Chapter Seventeen
Sunday, 2:30am, New York City
Chapter Seventeen
Sunday, 2:30am, New York City
“So where did that fine specimen of human craftsmanship you call a boyfriend go?”
Regan laughed, turning to face the curious, yet ever so mischievous expression that was patented by none other than her curious and ever so mischievous cousin. “He had to make a phone call or something,” she sighed, turning a chair over and sliding it onto the recently cleared table. The party had cleared out a half an hour before and after shooing Mike and Bridget out, she promised to have the Irish Gondola back to normal by opening the next day. Finn and Justin stayed behind to help out, JC and Grace having mysteriously left the party around midnight.
“A phone call, eh?” Finn repeated, leaning back against the same table.
“That’s what he said,” Regan confirmed, leaning next to Finn, too tired to wonder where her cousin was going. Thankfully, she wasn’t going anywhere. The random babble Finn employed to keep the silence away was another of her many trademarks.
“So, damn, Regan. I’m out of the picture for a little while and all of a sudden you’re dating a pop god? I can’t say I’m not disappointed in you,” Finn smirked, cocking and eyebrow. “I mean, we’re blood, girl. I should have had first dibs!”
“First of all,” Regan laughed, “the Fro is not really your type, nor are any of the others as far as I can tell. Second of all, I haven’t really made a habit of subjecting new friends to a baptism by fire lately. I prefer to ease them into the Costelloe family inner workings. You, my dear, are a bit jarring.”
“Jarring? I don’t think I’ve ever been to referred to as ‘jarring’,” Finn replied, thoughtfully. “I like it,” she decided with a nudge. “However, I’m not a Costelloe as you recall.”
“Like it matters,” Regan huffed. “The name may be Finnley, but the heart is Costelloe.”
“You getting mushy in your old age?”
Regan nodded, sheepishly, realizing the cheesiness of her last statement but still committed to it’s truth.
“Well, I guess love will do that to you,” Finn added, noticing Justin striding across the empty room. Regan didn’t respond and Finn wondered if she’d even heard her comment. Her cousin was obviously fixated on the same sight she’d just taken note of. “Well! I’m going to go collect some table cloths way over on the other side of the room,” she announced meaningfully as Justin reached the two girls.
Justin’s eyes followed her as she crossed the room before looking back to Regan, shaking his head. “She’s a piece of work isn’t she?”
“You have no idea,” Regan confirmed, turning to continue her task, grabbing another chair.
Justin moved to the opposite end of the round table to turn the chairs he found there.
“So what time does your plane leave tomorrow?” Regan asked, unable to mask the sadness in her voice.
The emotion in her tone tugged at Justin’s heart. He was getting the first hint of what it was going to be like to leave her. He’d convinced himself that even if hadn’t said anything to her, if he’d kept his feelings to himself, he’d still be hurting without her. At least this way, he knew when he did see her they’d be together. What he wasn’t prepared for was the pain that would come from being with her but not with her. He was beginning to think that it would be worse than not having her at all. “Early. Me and JC fly out at 8:45.”
Regan nodded, solemnly before running a tired hand over her face.
“You know this is going to be tough, right?” he asked, wanting to take back the words as soon as they left his lips. Of course, she knew.
She smiled good-naturedly , raising an eyebrow. “Oh you mean tough in the sense that we’ll practically never see each other or tough in the sense that your fame will get me stalked?”
“Um… both?”
“Yeah I have a vague idea.”
“See, I like the fact that you can laugh about this, but we’re going to have some rough times ahead.”
“Are you trying to scare me or warn me?”
“Neither. I just… I just don’t want to end up losing you because of who I am.”
“Timberlake, the fame and that whole world… that’s not who you are. It may be what you are but not who. I can’t promise that what you are and what I am won’t cause us problems. The one thing I can promise you is that you will never lose me because of who you are. As far as I can tell, that’s the one thing that will get me through all the rest.”
