Chapter Text
“Pointe shoes?” George asked, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. He knew what it was, Skeppy had already explained it to him plenty of times, and he had watched the female dancers glide along the floor effortlessly up on their tip toes but for some reason George still wasn’t quite able to wrap his brain around it. To him it looked foreign, unreal even.
But until now he had never given it much thought. It was just another thing here in the future that he didn’t understand and he just had to deal with, like those money spitting machines. And since en pointe dancing only seemed to be a requirement for female dancers he had even less reasons to lose sleep over it.
It looked good, of course, but it wasn’t for him. At least that’s what he had assumed.
“Yeah, this ballet is what inspired it after all,” Armando continued, his eyes seeming strangely focused as he spoke. “Charles Didelot had a vision of dancers flying over the stage. He mechanically lifted them up through these so-called flying machines but later on, throughout the centuries it became its own technique that more or less defines ballet now.”
Armando seemed passionate about the subject that in a way made it impossible for George not to admire it, but in the back of his mind there were those familiar alarms ringing. Dread involuntarily spread through his body as the teacher continued speaking.
“Flora is defined by this elegance with which she carries herself. She was made to dance en pointe.”
Of course she was. She was the goddess of flowers afterall, a female role design for female dancers that was performed with a technique that even in this open minded future was still reserved for female dancers.
And then there was George. A prince whose dancing was clearly not as light and elegant as he needed it to be. He wasn’t even sure what he was more offended by, the fact his dancing clearly wasn’t good enough for the role he was trying to portray or the fact Armando wanted to push yet another feminine thing on him.
“Your performance was great of course,” Armando hurried out when George didn’t say anything, probably noticing the discomfort forming on his face. “It was modern while still paying homage to the original but I just can’t help but feel like there is still something missing from it.”
George was used to hearing criticism. Being a prince had never spared him from it, although it might have rendered it a little nicer than the one given to his peers. But today in particular it still managed to sting more than he knew it should. He hadn’t been expecting it. For some reason he had thought that Dream and him would be able to blow Armando away, impressing him to the point of wordlessness but for some reason the compliments felt empty compared to the things Armando still didn’t consider perfect enough.
“I’ve never done it.” George finally answered the question he had been asked. “And I don’t think I want to either,” he added before Armando could open his mouth again.
Playing Flora wasn’t at all as bad as he had expected, he had learned to love it actually, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take this one more thing as well.
If he agreed to learn this new technique would Armanod insist on putting him in a dress for the actual show as well? Thea would wear trousers with her costume since she was playing Apollo and Skeppy would get stuck in a skirt as one of the nymphs. And although at first Armando had assured George he’d be allowed trousers, George was starting to feel like the other wasn’t above breaking promises.
“Why not?” Dream asked suddenly. “You’re a fast learner, and this might actually be the thing that is missing. Dancing en pointe completely changes the way you carry yourself. And considering that technique is what the choreography was built around, it will make the whole thing seem more natural.”
George’s brows drew together in a frown. “If you like it so much you do it,” George bit back, his voice not exactly mean but not exactly teasing either. “I’m already stuck in the girl part, at least let me dance it the way I want.”
Dream rolled his eyes, and faintly George saw the way some of their classmates did the same. They must think he was being difficult again, not just doing as he was told but instead finding yet another way to complain.
“You like the role,” Dream pointed out, and George truly couldn’t argue with that. “And for the record, I’d totally dance en point but if I was any taller than you it would really start looking ridiculous.”
George’s eyes snapped up to look at the blond, Armando speaking up again. “Oh that’s right, you know how to dance on point shoes, Dream,” he said, George’s eyes snapping to look at him too. “Maybe you could show George what it’s like, if you give it a try I’m sure you’d find enjoyment in it.”
“What?” George said, not quite following the conversation anymore. “But that’s for girls.” The words left him involuntarily. It was something he really did believe, but he knew it was rude to actually voice. Yet somehow they slipped out of him and he watched something strangely angry pass over Armando’s face.
