"Hey," Andy placed a hand on Katarina's shoulder to pause her quickened movements. The entire practice room was in motion with rehearsal ending. The January month was over and much to Katarina's surprise, rehearsals continued and the ballet moved as if a hitch never occurred. A new leadership of board members and patrons had assembled over the past few weeks, and the ballet suddenly had a director and a choreographer in addition to Madame. Currently, she was having a difficult time thinking about all of the changes. Instead she was trying to throw all of her stuff together and reach her first destination: home. Andy was trying to get a word in, "Crazy stuff, huh? Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, whatever." She didn't even try to cover up her lie. She watched Leo exit the room and nearly stamped a foot in frustration. He was the only person she had wanted to vent to and now he was walking away.
"Look, I know it's not easy, but-"
"Really Andy, I don't want to talk about it." She heard the anger and crisp words in her voice, and tried to relax, "It's ova, an' I jist wan'ta mov' 'n an' I dun wan'ta talk 'bout it."
Andy's face was doubtful, but instead he reached down to grab her bag for her and held it out, "If you say so. At least your friend - what's his name - Jolyon, is on the board? That must be something."
"Yep, sure is. He's good people." The words were automatic and things her brain didn't need to think about as she reached out and snatched her bag from Andy, "Kin we talk tomorrow? I jist.. I jist wan' ta go home."
"Yeah, allright. You call me if you need to?"
Katarina waved off his concern as her strong strides took her out of the rehearsal room and out of the theatre. Each step took her a step away from her point of anger, but it didn't seem to help. Instead she felt her bottled anger elevate grow and bring a red haze to her vision all the way home. If it wasn't for her exquisite control over her feelings, she probably would have jammed her key into the door and yanked the door so hard that it hurt her arm. Instead she made sure to do no such thing and closed the door quietly behind her.
Locke wasn't home, and it was exactly what she wanted and didn't want. She dropped her bag near the door and didn't bother to put things away. Instead she made a beeline for her previous bedroom and stripped her clothing off. She could feel the rage bubbling as she yanked her tights so hard that she heard popping noises - she didn't care. The leotard, tights, and flats were replaced with an old black shirt and stretchy leggings that she used to wear when it was particularly cold. It took a few minutes of digging, but she finally found an ancient pair of sneakers and hastily put them on. With that complete, she nearly stomped her way to Locke's room and would have rummaged through his closest if she wasn't respectful of his things. Still, she felt her control slipping and once she found what she was looking for, was quick to head down the stairs and out of her house. She pulled the sweater over her head that read "Universitas Magicas" and found that it was just a touch short in the arms.
Taking a deep breath, she turned her nanites off. It was freezing outside, and her attire was hardly adequate. Still, she stood there for several moments, and then started to run.
Katarina didn't run often, if ever. In fact, she didn't enjoy the exercise at all. A ballerina's body nearly always had something that was aching, and running brought all of those aches and pains into a new light. The constant impact was uncomfortable on her knees and it just made its way up her body. The anger that she had kept bottled through most of the day had built in such a way that Katarina didn't know how to release it. She didn't want to stay at the theatre, and she never participated in the catharsis of hitting something. Usually she danced, but she knew that Locke would run, and it seemed to work for him. Maybe his usual running sweater in the summer months would help.
She didn't have a particular destination in mind. She was more focused on wearing her body to exhaustion. She watched her breath come out in puffs and felt the pain begin in her shoulders. She focused on that pain instead of her anger. Her feet kept moving as her brain battled with the focus of her thoughts. There was no track of time and the only difference made was the gradual change of her location. She remained along the shoreline for a while before she nearly collapsed on a bench. Her muscled twitched in pain and her body felt on fire. It was then that she slouched her posture and placed her hands gently over her face.
Christophe had been killed in jail while waiting for his sentencing, and Alik had managed to hop a boat off-world. The lack of resolution and the abrupt ending to the chaos had been a shock at the beginning. Over the hours of the day, the shock turned into anger. Angry that the justice for Christophe had come too soon. Katarina wanted to be there, wanted him to know how much she loathed him for the trouble and fear he put her through. The experience in his office had been downright traumatic. She freaked at the sight of a pistol and squirmed with any talks of guns. She couldn't help it - all she could think about is having that blaster pointed at her chest. It brought a perception of weakness that she hadn't felt since Caleb had died.
Katarina had already informed her contacts about Alik's behavior. She was still unclear about everything that he had done to her, and all of the ways that she had been manipulated. She sent police reports and her own notices to every person in every ballet company and troupe that she could contact. Word would spread, and she knew that he would never dance professionally again. It wasn't enough. He was getting away.