Before Regan knew what had hit her, Justin made his way back to her side of the table and crushed her in tight embrace. She relaxed immediately, allowing herself to fall into him. “That is very possibly the most incredible thing anyone has ever said to me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. She was speechless. Something she had said, something that was nothing more than the simple truth in her mind, had really meant something to him.
He leaned back, slightly, his hands moving down to rest on her hips. “How would you feel about taking a field trip to Atlanta tomorrow?” His tone was kidding and he knew it would be impossible for her, but there was still an aching hope in his chest that she’d say to hell with her rehearsals even though he couldn’t say to hell with his own.
“I would love nothing more right now,” she smiled sadly. “But I can’t go any more than you can stay here.”
“I know,” he sighed, ducking his forehead down to rest against hers. “We’re going to find a way to make this work, you know.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Her smile was fading. It was clear that there was a lot of effort going into keeping it on her face.
“I’m already convinced,” he stated with a new found confidence, even he didn’t know the source of. “We are going to make this work. No matter what.”
“Okay,” she nodded, his head nodding along with hers.
“Nuh uh,” he said pulling away again. “You have to say it.”
“We’re going to make this work.”
“That’s my girl,” he said leaning in and picking her up slightly, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. As he put her down, she noticed a very pleased expression on his face.
“What’s that look about, Timberlake?” she questioned.
“I like the sound of that.”
“What”
“My girl.”
“You are really corny, you know that, right?” Regan said, pinching his sides and pulling away to finish putting the chairs up.
“But good corny, right?” he nudged her before returned to his side of the table.
“Sure, why not?” she chuckled.
Justin’s jaw dropped in mock hurt. “You cut me, Regan. You cut me real deep.”
“Aww, poor baby,” Regan cooed, putting the last chair on her side up on the table and cocking an eyebrow. “You missed a chair.”
“I’m going to remember this, Costelloe,” Justin nodded, menacingly, grabbing the chair purposefully. .
“I’m scared now,” Regan grinned devilishly, leaning forward on the table.
Despite the butterflies that her smile gave him, he returned her grin with one twice as mischievous. “You should be.”
Regan immediately began to back up. “Don’t even think about it, Fro.” He began to move towards her slowly, each step more meaningful than the last. She backed up for each step he took. “I mean it.” His grin, if possible, grew wider and she immediately took off at a run, weaving through tables, grabbing random napkins and discarded streamers and throwing them in his general direction as he easily closed in on. Her graceful gait was no match for his long easy strides and within moments he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Put me down!”
“I thought you weren’t scared, sweetie,” he said innocently as he made his way to the dance floor.
“I’m not!” she protested. “You’re bony shoulder is piercing my pancreas!”
“Don’t worry,” he said lightly slapping her butt. “You don’t need that, anyway.”
“That’s your appendix, brainiac!”
He laughed at her harried voice, frustrated but punctuated with involuntary giggles. “I guess I should put you down, then, huh?”
“C’mon!” she whined pitifully.
“What’s that magic word?” he teased, spinning her around on the dance floor that was cluttered with stray pieces of fallen streamer.
“Fuck you!”
His eyes widened, and he chuckled deep in his throat. “No, that’s the magic expletive, darling,” he grinned, his free hand moving up to her side, tickling her relentlessly. She began to giggle uncontrollably and he made a mental note that she was terribly ticklish… and to find out where else she reacted the same way. “What’s the magic word?”
“Gag? Choke?”
Justin whipped around at the new voice in the conversation, perhaps too fast for the young woman balancing precariously on his shoulder. Finn was standing off to the side, hip cocked to the side. “You two are sickenly cute. Is this what I’m going to deal with when we’re roommates, cousin dear?”
Justin blushed slightly, not really embarrassed, but surprised that he’d managed to completely forget that there was another person in the room. He set Regan on her feet, still recovering from the relentless prodding of his nibble fingers. She pushed him in a lame retaliation of his attack before looking to Finn.
“You know, I still don’t recall agreeing to you little self-invitation,” she smirked.
