For Lily

[itwas_perfect]

She found herself, panting outside an apartment door, not knowing whose it was or how she'd gotten there.

There was blood on her hands, under her nails, and she dragged in a breath. A sob. Let it out in a stuttering whoosh, and took stock of herself. She was shivering, her gym bag slung over one shoulder, and she still wore her leotard. So, she'd been at the studio, which wasn't unexpected, but she'd left. She'd left in a hurry. She wasn't wearing a coat. She'd gone all this way in the cold with no coat. Had she ridden the subway?

She caught a fragment of memory, a whisper, a face obscured in the mirror, and suddenly, the last hours began to fall into place. She'd been alone in her dressing room, unlacing her dance shoes and pulling on her fleece boots, when she'd heard someone in the hall. It was late, and she'd been sure she was the last girl in the studio, but she swore she heard someone whispering. Someone crying.

"Hello?" she'd called, poking her head out into the empty, darkened hallway. She'd heard nothing in return but the echo of her own voice.

Frowning, she'd shut the door and seated herself in front of the dressing mirror, her own worried face looking back at her. Her face, anxious and flushed from practice, but hers and no one else's. But then... Then, it had gotten very cold. Very cold and... And she could hear music playing. The distant strains of "The Young Juliet" from Prokofiev's ballet. Breath caught in her throat, she'd begun to gather her things, forgetting that she hadn't finished gotting dressed, her breath hanging in brief clouds in front of her face.

It was so cold. So cold that the mirror began to freeze, little spider web threads of ice creeping along the edges. Fumbling, she'd dropped her makeup case, upending it onto the floor, and bending to pick it up, she'd heard a rattling breath above her. She sat abruptly, catching her forehead on the edge of the dressing table, light bursting briefly in front of her eyes. When her vision swam back into focus, there was someone... someone, a girl, looking at her in the mirror. Pale. So pale, like death, rage twisting her thin face, her eyes a deep, black nothing.

With a horrified sob, Nina tore open the door and clawed her way out of the room, running as hard as her thin legs would carry her, she hadn't stopped running, and now, she stood outside Lily's apartment, disheveled and trembling. As the memory of that haunted face in the mirror came back to her, she practically threw herself at the door, pounding on it and calling, frantically, "Lily, let me in!"

Comments

[notfaking_it]

It wasn't so late that Lily was asleep, but late enough that the sudden banging at her apartment door startled her. She had a mug of tea in her hands and the hot liquid sloshed over the side, spilling on the carpet in her living room when she turned to look at the door, eyebrows drawn together for a moment before she heard Nina calling for her through the door.

"Jesus," she muttered, setting the mug down on the coffee table before she crossed to her door and unlocked it, holding it open for Nina to come inside. Something was obviously wrong, something had happened, and she stepped back to let Nina in before she even asked. It wasn't fair, maybe, but she couldn't help but think of the film she'd seen while still on the island and she found herself wondering if something like that was happening to Nina again. She wanted to believe she'd do something different this time around, if that were the case, but she didn't know what that might be.

[itwas_perfect]

She burst into the apartment, feeling relief so acute and dizzying that she found herself shaking with it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't know where else to go, I... I needed to." Her lips quivered and she buried her face in her hands, her fingers still stained with blood.

[notfaking_it]

"Jesus, Nina, what the hell happened?" she asked, catching sight of the blood on her fingers. She reached out, catching one of Nina's hands to look at it for a moment, then tugged her toward the kitchen sink. "Come here, you've got blood on your hands."

[itwas_perfect]

"It's... it's just a scratch. I think I... Maybe there was glass, I don't remember," she panted, swallowing down a sob and letting Lily drag her toward the kitchen.

"There's someone following me. They're after me, and I know-- I know I've said that before, but you don't understand. They..." She sobbed, then, pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead, trying her best to push the image of that girl from her mind.

[notfaking_it]

Nina was right, Lily had heard this before. She said nothing at first, instead leading Nina over to the sink where she turned on the water, letting it run until it was warm, then pulled Nina's hands under the stream.

She'd heard this before and she'd brushed it off and she knew where that could lead. Even with Nina here again, alive and warm, she felt guilty over what had happened.

"Have you told anyone else?" she asked. "The police or..." Or a doctor.

[itwas_perfect]

"I... I called last week. I thought someone was following me home, but the police didn't find anyone. They can't do anything unless..."

Unless the girl showed herself. Unless she actually threatened or hurt Nina, in some way. Which she hadn't. She was just there, following her, looking at her, wherever Nina went.

"They told me to keep in touch. It's... they think I'm crazy, so it doesn't even matter."

[notfaking_it]

Lily looked down at the running water, wiping the blood from Nina's fingers as she considered what she was saying. The police wouldn't do something unless there was a good reason to, she knew that it would take something huge for them to actually consider this a threat to Nina.

And Lily hated herself a little for it, but she had to wonder if there was anything happening at all.

"What did they look like?" she asked, turning off the water a moment later and grabbing a towel to give to Nina. "Have you seen them around the studio?"

[itwas_perfect]

"It... was a girl. Our age, maybe? Dark hair, pale skin... Dark eyes, I think. I can... I can never really get a good look at them," she admitted, knowing how ludicrous it sounded. "I've never seen her before. She's... she's not a dancer with the company."

[notfaking_it]

"But does she hang around the studio ever? Is she some creepy fan?" That sort of thing happened, she'd seen it before. People who got overly invested in the stories, people who followed the dancers around, wanting more of them, wanting something personal.

Then she asked, "Where did the blood come from?"

[itwas_perfect]

"I-I don't know. Maybe? I've seen her there. And on the subway... and on the street outside the apartment. And that night, at the New Years Eve party. She's always kept her distance, before, so I thought maybe she was just... I don't know."

She looked down at her hands, the ragged cuts on her fingertips. "I... I think I broke something, back at the studio. Maybe my compact, I don't... God, I don't remember."

[notfaking_it]

"It's fine," Lily said, leading Nina toward the living room again to sit her down on the couch. "Can you point her out to me next time you see her? Maybe the police will listen to you if you've got someone backing you up." She didn't want to listen to the part of herself that was saying Nina was imagining it. Or worse, that she was just making it up.

And maybe, given a week or so, Lily might be able to talk her into seeing a doctor. Another person, another time, she might have just turned a blind eye and ignored what was happening, but in the face of Nina's fear, she couldn't get that film out of her mind.