“It’s not, not only at least,” Dream spoke up, maybe even to stop his father from doing so. “Traditionally sure, but anyone can go en pointe if they want to. The same way Thea can dance the part of Apollo perfectly even with only a few adjustments. But I understand if you don’t want to even try, going en pointe takes roughly three to five years.” Dream was trying to provoke him, to challenge him in order to wake that competitive spirit somewhere inside him.
And George had to admit that it was working.
But before he could accept the challenge, face it the same way he had approached learning a completely foreign choreography and lift in order to land this role, he hesitated. His mind got stuck on those last words; three to five years.
The showcase was in two weeks.
They were already running behind schedule. Practicing had taken longer than expected since Armando had so many little details he wanted to tweak, pushing everything else back. By next week they needed to have this dance down and finally start rehearsing in costume, not to mention getting some stage practice.
And although George was proud of his fast learning there was no way he’d be able to master a technique that normally took three to five years to get the hang off.
“Well, for experienced dancers they can learn it in as quickly as a year.” Armando threw into the conversation shrugging.
“I cannot learn that in a week though,” George pointed out the obvious, somehow feeling like he was the mad man here. What they were suggesting was insane.
“And no one is asking that of you, George,” Armando finally clarified, lazily placing both hands on his hip as his eyes focused on George. “Of course you won’t be able to dance the whole thing en pointe if you only start practicing now, but I’m convinced that you can at least get the hang of it enough to use it as a little accent piece. You can sprinkle it in there occasionally to add some flair.”
It was for sure an interesting suggestion, at least one worth considering.
“Your dancing is very traditional, adding the twist of pointe shoes could break it up a little. You want to become a ballet dancer after all, don’t you?” Armando suddenly asked, and George nodded without a second of hesitation. It was all he had ever dreamed of after all. “Exactly, there will be a lot of scouters at the performance and each one is looking for something unique. Maybe you won’t be fully en point but you could at least show them that you are open to learning it, and who knows, in two years you might have even already mastered it.”
Two years. It sounded much less daunting than five but George knew not to trust it. He knew how long two years could feel and he knew that he didn’t have the privilege of it. Two weeks was his remaining time, afterwards he’d jump through the first portal he saw and be gone again. Just like that.
Bad would change the online articles about him and burn the forged documents. With time everyone would have forgotten he had ever been there and the only memory of him will be that faint confusion about that strange guy that showed up unannounced and left again just as suddenly.
“I don’t have enough time to learn it.” The words once again slipped past his lips without his permission.
“Of course you do,” Armando rolled his eyes, the smile on his face signaling to George that he had no understanding of what position George was in. “You are young. You have the rest of the choreography down, it would be a full week of just training.”
“I can teach you,” Dream offered.
It was astonishing how much faith they seemed to have in him. One one hand it made him feel flattered, on the other he felt rather pressured however. “I don’t-” George wasn’t able to finish repeating his uncertainty about the whole thing before he was interrupted.
“Well it doesn’t matter, you can sleep on it for a night. We have all the time in the world,” Armando assured him, but it didn’t comfort George all that much. “That goes for all of you,” Armando then addressed the whole class again. “I know the deadline seems daunting but I assure you everything is going according to plan.”
“So the plan was to be two weeks behind?” Sapnap asked, as sarcastically as always. A few laughs went through the student body and George felt himself relax now that the attention was off him again.
“Everything is going as planned," Armando insisted again. “We won’t be able to practice on the actual stage in the Opera until next week anyways, so I urge all of you to use the time we have left wisely to sediment the choreography but also to relax. Overdoing it two weeks before show time is fatal.”
It was an important warning, one George wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow if he actually chose to go through with this whole pointe shoe thing.
“Alright,” Armando clapped his hands together, “Let’s take it from the top.”
Now that all parts of the play were practiced and well rehearsed the only thing was to put them together. Armando had them dancing through the story as a whole once just so each one could get an idea of the timing and how everything would roughly work.