“When have I ever needed your agreement in the past?” Finn shook her head in confusion.
“Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the same impressionable eleven-year-old that you could get to do anything,” Regan countered as Finn sauntered over.
“No, I realize that,” Finn said. “You’re now a grown up, impressionable nineteen-year-old that I can get to do anything I want and I fully respect that.”
“You are incorrigible,” Regan shook her head, smiling ruefully.
“Incorrigible? I haven’t heard that since my third boarding school,” Finn said. “Now, I’d love to leave you two love birds alone but in order to do that you’re going to have to give me you’re keys and point my towards Greenwich Village.”
“You want me to give you my keys?”
“Where else am I going to sleep? You obviously want to spend some time alone with this young stud and I’m certainly not going to go sit out on the stoop until dawn while you make your goodbyes.”
“She has a point,” Justin shrugged.
“Traitor,” Regan said shooting him a look, but silently realizing this was the only way they were going to get any alone time before he had to leave in the morning. “Okay, fine. But do not touch anything. Do not rearrange my CDs. Do not go through my closet. Do not ransack the medicine cabinet. We’ll figure something out tomorrow but when I get home later, I want my apartment to look like my apartment. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” Finn nodded with a salute.
The three managed to get the restaurant back to normal in less than hour and once Regan was satisfied Mike wouldn’t have too much to complain about in the morning, she called Finn a cab. She instructed the driver on where to take her cousin, warning that she knew exactly how much the ride from the restaurant to her place cost so he wouldn’t take Finn for a ride.
After the car pulled away, Justin wrapped his arms around her from behind and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her fading perfume deeply. She always smelled so sweet. “So what do you want to do now?”
“Well, we can’t go back to my place, obviously. You have a hotel room, right?”
“Miss Regan,” Justin gaped. “This is all moving a little to fast for me.”
“Shut up,” she said, laughing at his artificial shock. “You know I didn’t mean that. I just don’t think hanging out at the Gondola is going to be laughs-a-plenty and it’s not particularly safe to be walking around the city right now.”
“Regan I don’t think it’s going to be a problem at this hour,” Justin chuckled.
She turned around to face him, her expression incredulous. “Justin, I think you’ve been in the spotlight too long. I wasn’t talking about frantic teenies. I was talking about muggers.”
“Oh,” Justin blushed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go back to the hotel.”
“Good idea.”
“Calm down, Jack,” Boland said calmly, shuffling through random papers on his desk. “You’ve done your job and I’m thankful for that. Miss Costelloe has surpassed my other subjects by weeks and it doesn’t really matter if she trusts me or not at this point. It looks like I may have nailed the solution’s proper combination this time. She’ll be kissing my feet this time next month. You’ve earned my recommendation for the Kline Fellowship.”
“Thank you Dr. Boland. And if that was all I cared about, there wouldn’t be a problem.” Jack raked a frustrated hand over his face and slumped down in his chair.
“Kid, I know you were genuinely interested in this girl but if you want to be a doctor, you have to learn when to burn bridges. What means more to you? The girl or your future?” While Boland normally would have taken the young man’s silence as his answer, the look Jack had worried him. He certainly didn’t need the kid running to Regan and using his knowledge of Boland’s methods to get his girlfriend back. “Listen to me Salinger and listen good. If you do anything to jeopardize what I’ve dedicated my career to, I will destroy you. Forget the fellowship, no medical school will touch you. You don’t want to end up teaching Biology in some junior high in North Dakota, do you?”
“I just—”
“No. There is no “just”. This goes all the way or you get nothing. Am I understood?”
Jack inhaled deeply and nodded.
“I didn’t hear you,” Boland spat, demanding a verbal response.
“Yes,” Jack ground out. He understood perfectly. But that wasn’t going to stop him from taking back what was his. He rose from his seat and stalked towards the door, not looking back. Outside, Kyle was approaching Boland’s office. Without so much as a nod, Jack passed Kyle, apparantly not recognizing him. But Kyle knew Jack Salinger all too well.
