimitri, front and center with Lev, Adrian, and Pari, cranes her neck to see who the photographer was talking about. All the dancers chuckle when one of the boys in a ghoulish costume quickly drops his hands –or claws, to be more accurate– from hovering over the head of the ballerina in front of him. She hadn’t even noticed he was doing it and scoffs, giving him a dirty look over her shoulder.
Coach Yelchin commands respect once again, “QUIET!” She leans forward to point at the monster on the other end of the formation as her, “Don’t get on my shit list, Victor, or else you better not even show your face at practice ever again.”
The smile is wiped from his face and everyone gets their acts together for the pictures.
The photographer relaxes himself after a dozen pictures, “Okay, now you can goof around and then you’re free.”
The monsters on both sides, sandwiching the troupe, all promptly follow Victor’s lead and find a ballerina nearby to maul. Lev throws Dimitri over his shoulder, the evil warlock victorious over the phoenix in the end.
The photographer doesn’t even get a chance to decide whether he’s done or not, as the dancers only last another 30 seconds in somewhat of a formation before dispersing. Dimitri is still draped over Lev’s shoulder, both of them laughing hysterically, as they make it backstage.
Once set down, Lev disappears and Dimitri begins plucking pins from her hair one by one. She then fights a hair band out until her hair is a tangled mess, cascading over her shoulders. The pressure removed from her scalp, she lets out a sigh of relief, drifting to the floor and proceeding to remove the silk bindings from her feet. One blister pops as the pressure is released from her pointe shoes as well. She lays flat, spread out on the backstage floor, a deflated balloon.
Dimitri closes her eyes for a moment and, once reopened, notices that Pari and Laney have joined her on the floor, albeit they’re sitting up. They’ve followed suit, pointe shoes off, hair down, and hijab loosened around Pari’s face, allowing a few dark strands of hair to poke out around her forehead. Dimitri sits up, smiling at her friends, and they all stay on the floor for several minutes until Lev returns from the boys’ changing room. He’s ditched the cloak and extravagant costume, leaving him in just his dance tights and a baggy tee. There’s still dark smudges of makeup around his eyes where he clearly gave up on fully cleaning up.
“Ready to go face our families?” Lev offers a hand to the three girls in succession, helping them stand.
Dimitri is the last to take his hand, “My dad better have brought me food like I asked before the show, I’m starved.”
The group makes their way to the door and down a hallway to a reception room, where parents and loved ones loiter around, waiting for the dancers. Soft music plays in the shadows of the crowd, barely audible between conversations but recognizable as a recording of the show’s accompanying soundtrack. Dimitri scans the crowd, noticing Diane first, having left sooner than the others and standing nearby with her boyfriend and both of their families. She struggles to find her own family, instead allowing her gaze to fall on the three foreign recruiters, standing near the door and watching intensely as dancers file into the room. She accidentally makes eye contact with one –a petite woman with a stern face and pointed nose– and forces a friendly smile and polite nod. The woman returns the gesture but before the interaction can proceed further, Lev is nudging Dimitri’s shoulder and using his chin to point towards the other side of the room. Following his view, Dimitri sees both sets of their parents chatting and the two of them weave through dancers and families until they reach their destination. They’ve lost the other girls along the way, but from the corner of her eye, Dimitri can see them reuniting with their own loved ones.
It’s been a month since she’s seen her family, and they’re all wearing masks. She’s a little bit disappointed to be unable to properly see their faces. Dimitri is still able to notice that her father has shaved his beard off. His thick mustache is still there though, its bushy outline visible against the mask. The last time she saw him without any scruff was the last time he was able to attend one of her performances, nearly a year ago now. She’s surprisingly startled by the lack of dust on his slacks, but that only makes his gray hairs all the more prominent. Next to him, Dimitri notes that her mother has recently dyed her hair to hide her own increasing grays. Although no amount of makeup can hide the wrinkles between her mother’s eyes that have noticeably deepened in the past several weeks. Mikhail, on the other hand, looks the same as ever, uninterested and too cool to be there. She can see through his facade, though, and targets him with a playful punch in the shoulder as she makes it to her family.
“Privyet, punk.” He returns the punch, “Nice job not fucking up out there.”
Their mother throws him a glare, but before she can chastise their behavior, Alexei is pulling Dimitri into a bear hug. “Bravo, Di. You make me proud!” He releases her and then digs a bar out of his pocket for her. “We will go get dinner after this, but I hope this is enough to hold you over.”
“Spacibo, thank you, Papa. It means a lot for you to have come tonight. Work won’t give you any issues, will they?” Dimitri takes the bar and quickly tears the wrapper off to dig in.
Alexei laughs, “Nyet! Don’t worry about the mines, tonight is your night. I saw those intimidating judges make lots of notes while you were on stage, they would be fools not to recruit you!”
“No, the mines are closed for the time being, thank the gods,” Katya finally enters the conversation and pulls Dimitri into a hug as well. “You look beautiful, Dimitri, but you should put one of these on while you’re out here in this crowd.” She pulls a mask out of her own pocket, much less exciting than the food that Dimitri’s father had provided.
Dimitri finishes her snack and hooks the mask around her ears, “I’ve already been around all these people for the past month, so I doubt it’ll make a difference at this point, but if it makes you feel better…”
“It does, thank you.”