It also allowed Armando to evaluate the general look of the whole show once. Some parts he wanted to adjust, some he praised excessively, and by the end of the day George was exhausted from not only dancing but simply being surrounded by so much movement.
He was used to the noise of a lot of people working together, running around, but it still managed to tire him out. Relieved was a soft way of putting what he felt when Armando finally announced the end of class.
“That was a lot,” Skeppy whispered to George as they grabbed their bags, “Even for Mr. Castillo over here.” He over pronounced the name in a way that made George chuckle.
“He keeps finding a way to outdo himself, “George agreed.
“At least we are still alive,” Sapnap said as he slung a hand over George’s shoulders, his voice much louder then neither Skeppy nor George would have wanted it to be. The last thing they needed was for Armando himself to hear their whispers. He would probably have them go again just for the sake of it.
George brushed him off as they left the studio as well as Armando’s hearing range. “Any plans for tonight?”
“Not really, I’m completely beat,” Sapnap told him as he rolled his shoulders to get some of the tension out of them. “I need something quick to eat and then I’m off to bed.”
“I think it will be the same for me,” Skeppy agreed.
“Same of what?” Dream asked as he finally joined their conversation as well.
“Going to bed and sleeping for twelve hours,” George answered, subsequently informing him about the plans of the others.
“And what about Thai food today?” Dream suddenly reminded them of the plans they had actually already made for tonight a while ago. He looked like he had already given up hope on actually getting it however as he watched Skeppy and Sapnap share a glance before Skeppy broke out in a yawn.
“I don’t know man, I really need some good sleep,” Skeppy told him between yawns. Sapnap didn't take long to agree with him as he nodded along. “But Gogy here doesn’t seem tired, the man got discipline injected into his bones,” Skeppy added as he started poking George in the side, forcing a burst of laughter out of him.
“Hey!” George complained as he tried to get away from him, jumping behind Dream to hide. And considering the blonds hide he made a good shield. Sapnap was laughing hysterically at the scene unfolding while Dream looked more confused than anything while Skeppy continued trying to reach George.
It was absolutely ridiculous, but it’s what made the laughter bubbling out of George feel all the more joyful. Little moments like that reminded him how much he actually loved the people he had met here, but just as always every good thing must come to an end.
And for George it came in the form of that ever present reminder that nothing lasted forever.
“Alright,” Sapnap breathed deeply to calm himself again. “I’m actually heading to bed, I’m completely dead.” It was something no one of them could argue against, even though George didn’t want to part ways already. Soon enough he’d be gone completely, so until then he wanted to experience friendship like this to its fullest. He didn’t want to allow sleep to be the limiting factor here.
“Come on, whatever junk you have in your room can never be better than proper Thai food,” George decided to argue against Sapnap’s decision even though he knew he probably shouldn’t. Especially considering he didn’t even know what Thai food was.
“That’s what I always tell him too,” Dream chimed in again. “That junk right before bed won’t do you any good.”
Sapnap looked at least conflicted, but in the end there was no way of changing his mind. “You two can go out to eat, but I really can not walk another mile.” With that Sapnap’s decision was finalized.
“Same for me,” Skeppy didn’t take long to follow his lead. “But you two can definitely go, if it turns out to be any good we'll go again some time soon.” Soon. It was so easy for Skeppy to say but George knew that soon wouldn’t exist soon anymore. The deadline looming over him became ever more present in the forefront of George’s mind.
“Okay, so just the two of us once again?” Dream suddenly asked and George felt like his voice snapped him back to the present moment.
George realized that he was still standing behind Dream, his hands almost subconsciously clinging to the back of his shirt still from where he had used him as a shield and without a second to think about it George quickly let go again as he jumped to the side. The thing Dream had said only slowly registered with him.
“I don’t know,” he started slowly to give himself enough time to come up with an answer, finding it impossibly hard to make a decision. “Maybe it’d be better to call it a night.”