“Was that the kid you were telling me about?” Kyle questioned as he entered the room.
”Yes. Jack Salinger. And it seems Miss Costelloe has found herself a new beau and Salinger’s not happy. No need to worry. He won’t be talking,” Boland replied, seemingly unconcerned.
“Boland there’s something you should probably know about that kid,” Kyle said, taking the seat Jack had just vacated.
Boland wasn’t listening, as his eyes scanned over the paper he’d been looking for. “What did you just say?”
Kyle shook his head, figuring it wasn’t of any consequence if Regan had broken up with him already. “Nothing. So now what? Is it time to put that information I dug up into play?”
“No, no,” Boland sighed, dropping the paper to the desk. “ There’s no need to alienate her unless she tries to back out. Relax Kyle and enjoy the ride to immortality.”
Regan trudged up the stairs, wearily, and made her way down the hall to her apartment. She cringed as she heard the music blaring through the door. New Edition. Finn apparently hadn’t grown out of her 80s pop obsession. Regan yawned and opened the unlocked door, praying Finn hadn’t left it open all night.
Finn sat in the middle of the living room floor, going through Regan’s CD’s. She looked up, smiling guiltily and grabbing the remote to the stereo, turning “Cool it Now” down to a normal level. “You realize that this won’t do,” Finn shook her head, gesturing to Regan’s modest apartment. “Regan, it’s like one room. How do you live like this?”
“Well, there is only one of me,” Regan countered, slipping the heels off her aching feet.
“I guess,” Finn shrugged, dropping one of the CDs she’d been inspecting to the floor. “And you have it done up really cute but there’s no way two of us can live here.”
“Well if it isn’t Captain Obvious,” Regan smirked. “Seriously, Finn, why don’t you just take the loft at Bridget and Mike’s? It’s been hell for them trying to find a tenet anyway. Not like you’ll have a problem with the rent.”
“Because, Regan dear, I want to live with you. C’mon, it’ll be so much fun. We’ll be like sisters again!”
“Again?” Regan cocked an eyebrow as she sank down in the chair beside Finn on the floor.
“Well, you know what I mean. Plus with my extensive financial resources, we could get an awesome place that’s way closer to Lincoln Center than this. Think about it. You could walk to rehearsals instated of catching the bus.”
“That sounds great Finn, but I don’t want to live anywhere where I can’t pay my own way.”
“Please, Regan. When else in your life will you ever get something for nothing? Please, please, please! Just think of how much fun we’ll have apartment hunting.”
What was it about Finn’s personality that was so hard to refuse? Regan couldn’t put her finger on it. She was the same as she was as a child and Regan feared the reappearance of the same kind of relationship they had as children. “Fine, but you’ll have to do the hunting without me. The ballet opens in five days and every waking moment I have will be spent in rehearsal.
“Oh that’s no fun,” Finn whined. “I guess we can put it off until after things calm down for you. God, I haven’t seen you dance in so long! I can’t wait.”
“Me neither. Especially since it will be my last performance for a while,” Regan said through sleepy hooded eyes.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Finn demanded. “Since you could walk all you’ve wanted to do was dance. Is this Justin’s doing cus I will kick his scrawny ass. What did he say to you last night?”
“Finn, this has nothing to do with Justin except for the for that before he came along, I didn’t know there was anything outside of ballet. He doesn’t even know yet. I’m going to tell him when he calls tonight.”
“This is a pretty big deal, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it most definitely is. But it’s something I have to do. I’ll explain it to you later but I’m going to get a few hours of sleep while I can.”
With that, Regan rose and made her way into the bedroom, collapsing on the unmade bed left by her cousin.
“Hiya Curly!” Chris grinned as Justin sauntered into the arena, JC not far behind him. “So how’s our favorite ballerina? Didya bitch-out again?”
“Chris, I missed you so,” Justin drawled. “And now I remember why.” He dumped his duffle bag on the floor next to the stage and sank down to the floor, using the bag as a pillow.
