LV Chapter 1.1 || The Ugly Duckling, Sasya Shchedrin

The following January, after sending the last letter.

New York Ballet Company’s affiliated ballet school, Studio B.

“Sasya, stretch your arms all the way to your fingertips!”

Slap! A harsh hand struck the inner side of Sasya’s delicate arm, which was stretched out à la seconde¹. At the stinging touch, Sasya bit his lips until they turned white and extended his middle finger as far as he could until his arm went numb.

“Longer! Allonger²!”

The boys who had just witnessed Sasya being hit froze like ice, tensing even more to avoid the same fate. With pale faces, they stretched their necks long and held their breath.

“I told you to breathe!”

Sasya got another hit on his chest from Vadim for not showing his breathing.

Although officially neither corporal punishment nor verbal abuse was tolerated in class, Vadim, the ballet master with a distinctive Russian accent, was particularly harsh on Sasya. As someone who firmly believed in the superiority of the ‘Russian style of education,’ he seemed unable to abandon his teaching methods even here in New York.

The problem was that this teaching method was limited to certain students. As far as Sasya knew, he was the only one.

Of course, since Sasya himself had received such ‘Russian-style education’ from a very young age, he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with Vadim’s methods. However, on days when he got slapped along with verbal abuse, tears would well up in his eyes involuntarily.

At first, he wanted to cry out of embarrassment, but now he cried because he was overwhelmed by the thought that he might truly be beyond help and so bad at ballet that he made his teacher angry.

But since he would surely be thrown out by Vadim if he cried in class, he held it in and only cried before going to bed.

“Everyone, come forward and bow to the master.”

By the time the 90-minute class ended, everyone was gasping for breath.

“Bow to the accompanist.”

Following Vadim’s lead, the students bowed twice, then scattered to gather their belongings or stretch further. When the completely exhausted Sasya sat down on the floor to stretch, it happened.

“Sasya! Sitting right after class will make your butt spread out in an unsightly way! Get up this instant!”

Although he hadn’t meant to sit and rest but to stretch, Sasya got up listlessly as instructed instead of making excuses.

Then Vadim stepped closer to Sasya and pointed to the hall door.

Just as Sasya, feeling intimidated, was gathering his bag, thinking he was being told to leave because he was unsightly—

“The house mother called for you. Said to come right after class. What have you done now?”

* * *

A group of young girls who had finished their pointe shoes class opened the hall door and walked into the corridor. Their light purple leotards meant they were first-years in Upper School. Sasya Shchedrin, just a year older than them, was heading in the opposite direction, wearing a faded old tracksuit over his dark blue leotard that indicated he was a second-year.

The girls’ gazes lingered for just a moment, an imperceptible instant, on the black-haired boy who seemed somewhat dazed, before leaving.

His long, deep-set eyes were shadowed, his cheeks flushed pink with visible blood vessels, and his forehead with strands of hair parted looked refreshing despite being damp with sweat. The neatly tied buns atop the round heads of the other students bobbed as they chattered like birds, occasionally glancing back at the tall, slender figure of the male student who had just passed by.

At that moment, Sasya’s mind was filled with thoughts about the reason for his sudden summon.

They called only for him. What could be the reason? If it was about his dancing, Vadim would have told him. He couldn’t understand why he needed to meet the house mother. Was she going to tell him that no matter how much scholarship money he received, his skills weren’t improving, so he was being cut off? Or was it because his academic grades were so terrible that there was no choice but to revoke his scholarship? Money was the most frightening issue for the sixteen-year-old Sasya.

Sasya soon arrived at the office. There was a small window with a dense grid pattern, but the opaque glass made it impossible to see inside. As far as Sasya could remember, this was his first visit to the office since his enrollment last year.

Although opening the door before him would immediately reveal why he had been called, Sasya’s sensitive nature had already ruminated on countless worst-case scenarios during his short walk across the corridor.

“Sasya?”

The door opened from the inside first, startling Sasya so much that he forgot to breathe.

“You’re here. Come in and sit here.”

If Julia, the house mother, hadn’t been smiling, he might have fainted from lack of oxygen right there. Sasya took a deep breath and approached the chair she indicated.

“Yes, what is the…”

Sasya sat somewhat nervously on the backless chair she pointed to. Having heard until his ears hurt that sitting comfortably would ruin his body, his back immediately straightened.

“You’re sweating a lot. Did Vadim push you too hard?”

“Time… I-I didn’t have time to wash up.”

He tended to stutter a bit when flustered. The school even provided personal English tutors for scholarship students from overseas. Worried that Julia might be testing his English proficiency, Sasya kept thinking about whether the grammar of the sentences he had already spoken was correct.

