Tony De Luca's life was all about routine. From the moment he got up in the morning, until he went to bed at night. The ballet was not only his chosen career, but it was his life and his passion. The ballet came first; everything else came second. It had always been that way ever since he was seven.
Rosita De Luca had made sure it was that way. She had recognized the talent in her eldest from the time he was very young and had taken great pains to make sure it was carefully developed and nurtured. Tony had the best teachers, the best schools. It was only the best for her Tony. The remaining De Luca siblings grew up knowing that Tony would be a great dancer once day. They knew because Mama Rosita had said so.
Each of the siblings had chosen their own path; each of them had their own story to tell. Tony had chosen the ballet; Mataya, the theater; Theresa, motherhood; and Elena....Well, every family, it seemed, had an Elena. The troubled one. The one who could never quite get her life straightened out, no matter how hard she tried. There had been a time when Tony had tried to help, when he'd been there for all his sisters, but over time, the ballet had pulled him farther and farther away, until he rarely saw them at all anymore.
It was the unexpected phone call from his mother regarding Elena's latest exploit that was the straw that finally broke the camel's back, as it were. As much as he loved his family, he thought they had indulged Elena long enough. Her little indiscretions, as they had come to be called, had now placed the entire family in jeopardy, and despite Mama Rosita's pleas that he join them in Rhy'Din, he vehemently declined. He had no intentions on putting his life on hold just because Elena had made some bad choices. They were, after all, her choices, not his.
And so, Tony went about his life as usual, despite his mother's incessant worries. Months passed, and nothing untoward happened. Fall turned to winter. The holidays passed uneventfully. Times Square bid good-bye to the old year and rang in the new.
For Tony De Luca, life went on as usual; the show went on. Endless rehearsals and practice sessions, constantly working to hone his craft and that of those around him. Show after show after show. Collapsing into bed at night exhausted, only to awaken early the next morning and start all over again. This was the life of a premier danseur - constant work, constantly striving to attain perfection.
After a while, Tony became complacent. His sister's problems, after all, were not his own. He was too busy living his own life to notice the eyes that were watching his every move, the car that followed him home every night and to the studio every morning, the shadows that lurked in the night.
It wasn't until one fateful evening that his sister's problems came to call, setting in motion a chain of events that would change his life forever...
Rosita De Luca had made sure it was that way. She had recognized the talent in her eldest from the time he was very young and had taken great pains to make sure it was carefully developed and nurtured. Tony had the best teachers, the best schools. It was only the best for her Tony. The remaining De Luca siblings grew up knowing that Tony would be a great dancer once day. They knew because Mama Rosita had said so.
Each of the siblings had chosen their own path; each of them had their own story to tell. Tony had chosen the ballet; Mataya, the theater; Theresa, motherhood; and Elena....Well, every family, it seemed, had an Elena. The troubled one. The one who could never quite get her life straightened out, no matter how hard she tried. There had been a time when Tony had tried to help, when he'd been there for all his sisters, but over time, the ballet had pulled him farther and farther away, until he rarely saw them at all anymore.
It was the unexpected phone call from his mother regarding Elena's latest exploit that was the straw that finally broke the camel's back, as it were. As much as he loved his family, he thought they had indulged Elena long enough. Her little indiscretions, as they had come to be called, had now placed the entire family in jeopardy, and despite Mama Rosita's pleas that he join them in Rhy'Din, he vehemently declined. He had no intentions on putting his life on hold just because Elena had made some bad choices. They were, after all, her choices, not his.
And so, Tony went about his life as usual, despite his mother's incessant worries. Months passed, and nothing untoward happened. Fall turned to winter. The holidays passed uneventfully. Times Square bid good-bye to the old year and rang in the new.
For Tony De Luca, life went on as usual; the show went on. Endless rehearsals and practice sessions, constantly working to hone his craft and that of those around him. Show after show after show. Collapsing into bed at night exhausted, only to awaken early the next morning and start all over again. This was the life of a premier danseur - constant work, constantly striving to attain perfection.
After a while, Tony became complacent. His sister's problems, after all, were not his own. He was too busy living his own life to notice the eyes that were watching his every move, the car that followed him home every night and to the studio every morning, the shadows that lurked in the night.
It wasn't until one fateful evening that his sister's problems came to call, setting in motion a chain of events that would change his life forever...