“Oh no, young man,” Johnny shook his head, approaching a very worn out Timberlake. “We’ve already lost a lot of time. I need you up on stage right away. You guys are late as it is. Darren’s been waiting long enough. Time is money.”
“Johnny, only one platitude in that lecture? I’m disappointed in you,” Justin gaped, sitting up from his makeshift bed.
“I’ll have time to think of more while you’re rehearsing,” Johnny cracked.
Justin grudgingly worked his way to his feet and hoisted himself up onto the stage. Joey approached him with is mischievous swagger. “So, J, you didn’t answer the question. What happened with you and the cutie.”
“Please don’t address my girlfriend with your lame terms of endearment, Fatone,” Justin smiled smugly.
“Girlfriend, eh?” Lance said walking over to the pair. “Damn Justin, you already sold you’re soul to the Devil for those boyish good-looks. What’d you have to give him this time?”
“And everybody thinks he’s the shy one,” Chris quipped coming up behind Lance, mussing his blond spikes.
“What can I say?” Justin shrugged. “It was meant to be.”
“Everyone else who thought he was going to say “The honeys can’t resist me” raise your hand,” Chris kidded as everyone raised their hands.
“Can’t get no respect,” Justin pouted.
“Excuse me! I hate to break up the coffee clutch but can we get started, ladies?” Darren inquired from across the stage.
“Sorry man,” Justin waved, making his way past the guys and over to Darren
“Don’t think this is over, kid! I want details,” Joey called after him before the rest followed Justin’s lead.
By the time they got back to the hotel that night everyone was too exhausted to hold Justin to Joey’s threat and they all retreated to their rooms offering mumbled goodnights to their friends. Justin dropped his duffle on the floor and crawled onto the bed, sprawling across it and offering a silent prayer of thanks that the days when they had to share rooms were long gone. He rested his eyes for a few moments before rolling over to the edge of the bed and retrieving his cell from the side pocket of his bag. He dialed the number from memory and waited patiently for the voice he needed to hear to fill his ears.
“Finn’s Penis and Pickle pumps! Finn speaking.”
That most defiantly was not the voice. “Finn, is Regan there?” Justin said, deciding he was too tired to run with her greeting.
“Yeah, is this Justin?”
“Yeah, she’s not sleeping is she?” Justin asked, rolling onto his back again and eyeing the clock- 2am.
“No, but she does have rehearsal in the morning so don’t keep her up too late with your sweet talking,” Justin heard her say, Regan obviously trying to get at the phone in the background. He smiled.
“Don’t worry mom, she’ll be in bed at a decent hour,” Justin smirked.
“Like she was last night? I’m sorry Timberlake but I can’t have you corrupting my baby cousin. She’s too young to tame the one-eyed snake.”
Justin almost choked and he could hear Regan protesting in the background. “I haven’t heard that expression since the seventh grade.”
“Are you insinuating that I’m immature?” Regan was whining at this point as Finn continued the very sparring Justin was trying to avoid.
“Can you please put Regan on the phone?”
“Jeeze all you had to do was ask,” she huffed and he could hear her passing the phone to Regan.
“I’m sorry. She’ll be dead by morning,” Regan greeted.
“It’s perfectly okay,” Justin laughed. “And I would hold out on murder. Your going to need a better defense than ‘she wouldn't give me the phone’.”
“Always thinking, you are,” Regan chuckled. “Never let anyone say your Mamma didn’t raise a genius.”
“Well I knew you only liked me for my mind,” Justin smiled, simply enjoying the sound of her voice.
“Damn skippy. So how was your day, dear?”
“Tiring. I didn’t get much sleep on the plane and they sent me straight into the mines when I got back.”
“The mines, eh? Did you wear one of those little hats with the lights on ‘em cus I think those are sexy.”
“Absolutely,” he responded, as if it had been a stupid question.
“Okay, so I wanted to tell you something really quick and then you can get back to telling me about your hat.”
“Shoot.”