Meanwhile, Julia’s gaze lingered long on Sasya, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

While most dance students tend to focus on a single goal like blinkered racehorses, Sasya had an additional delicate and sensitive disposition. Moreover, when spoken to, he would shrink back and be on the defensive. He had the habit of making excuses even when not being blamed for anything.

However, instead of pointing this out, Julia silently turned her gaze and picked up a document from the desk.

“I didn’t mean to scold you for coming here sweaty. The reason I called you today is…”

“…”

“Because of your last physical examination results.”

Only then did Sasya’s gaze fall on the paper Julia was holding.

“You’ve lost 7 pounds since we weighed you a few months ago. While you’ve grown 2 inches taller… By our standards, we had to judge that there might be something wrong with your body.”

“Ah…”

“Are you eating properly? You’re not skipping meals because you’re short on money or find it bothersome, are you?”

“No. I…”

Sasya closed his mouth after saying that much.

Recently, after finishing his daily routine, he would often just fall asleep, completely exhausted and unable to move a finger. While lunch was provided in the cafeteria, breakfast and dinner, as well as weekend meals, had to be prepared by oneself in the dormitory.

Shortly after enrollment, Julia, who was sitting before him like now, had gathered the new students and personally taught them a few simple cooking methods. Although Sasya too would cook for himself with his clumsy skills, it had been over a month since he last went grocery shopping.

“Have you been skipping meals?”

At the repeated question, Sasya answered a small ‘Yes.’ His heart started beating wildly at Julia’s sigh that followed.

“I know you’re a hardworking student, but dancers must never skip meals. Especially while you’re still growing up… If you develop osteoporosis, you’re more likely to get injured, and if you do get injured, all your hard work will be for nothing.”

“…”

“Dancing well is important, of course. But the most important thing for a dancer is self-care. A dancer who neglects taking care of themselves can never succeed. As I’ve always said, what we’re interested in is…”

My body.

Sasya answered in his mind. The words Julia had spoken in a gentle voice at the entrance ceremony were still deeply embedded in his mind.

“Is your body. How Sasya Shchedrin’s body transforms into a magnificent dancer. To be frank, we’re not interested in anything else. No, more like we won’t pay attention to anything else. You want to become a professional dancer, right? If you can’t focus on ballet, you need to think carefully about what’s bothering you, and if you lack energy, you need to check if you’re getting the nutrients your body needs. That’s all part of the training. When you become a professional, the only person who will take care of you is yourself.”

Julia had said this at the entrance ceremony too. She drew the line coldly with a kind face. Even while knowing that this was a way to help them become independent, Sasya still remembers feeling somewhat lonely.

“…I know.”

“Good.”

Julia smiled just with her lips and asked her final checklist question.

“How long has it been since you talked to your mom?”

“I do it every day.”

Sasya lied. In reality, he only called about twice a week. And since they always had the same conversation, it didn’t matter whether he called or not.

At school, they encouraged students to call their parents if they felt the need for comfort. But that advice only worked for those with normal parent-child relationships. Sasya didn’t want to burden his mother anymore. This wasn’t just because Sasya was a considerate son. When he heard her sighing voice over the various living expenses needed beyond the scholarship, he found it even harder to open his mouth.

“Mhm, so there shouldn’t be any other problems.”

Sasya nodded. By the next physical examination, he would definitely need to gain weight. If not, they might examine his qualifications more closely.

Click.

“Those sponsors are paying fifty thousand dollars each year.”

At the unfamiliar voice that came with the sudden opening of the door behind him, Sasya instinctively turned his gaze that way. An elderly woman in an elegant gray suit and several men in suits who were assisting her were coming out of the artistic director’s room.

“They’ll want a one-of-a-kind experience. A luncheon as a gesture of hospitality won’t be enough.”

“But rehearsals are off-limits.”

Someone interjected, interrupting the troubled artistic director.

“Besides, the sponsors paid an additional ten thousand dollars just for this New York visit package. It’s an exorbitant amount compared to a regular trip. They’re going to expect something.”

“Alright. You said there are thirty of them… How about a visit to the ballet school?”

“Hmm… The ballet school, you say.”

The gaze of the group walking out fell on Sasya. They naturally looked his way because the pretty, pale boy was staring intently at them. Though they found it strange how Sasya was looking at them so intensely, they passed by without much interest.

“Is the chairman of the foundation coming too?”

Sasya’s head turned automatically at the voice of a man walking past him.

“He’s not the type to be interested in things like this. Not like the general public who are desperate to see ballet stars.”

With those final words, the suited individuals completely left the office. When the door closed with a thud, the outside noise transformed into faint murmuring sounds.

“Sasya.”

“…”

“Sasya?”