Dream looked disappointed to say the least, but he didn’t seem like he was in the mood to argue about it, he must have been just as tired as the rest of them after all. “Alright then, sleep it is.”
“We can go tomorrow!” George quickly added just because he didn’t like the idea of Dream going to bed disappointed. It managed to pull a small smile onto the others lips.
“We’ll see,” he half agreed.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sapnap teased him, “We’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Dream, causing a faint pink colour to rise to the blonde face and George wasn’t sure what it could mean.
“Alright, good night then,” Skeppy laughed at the antics between the other two before his eyes landed on George again, a silent nod inviting him to go back to their room. George agreed with a silent nod of his own, but before he could get far he felt a hand grab his wrist.
The touch was soft, barely even present but George knew that warmth could never go unnoticed and so he turned around again to find Dream standing right there behind him. There was something almost guarded about his expression as he looked down at George.
“I meant it,” he eventually said, the hold of his hand ever so softly sliding down slightly to hold George closer to the palm of his hand. It became even lighter than before, as if Dream was scared to actually commit to the action.
“Meant what?” George asked, finding himself whispering into the space between them. He knew whatever this was about he wouldn’t care if either Skeppy or Sapnap ended up over hearing it, but for some reason his voice refused to come out any louder.
“About teaching you,” Dream explained. “Whenever you feel ready I’ll show you the basics. There is no rush of course, and if you really don’t want to you don’t have to, but I think it would end up like the lift.”
“What do you mean?” George brows frowned together slightly, unsure of what the other meant anymore. All the while he grew tired of only the hint of a touch. So instead he took it into his own hands to grab Dream’s properly, fitting their palms together in a way that felt both unfamiliar and completely natural.
It seemed to catch Dream off guard as his eyes snapped to look down momentarily, his thoughts clearly taking a second to flood back into his brain afterwards.
“You said the lift was too difficult at first too, but we ended up managing. And it looked amazing.” That was true, it had looked so amazing that Armando had barely given them any notes on it. And George had to agree once again, after pushing through the first discomfort of the unfamiliar it had turned out not to be all that bad after all.
“I guess,” he said as he thought it over.
“Like I said, only if you want to. Going en point is a whole other thing then you are used to so I’d understand if you simply don’t want to,” Dream sounded genuine as he said it, his voice quiet now as well.
“I’ll think about it,” George finally decided. Sleeping on it for a night would give him some much needed clarity on the matter. Although he couldn’t help but feel like he had already made a decision. Two weeks was not enough time to get sucked into something new like this.
Dream didn’t argue further, instead he gave George's hand one last quick squeeze before letting go fully again. “Have nice dreams,” he told him, the smirk on his face far too proud while George just rolled his eyes.
“You too.” With that George turned around again and made his way to the dorm room, Skeppy falling into step beside him.
“You two sure are getting along,” he said casually.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” George questioned. He had a vague idea of what Skeppy might be trying to say but he didn’t want his thoughts to wander towards that untreated territory.
“Nothing,” Skeppy shrugged innocently, a knowing look on his face as he opened their door.
George dropped the subject again as he slipped inside, both getting started on going through the motions of getting ready for bed almost wordlessly. It was a clear indication that Skeppy was actually tired and so George didn’t want to bother him with his racing thoughts. And they sure were racing.
There was a lot on his mind but he didn’t feel like he had the energy to go find Bad and talk to him about it either, and so instead he had no other option than to fall into bed and hope sleep would rescue him.
After exhausting days like today it usually wasn’t a problem falling asleep, but today in particular his mind and body alike were seeming to taunt him. His brain felt wide awake, racing with possibilities of what could happen if he took Dream up on his offer as well as what it would be like to refuse. It could either work out great or leave him feeling even more helpless once the time to leave again came. And although his body felt exhausted from practice it was buzzing with a nervousness all over.