“I’m going to back out of Boland’s study and take some time off from the ballet to get a real physical therapist,” Regan said quickly and as if she was telling him about how the weather was there. “So about that hat…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Justin shook his head, shooting straight up in bed. “Are you serious?”
He could hear Regan sigh solemnly. “I just don’t like how this is all making me feel. I feel like an experiment. I feel like every time I take a step, something will give out. I’m never sure of what’s going on with my body and I hate it. I need to feel like I’m in control.”
“What about your dancing? What happens if you take time so soon after you’ve been hired?” Justin was only curious as to how she’d answer. Inside, he was practically jumping for joy. The only thing that could come close to making him as happy as he was the first time he kissed her was to hear that Boland would be out of the picture.
“I’m not sure, yet. I still have to talk to Jeremy. I’m not sure how understanding he’ll be considering it’s his brother’s study I’m backing out of. But worse comes to worse, there are other companies out there. I’ll still have been an ABT ballerina and maybe I’ll be able to get a job where I’ll have a better chance at becoming a principle dancer while I'm still in my prime dancing years."
“Wow,” Justin breathed. He’d never heard her talk like this. She always sounded half-obsessed when she talked about ballet. Now she sounded downright sensible.
“It’s funny, ya know? The thought of being let go from ABT used to scare the shit out of me even when I was just in the studio company— when I was still dreaming of being part of the professional company. But now… I’m already living in this constant state of fear and anticipation. I just want to be sure of something and I can’t be sure of anything while I’m a damn experiment.”
“I have to tell you, Regan,” Justin started, falling back onto the mattress, “I’m really relieved. That guy made me nervous.”
“You and me both,” Regan sighed.
“So when are you going to tell them?”
“I won’t say anything until after the show’s run. It opens in five days and there’s only a two week run and then the company goes into rehearsals for the next show. I’ve worked my whole life to get here but I’d rather be able to walk in five years than spend a few months at ABT prancing in the chorus.”
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Regan Costelloe?”
“I’m serious. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking and Bridget was right. I have sacrificed everything else in life for a dream that has brought me nothing but fear and pain and anxiety. I love to dance but I’ve lost that passion I had when I first started. I don’t feel it the way I used to. If I don’t take care of myself, I may never have the chance to get that passion back. And that scares me more than anything. I need to stop relying on miracle cures and start being true to myself and my intuitions. Until I get myself back on track, I can't see how I can ever love dancing the way I used to. So… after Sleeping Beauty closes, Aaron Boland can find another guinea pig.”
“Well, I think that’s the best plan I’ve heard in a long time.”
“C’mon, say it,” Bridget taunted her husband.
“Say what, woman?” Mike said, leaning away from his wife’s insistence and subsequent pokes in the ribs. His eyes scanned the paper, pretending to read.
“I said I told you so and now it’s your turn to admit you were wrong,” she replied as if he should have known all along.
“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about, dear.”
“Michael! Justin Timberlake and your sister, that’s what I’m talking about. I told you they were perfect for each other and you said it would never happen. I was right. You were wrong. Just say it so we can get back to our damn lives.”
“Bridget, love of my life,” he began with a sarcastic twinge in his eyes, “I don’t believe I was ever consulted on the matter. You were right, yes. But I never opposed you so you can just take your ‘I told you so’s and sit on them.”
Bridget pouted, realizing her husband was right. She’d never given him a chance to be wrong. She was too caught up with JC and their plan to even tell him. “Damn…”
“That’s right, sweetie,” Mike nodded, leaning in to peck her on the cheek, nothing short of condescension in his voice, “but don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get to say “I told you so” real soon. You’re over due.”
“Bite me, Costelloe,” she ground out through her unmoving pout. She climbed up from the couch and stalked into the kitchen. She put on water for tea and stared at the kettle for what seemed like an hour, grinding her teeth and tapping her newly manicured fingers— a self-congratulatory reward for a plan well executed— on the counter top. A moment after she settled at the table with her tea, the phone rang.