Next to them, Lev is going through an awkward family reunion himself, except his parents are unmasked and Dimitri can hear them immediately asking how soon he’ll know about the recruitment. Dimitri comes to his rescue.
“Mr. and Mrs. Novikov! It’s great to see you here! I cannot thank you two enough for letting me stay at the house with Lev, this month!”
Mr. Novikov tries and fails to hide his annoyance at her interruption, “Ah, Miss Dimitri, you know you’re welcome any time. Congratulations, by the way, you may as well have stolen the show!”
Dimitri can’t help but to blush at the compliment, “Thank you so much! Although, nobody could have outshined our terrifying warlock here!” She elbows Lev.
“Warlock, right… Not completely sure why that was his part and not the prince, but I suppose none of the other boys could have shown as much strength as our son.” He plasters a smile on his face.
It’s at this time that the conversations in the room are interrupted by someone coming through on a speaker somewhere. Heads turn in different directions, looking for the origin of the voice, until the eyes in the room settle on one end, closest to the stage entrance from which the dancers had arrived. The petite woman that Dimitri had seen earlier, one of the ballet recruiters, has a microphone in her hand.
“Sorry for the interruption everyone, but we wanted to tell before you all leave for the night. I’m sure you are tired from the day and look forward to meals and beds, so I’ll make this short.” The woman has thick, brown curls that hardly move as she speaks in broken Russian. It’s clearly not her first language, but she comes across clearly enough. “My name is Ariana Cortez and I am from Portugal, here with Miss Margot Roux and Mr. Jules DuPont from France.” She motions to her companions successively; a beautiful blonde woman in a loose, floral dress, and a lean black man with his hair in tight braids on his scalp. “I am certain you were all aware of our presence here, but if not, we have been traveling around Europe and Asia to recruit dancers for an elite international team to perform for the world leaders as a symbol of unity and diversity.
She pauses to open a small notebook in her hand and check something before struggling through the pronunciation of some of the next words, “With the new pope about to be inaugurated, many nations are preparing to declare their religious states and leaders will be publicly accepting the Word of God as political truth. You dancers are too young, but I am sure your parents remember the declaration of mass extinction in the early 60s. It was a sign from God that Earth belongs to us humans.”
“It was a sign that we’re next.” Katya grumbles just loud enough for her family to hear.
“…The new pope hopes to further unify the world, and we hope to express said unity at the time of the treaty signing. Now, we have one more performance to attend in St. Petersburg next weekend, and then we will be contacting dancers in regards to their recruitment status. Expect to hear back within two weeks. Otherwise, great job tonight and we wish you all well.”
The other two standing with Ariana take turns with the microphone to speak a short phrase in French, most likely a respectful ‘thanks.’ At the far end of the room, Dimitri can hardly hear their words as the crowd quickly returns to their chatter and soon after begins to file out of the room now that they have no reason to wait around for news.
Lev’s dad turns to the group and claps his hands together, “Within two weeks! We can work with that timeline.” He turns to Lev directly, “Get your things together when we get back to the house tonight, in the morning we’re flying north, I want you to join your mother and I for a bit.”
Lev glances at Dimitri for a split second and then agrees with his father.
“I’ll call you then, Lev!” Dimitri offers a smile, knowing he’ll be miserable for the next week and expecting plenty of rants about their narcissistic tendencies. She pulls him in for a quick hug and says goodbye.
Lev’s parents shake hands with Dimitri’s and she recognizes disgust in her mother’s eyes. She shares it but not for the same reasons.
Everyone melts into the crowd and Dimitri loses track of her other friends before she can say goodbye to them for their next week off of practice. She sticks with her family as her father corrals them out of the reception room and then outside of the concert hall itself. In the family car, all of her belongings are already waiting, Dimitri having organized them in the foyer of Lev’s house for her parents to pick up before the performance. Her bags and, in turn, the entire vehicle smells of palo santo. Dimitri could identify that scent anywhere, as her mother has used the plant to cleanse their home for as long as she can remember. She rolls her eyes at the pungent aroma now covering all of her clothing but doesn’t say a word about it to her mother. Some battles will never be worth the fight.
The family picks up dinner and brings it back to the hotel that Dimitri’s parents booked. They laugh behind promises not to tell the coaches that her first meal after the biggest performance of her life thus far is the greasiest cheeseburger and fries that they could find. That night in bed, Dimitri listens to the snoring of her father sharing the next bed with her mother, and sees the glow of Mikhail’s phone from the pull-out couch as he stays up scrolling through social media. Her eyes are cast to the ceiling, and maybe the heavens beyond the smog of the city, as she lays in her own bed. That smog fills her thoughts with Ariana Cortez and her heavy words of a foreign religion and its stronghold on the majority of humanity.
She mutters no prayers, to her mother’s gods nor anyone else’s, and she doesn’t credit Dzbog for her successful performance, only herself.
A hot wind blows into the room from the window, which she didn’t realize was open until now, but Mikhail quietly gets up to close it before she can consider it. As he returns to bed this time, Mikhail leaves his phone off and Dimitri can hear him mutter one of their mother’s prayers to the god of fortune himself. She’s never understood that blind faith that everyone around her seems to have, but that wind has left a strange feeling in her bones, as if someone is listening.
~Does it really matter? The world seems to think so, but have I not gotten everything I wanted myself? My own hard work and determination? So why should I let someone else take the credit? One day, the world will look at the portraits they’ve made of God and realize they’re all just mirrors.~