The heat from Dream’s hand had seemingly spread through his whole body, leaving him feeling uncomfortably warm even as he kicked off the blanket. And although the rush of cold air brought him some relief it also left him feeling uncomfortably exposed to the dark room.
George fought with the blanket, turning and twisting as he tried to find the perfect middle ground between hot and cold. But in the end it was futile. His mind wasn’t giving up to the thread of sleep either anyways.
He should have been long asleep, but instead George found himself reaching out to grab the phone that still didn’t truly feel like his. The screen was impossibly bright as it came to life and George quickly tried to make it darker, struggling to find the right combination of taps and swipes to actually activate that.
Once he had, however, he found a familiar app, his finger clicking onto Dream’s contact.
Dream,
are you still awake?
George was still not sure about these instant messages. Skeppy had told him that it was the most informal way of sharing information and there was no need to use punctuation or even proper spelling. But that didn’t come naturally to George, and although the others had teased him about his ‘too proper’ texting style, as they put it, he refused to change it.
Yes
R u also having trouble sleeping?
Dream’s answer didn’t take long to arrive, almost even startling George. Knowing Dream was having the same problem as him comforted him and he couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as he tipped out his next message.
Very much. Could you show me that technique after all?
The message was risky, George knew that, deep within him he was scared of the answer he knew he’d receive. But for once he didn’t care, he didn’t run from it and instead welcomed the answer that came through just a moment later.
Of course!
Now?
Dream’s recklessness had a way of complementing George’s. And he found himself already climbing out of bed before sending a final message.
Now.
He made sure to be quiet as he sneaked out of the room, not caring to change at all. His bare feet made walking along the cold wooden floor uncomfortable but he didn’t have the mind to care. As silently as possible he made his way down the hall, not taking long to run into Dream.
Unlike George who was wearing a matching set of proper pyjamas Dream was wearing sweatpants similar to the ones they all wore for practice, just that they were green instead of gray, and a simple white shirt. As well as a pair of socks that George was quickly growing envious of, but he wasn’t about to go back to his room and risk waking Skeppy.
“You know this is crazy right?” Dream asked as they fell into step next to each other. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know,” George couldn’t help but smile. He knew that he wasn’t a particularly rebellious person, not by the conventional standards, but he had to admit he was enjoying this more than he had expected. It was exciting. “Armando is expecting me to get this in one week, we’ll have to pull a few all nighters.”
Dream rolled his eyes. “You're the boss.”
George couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of him, but his laughter ended abruptly as Dream pulled him by the arm in a different direction than the studio he had been heading towards. “Huh?”
“To learn how to dance with pointe shoes we first have to get you pointe shoes,” Dream informed him and George felt his face heating up slightly, he hadn’t even thought about that.
“And where do I get those?” He asked, even though he was sure Dream was already leading them towards the answer.
“I happen to know a place,” Dream informed him and it didn’t take long for them to stop in front of a door George had never noticed before. It was completely ordinary looking and even with the lack of light he could tell it led into a storage room of some kind. “I used to help out here pretty often,” Dream told him as he stood up on his tip toes and reached up to the top of the doorframe, retrieving a key.
“And you are allowed in here?” George asked cautiously as Dream unblocked the door, suddenly feeling the slightest bit of uncertainty about this whole rebel thing he had going on. Staying up past curfew was fine, but literally breaking in somewhere felt like a little much.
“Don’t worry so much, it’s all good,” Dream assured him, and although George wanted to continue arguing he found any words dying on his tongue as Dream pulled open the door and found the light switch.
Turns out it was a storage room, but it was much larger than George would have ever assumed. Inside were endless shelves filled with hundreds if not thousands of shoes.
“Wow,” George couldn’t help but be astonished as he stepped inside, his eyes wandering over the shelves. They were tall, each space filled with shoes and labeled with numbers and letters.