“What?” she answered, her mood not improved.
“Damn, chicks. Nice greeting.”
“Sorry, what’s up JC?”
“Nothing. I just thought you might be interested in a little tidbit of information that landed in my lap this morning at breakfast.”
“Hit me,” Bridget said, her curiosity overriding the mood she’d settled into.
“Justin spoke to Regan late last night. It would appear that she will be taking some time from ABT. Did you know about this?”
“No! Damn, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Why not? I thought this is what you wanted all along: for Regan to get herself a life outside of ballet.”
“No, I mean Regan and Justin. Now you’ll know all sorts of shit before me.”
“Well, chicks, you know I’ll always tell you,” JC teased.
“It’s not the same,” Bridget said coming dangerously close to resuming her pout.
“Is there a reason you’re acting younger than you’re daughter lately?”
“Am not!”
“Are to.”
“Am not!”
“Are to.”
“Am not, infinity!”
“Well, I stand corrected. You’re not acting childish at all.”
“JC, I’m going to hang up now, track down my sister-in-law, shake her down for info and then I’m going to fly down to Atlanta and kick your skinny ass, okay?”
“You and what army?”
“Three words, Chasez. December. Twelfth. 1994.”
“Oh please, chicks. I had the flu.”
“You did not. That’s just a story your unconscious mind made up to keep you from being eternally embarrassed that a girl kicked your ass.”
“You didn’t kick my ass.”
“Did so.”
“Did not!”
“Did so.”
“Did not!”
“Did so— INFINITY!”
“DAMMIT!!”
Regan’s entire body ached from exhaustion. She sat in the empty studio, stretching her aching muscles. She’d stayed after to work on a sequence she was having trouble with but she could do no more. She’d been up since five that morning. She still hadn’t talked to Jeremy or Dr. Boland about her plans. She was nervous. She didn’t want Jeremy to have any time to find a replacement for her. If she was going to do this, she was going to at least get on that stage once as a member of ABT. She’d reconciled what the consequences of her actions might be, but the one thing she wasn’t willing to give up was the feeling of getting up on that stage with the rest of the American Ballet Theater Company. She wasn’t sure whether to just wait until the show’s run was over or not. For this moment all she was concerned with was working the knot out in her upper thigh.
“Need some help?”
She stiffed at the voice and looked up to she Jack’s form reflected in the mirrored walls. She immediately got to her feet and turned to face him.
“What are you doing here Jack?”
“I wanted to talk to you. I figured you’d be here like always,” he said, pushing himself from where he’d perched himself against the doorjamb.
“I really don’t think we have anything to talk about,” Regan shook her head. She didn’t know why the hair on the back of her neck was standing on edge until she remembered the look in her eyes the night of the party. She didn’t think there was anyone else in the building and that alone made her incredibly uncomfortable with the situation.
“But we do,” he said softly, making his way to her.
“Well,” she started trying desperately to conceal the quiver in her voice. “It’s late and I have to be here at six tomorrow. I really don't have time to talk.” She scooped up her bag and began to make her way to the door, which unfortunately stood behind Jack. He let her pass, but his voice was more chilling than the grasp of his hand could have been.
“Then I’ll see you later, baby.”
Regan didn’t look back at him and made her way out of the building as quickly as possible. She’d already decided not to tell Justin when she talked to him as she had been at 2 am for the past few nights. She didn’t want him to be worrying about something like this when he was all the way down in Atlanta. There wasn’t anything he could do but worry and that wasn’t something he needed when he was stressed about the tour to begin with.
When she got in the door, she found Finn, characteristically, watching Nick at Night on her couch. Finn had an eagle eye when it came to spotting Regan’s emotional states so after a brief hello, she retreated in the bathroom to pull herself together. Jack never had that effect on her before. Questioning his integrity was a far cry from questioning his stability but then again, he’d never shown her that look. She hoped to God this would just blow over. After washing her face, she collapsed into bed just in time for the phone to ring.