She stayed at that bench until her body heat cooled and she felt the chill from the winter weather, until she was shivering. She didn't feel like she had the energy to run back, but she forced her body to move. She would push her body so hard that she didn't have the capacity to think about anything else.
"Yeah, whatever." She didn't even try to cover up her lie. She watched Leo exit the room and nearly stamped a foot in frustration. He was the only person she had wanted to vent to and now he was walking away.
"Look, I know it's not easy, but-"
"Really Andy, I don't want to talk about it." She heard the anger and crisp words in her voice, and tried to relax, "It's ova, an' I jist wan'ta mov' 'n an' I dun wan'ta talk 'bout it."
Andy's face was doubtful, but instead he reached down to grab her bag for her and held it out, "If you say so. At least your friend - what's his name - Jolyon, is on the board? That must be something."
"Yep, sure is. He's good people." The words were automatic and things her brain didn't need to think about as she reached out and snatched her bag from Andy, "Kin we talk tomorrow? I jist.. I jist wan' ta go home."
"Yeah, allright. You call me if you need to?"
Katarina waved off his concern as her strong strides took her out of the rehearsal room and out of the theatre. Each step took her a step away from her point of anger, but it didn't seem to help. Instead she felt her bottled anger elevate grow and bring a red haze to her vision all the way home. If it wasn't for her exquisite control over her feelings, she probably would have jammed her key into the door and yanked the door so hard that it hurt her arm. Instead she made sure to do no such thing and closed the door quietly behind her.
Locke wasn't home, and it was exactly what she wanted and didn't want. She dropped her bag near the door and didn't bother to put things away. Instead she made a beeline for her previous bedroom and stripped her clothing off. She could feel the rage bubbling as she yanked her tights so hard that she heard popping noises - she didn't care. The leotard, tights, and flats were replaced with an old black shirt and stretchy leggings that she used to wear when it was particularly cold. It took a few minutes of digging, but she finally found an ancient pair of sneakers and hastily put them on. With that complete, she nearly stomped her way to Locke's room and would have rummaged through his closest if she wasn't respectful of his things. Still, she felt her control slipping and once she found what she was looking for, was quick to head down the stairs and out of her house. She pulled the sweater over her head that read "Universitas Magicas" and found that it was just a touch short in the arms.
Taking a deep breath, she turned her nanites off. It was freezing outside, and her attire was hardly adequate. Still, she stood there for several moments, and then started to run.
Katarina didn't run often, if ever. In fact, she didn't enjoy the exercise at all. A ballerina's body nearly always had something that was aching, and running brought all of those aches and pains into a new light. The constant impact was uncomfortable on her knees and it just made its way up her body. The anger that she had kept bottled through most of the day had built in such a way that Katarina didn't know how to release it. She didn't want to stay at the theatre, and she never participated in the catharsis of hitting something. Usually she danced, but she knew that Locke would run, and it seemed to work for him. Maybe his usual running sweater in the summer months would help.
She didn't have a particular destination in mind. She was more focused on wearing her body to exhaustion. She watched her breath come out in puffs and felt the pain begin in her shoulders. She focused on that pain instead of her anger. Her feet kept moving as her brain battled with the focus of her thoughts. There was no track of time and the only difference made was the gradual change of her location. She remained along the shoreline for a while before she nearly collapsed on a bench. Her muscled twitched in pain and her body felt on fire. It was then that she slouched her posture and placed her hands gently over her face.
Christophe had been killed in jail while waiting for his sentencing, and Alik had managed to hop a boat off-world. The lack of resolution and the abrupt ending to the chaos had been a shock at the beginning. Over the hours of the day, the shock turned into anger. Angry that the justice for Christophe had come too soon. Katarina wanted to be there, wanted him to know how much she loathed him for the trouble and fear he put her through. The experience in his office had been downright traumatic. She freaked at the sight of a pistol and squirmed with any talks of guns. She couldn't help it - all she could think about is having that blaster pointed at her chest. It brought a perception of weakness that she hadn't felt since Caleb had died.
Katarina had already informed her contacts about Alik's behavior. She was still unclear about everything that he had done to her, and all of the ways that she had been manipulated. She sent police reports and her own notices to every person in every ballet company and troupe that she could contact. Word would spread, and she knew that he would never dance professionally again. It wasn't enough. He was getting away.
She stayed at that bench until her body heat cooled and she felt the chill from the winter weather, until she was shivering. She didn't feel like she had the energy to run back, but she forced her body to move. She would push her body so hard that she didn't have the capacity to think about anything else.