“I get it, I was just as amazed the first time I came here,” Dream told him. George’s eyes snapped back to look at him and he found him standing there, leaning against the doorframe with an expression far too soft to be directed at the shoes. Dream’s expression had something almost nostalgic about it, as if he was actively remembering the first time he had stepped in here.
“And you’re sure we’ll find something for me in here?” George found himself asking as his eyes returned to the shelves. The selection was certainly large, but also overwhelming. There must be so many different kinds of pointed shoes and George didn’t know anything about them.
Curiously he found himself taking a shoe out of the shelf, inspecting it and turning it over in his hand. It was a soft pink and felt surprisingly firm in his hand, nothing like the slippers he was used to training in. But what stood out to him more was that it was small, unsurprising considering it was a women's shoe but he just hoped something in here would fit him.
“Don’t worry,” Dream assured him, as if able to read his thoughts just by looking at him. “There are bigger shoes as well.” Carefully Dream took the shoe out of his hand and pleased it back in its place before starting to lead the way further into the room.
George’s eyes continued scanning over the shelves, finding that they truly looked endless. Eventually Dream turned into one, and George found himself scrambling to follow before almost running into the blond as he came to a sudden stop. “What’s your shoe size?” Dream asked, concentratingly scanning over the shelves.
“Ehm,” George started but found he actually didn’t have an answer. All the shoes he had ever worn had been custom made after all.
“Probably like a 42, in European measurements, or something like that,” Dream answered his own question. George wasn’t given any time to react to it as Dream pulled out a shoe from an upper shelf and grabbed George’s arm, measuring it against his forearm. “Probably one larger actually,” Dream said to himself before putting the shoe back and dropping George’s arm again.
Dream sure looked like he knew what he was doing, a kind of routine noticeable in the way his eyes scanned over the shelves but it didn’t make George understand what was going on any more.
“Here we go, point shoes size 43,” Dream cheered, pulling multiple pairs of shoes off different shelves. “Try these ones on first and we’ll then go from there,” Dream told him, handing over three pairs.
George was more than just overwhelmed, his arms filled with dusty pink shoes he had never seen before and as embarrassing as it sounded he wasn’t even sure how to try them on. Dream seemed to notice his hesitation, seemingly remembering that all this was new to George and quickly took back the shoes.
“Or how about I put them on you and you tell me how it feels?” Dream suggested instead.
“That sounds good,” George agreed, relieved.
The smile on Dream’s face allowed him to relax slightly as he watched Dream crouch down onto his knees, dropping the shoes to the side before picking up just one again and grabbing George’s ankle carefully.
“You can hold on to the shelf if you want,” Dream told him and George did just that while Dream’s hand momentarily brushed over his foot, tickling him just the slightest bit.
“Don’t curl your toes but tense up your foot, like that,” Dream instructed him and nodded happily when George did it right, but George was still struggling to follow what exactly they were doing.
But then Dream slipped a shoe onto his foot, George finally understanding the position he needed to get his fit into as he melted into the form of the shoe. It felt strange to say the least. And something about it was also strangely intimate as he felt both of Dream’s hands wrap around the base of his foot, checking how it fit.
“Feels a little tight,” George said as he paid attention to how it felt and he saw Dream nodding, seeming deep in thought.
“You need a wider platform and a slightly shorter shank I think,” Dream agreed with him, or at least George thought so as Dream slipped the shoe off again and put the other pairs he had gotten back in their place as well in favour of finding a few different ones.
They played that game a few times, with Dream slipping shoes onto George’s foot and allowing him to feel it out until eventually they found the perfect fit. George tried both the right and the left, making sure it fit snuggly and worked with his natural footshape well before they ultimately decided on the dusty pink pair.
To George it looked the same as every other pair had, but it certainly felt different. And Dream seemed able to actually see the difference too, going on about a box and a vamp and George had long tried understanding it. Instead he just accepted that these shoes fit them.
“That wasn’t so hard,” Dream said pleased as he finished putting the last pair of shoes away that hadn’t ended up fitting.
“Guess not,” George agreed. The shoes felt strangely stiff, but the sturdy box at their tip made him feel like he’d actually be able to stand on his tip toes. Curiously he tried it.
“Careful!” Dream called out just as George realized it wasn’t as easy as he had thought it would be, losing his balance almost instantly as the only thing stopping him from tumbling to the ground were Dream's arms wrapping around him. “You can seriously hurt yourself doing that,” Dream scolded him as George found back onto his flat feet again, the shoes still not feeling like he’d actually be able to dance in them.
“Sorry,” George apologised sheepishly.
“It’s alright, I’ll teach you soon enough, but first you need to break in the shoes.” Dream moved to kneel on the ground once more, with smooth motions slipping the shoes off George’s feet again before changing to sit crosslegged, George finding himself mirroring the motion as he sat down opposite to him.
“Break them in?” George asked curiously. As strange and unusual all this was, he was finding himself with a strange thirst for knowledge. He actually wanted to know how these things worked. Dream seemed to sense his curiosity and it made him smile amusedly as he handed one shoe to George while keeping the other for himself.
“It’s incredibly important to make sure you don’t hurt yourself while dancing. This is the way I learned to do it, but over time you’ll find your own personal routine for it, trust me.” Dream spoke while he laid down the shoe on the floor between them, carefully pressing down on the tip of it. “Bend the box carefully to relax it a bit, but not too much or you’ll lose the support,” Dream explained and George started mirroring the motion.
It felt completely counter intuitive. The shoes were completely new, not even worn properly once yet they were already starting to wreck them. But considering how many shoes they were surrounded by, George found himself having less inhibitions as he felt the firm box bend under the weight he put on it.
“Next, bend the shank, that’s like the sole part. I always preferred to break it but for the start you should probably keep it whole just to get a feel for the shoe.” George mirrored all of Dream’s actions closely. And with each bent he felt like he was getting a better understanding of the way the shoe was made.
“And another important thing to do so it beats out the noise,” Dream said, a moment later starting to knock the shoe against the floor. The bending and breaking had still sounded understandable, but suddenly George felt like the other was trying to make fun of him.
“You have to be kidding,” George said, but Dream didn’t stop.
“I’m not, otherwise it will be very loud when you dance and especially when you do jumps.” Dream looked genuine, and as he continued George noticed that the noise actually became less. “You do it with that shoe too, and afterwards put them back on and move a little with them. Whatever feels natural but don’t try standing on your toes again,” Dream told him as he stood up. “I’m going to get some ribbons and a sewing kit.”
George did as he was told. Beating out the noise and once he was satisfied with his work he put them back on before switching how weight around between in leg, breaking them in further and finding that they were actually a lot more comfortable to wear like this.
“And what exactly is the ribbon for?” George asked as Dream came back again, scissors, needle, thread and ribbon in hand.
“To tie them of course, give me one again,” Dream instructed and they sat down opposite each other again. Just that this time around Dream scored over closer. “Just copy what I do.”
It was definitely easier said than done as Dream started sowing on a ribbon at the side of the pointe shoe, fusing the two pieces of fabric together so easily that it left George impressed. He would have never thought that Dream had this side to him.
“How come you know how to do this?” George found himself asking suddenly when Dream had taken over finishing up his started attempt at sowing.
“I told you how my grandmother was the one to teach me ballet, right?” Dream said and George nodded, though the other probably didn’t even see it with the way his eyes were fully focused on the task he was doing. Every stitch was made with so much care. Dream pulled the needle through the fabric like there was nothing in the world that deserved his attention more than these simple shoes.
“Well, she was a big fan of point shoes. To her it was the essence of ballet. That’s why she only ever taught girls, so she’d get to teach pointe work as well. But for me she made an exception, teaching it to me even though it wasn’t intended for boys to know. At least back then,” Dream added, finishing up the sowing and carefully tying a knot before cutting the excess thread.
“Done?” George asked, excitement rising inside him. This whole process had taken way longer than he had expected it
“Yes, try them on again,” Dream handed them over and George slipped them on immediately. Maybe it was having to wait so long for them but the thought of not wanting to learn dancing with pointe shoes went completely forgotten, just as any tiredness that had still lingered in his mind.
“What about-” George started as he stood up, two long ribbons now hanging off either side of the shoes that he was sure didn’t belong like that.
“There are different ways to tie them, if you want I’ll teach you some time but for now let’s focus on getting you to actually stand,” Dream said as he grabbed the ribbons, looping them around George's ankles before tying them off with a kind of speed that once again impressed George. He actually knew how to do this.
“Alright, stand up straight and make sure to keep shoulders, hips and ankles in a straight line,” Dream instructed and George did as he was told. “And then carefully try standing up on your tip toes. Don’t curl or bend them, the box should give you enough support to stand.”
Two hands found their way around George’s waist, resting there to provide stability but not raising him up. Instead Dream allowed George to bow at his own pace, and after taking a few deep breaths George tried standing up on his tip toes.
With Dream’s hands holding him it was easier keeping the position, and the shoes really did provide the needed support to keep him upright but it still all felt so strangely unfamiliar.
“You're doing well,” Dream told him, taking a step backwards while still keeping his hands on George’s waist and the Brit understood that he was meant to take a step forward. Cautiously he did.
“And people actually dance like this?” He asked, already struggling with just taking a single step.
“They do,” Dream confirmed. “Hold the tension in your body. I promise it’ll become less strange with time.”
Finally Dream looked up, taking his eyes off George’s shoes in favour of meeting his eyes and to his delight George noticed that standing on his tip toes actually made him a great bit taller. Still not tall enough to see the top of Dream’s head but at least tall enough to look him in the eyes straight on.
In that moment Dream seemed to notice the same as a chuckle made its way past his lips as he rolled his eyes without George even having to say anything.
“I hope our similar height won’t make the choreography look ridiculous,” George said, mocking what Dream used to say when he had wanted to switch their roles.
“Come on now, I’m still taller.” As if to prove his point Dream stood up even straighter, and sure enough it did add a few more centimeters to his height.
It was annoying, but at the same time George couldn’t be upset by it when he noticed just how closely they were standing to each other. Dream’s hands were still resting around his hips while George's hands had found a place on the others shoulders. It was almost domestic.
George dropped back to his soles as the thought passed through his mind, Dream’s hands tightening around him seemingly thinking he had fallen.
“You good?” He asked, and the added pressure around George made blood rise to his checks.
“Yeah, it just- it hurts staying like that for long,” George tried to explain, Dream’s hand sliding off his body again now that he was standing on solid ground again. Silently George mourned the loss of contact as he pulled his arms away as well.
“Beauty is pain,” Dream said, almost whispering it as if he hadn’t even meant to let the words slip out. George had heard him say that before, and he felt like he was finally understanding what they really meant.
“The more you use them the more you’ll break them in, there will be a point where they feel perfect, and right afterwards they’ll be too worn out and you’ll have to get new ones and break them in all over again,” Dream then said, seemingly trying to get his thoughts back on track.
“And how often will that be?” George asked as he admired the pink shoes.
“Depends, these ones will probably last you for the duration of next week while you practice. But professionals typically get new ones for each performance.”
“What?” That sounded outrageous and George found himself starting down at the shoes with a new kind of dread. “I have to go through all that every time I go on stage?” George asked.
“Yeah, basically. You’ll find a system for it, and for most prima ballerinas it’s a personal little ritual before going on stage,” Dream told him. “If you want I’ll help you again,” he then offered. It sounded like it had been meant as a joke, but there was a genuine offer hidden between the green of Dream’s eyes.
One George knew he wanted to take him up on as often as possible, even if just to get to sit on the floor banging shoes on the hard ground again. With Dream even the strangest things were made enjoyable. And just two more weeks of that was definitely not enough time.