“Yes?”

Julia shrugged her shoulders while looking at Sasya, who was still distracted by the people who had just left.

 

“You can leave now.”

“Alright…”

“Oh, wait, have you told your parents?”

Julia asked as Sasya was rising from his seat, shoulders slumped.

“About what?”

“The competition. It would be good for you to win some awards.”

Sasya remained silent instead of answering.

“Only if you’re interested, of course.”

“I’ll talk to them about it.”

Sasya left the office with his eyes downcast.

As he walked back to the dormitory through the hallway, his steps were unusually slow. The sweat that had soaked his back earlier had cooled, sending a slight chill through him.

‘A competition…’

Sasya thought about his classmates who had entered the school with him.

He was the only one among them who had never entered a competition. He might even be the only one in the entire Upper School. Of course, even without entering competitions, graduating with excellent grades would give him a good chance of being selected as a corps member of the New York Ballet Company right here.

But what if he failed?

Students were making appearances at various international competitions to prepare for that possibility. If their skills were good enough, they could receive audition calls from ballet companies worldwide even without winning awards. Sasya desperately wanted those opportunities too.

If he couldn’t get into a ballet company right after graduation…

‘It means I don’t have that level of talent. So, I should just go back home.’

Sasya bit his lip until it turned white.

His mother, Galina, had struggled just to pay for his plane ticket to New York for the initial admission, and she wouldn’t have allowed him to study abroad if it weren’t for the full scholarship. In fact, Sasya had been receiving audition offers since he was ten years old, but she had rejected them, saying her son’s talent wasn’t anything special.

If his neighborhood dance teacher, who had taught him ballet since he was four, hadn’t submitted an audition video on his behalf, he would never have been admitted to this school… Then he probably would have given up his dream of becoming a dancer and lived as an ordinary student by day and a part-time worker at a small neighborhood store by night, earning some pocket money.

Even now, Galina still tells Sasya that he has the ‘opportunity’ to live that way, and he can return home anytime if he changes his mind. A life in which he would be close to his family, contributing money to the household.

For some people, that might be the right life.

And Sasya knew. Competition entry fees, costume costs, and transportation to the countries that held the competitions weren’t included in the scholarship.

He needed money to grab more opportunities.

Sasya unconsciously clenched his fist until his nails dug into his palm. His nails dug into the soft skin.

‘I don’t want to go back. I won’t just go back. Somehow, I’ll become a professional dancer… earn money through ballet, and stay here with my own strength. I absolutely won’t live an ordinary life.’

Sasya’s eyes fell on the schedule posted on the board. After a short break, next was the pas de deux³ class. He needed to eat something right now to be able to lift the girls with enough energy.

Suddenly overcome with fatigue, Sasya stumbled toward the dormitory. The only thing driving his thin body forward and fueling his energy was the determination not to go back.

* * *

“Who’s in the kitchen? Who is it? It’s dark in here. Turn on the lights!”

Sasya, who had been eating something while standing in the dim dormitory kitchen, turned toward the door with a start. Suddenly the space brightened as the fluorescent ceiling lights came on one by one.

“Sasya! What brings you to the kitchen?”

The person who entered the kitchen shouting boisterously was José, Sasya’s classmate. Behind him, the small-built Manuel peeked in with a grinning smile.

“Having a snack? All by yourself? You didn’t want to get caught, so you turned the lights off, huh?”

José approached Sasya with long strides, making one comment with each step. Always full of energy and vigor, José was big in body, voice, and movement. When he did chaînés⁴ turns using pure force, Sasya’s hair would flutter as if caught in a fan’s wind just from standing next to him.

“If it’s tasty you need to share it. Let me see.”

José’s hand reached out without hesitation and dipped into the wooden bowl Sasya was holding. After tasting the whitish sauce mixture with his index finger, José immediately wrinkled his brows exaggeratedly.

“Aioli sauce? I think it’s gone bad.”

“…It’s still edible.”

Barely listening to Sasya’s voice, José turned around and approached a speaker. Saying ‘meal times should be fun,’ he turned up the volume. Louis Armstrong’s voice flowed from the radio.

“Feels like my grandmother’s kitchen.”

“Play something else.”

The artificial fluorescent light and noise filling the space. Even that kept changing as José switched songs via Bluetooth every three seconds. Sasya, who was particularly sensitive to noise, stood dazed for a moment, feeling completely overwhelmed.

“Sasya, are you trying to lose weight too?”

At Manuel’s question, Sasya stared blankly at the wooden bowl he was holding. It had seemed fine until just now, but as soon as José said it might be spoiled, it became nauseating.

“Onions, tomatoes, eggs… That’s what I eat when I’m trying to lose weight.”

Manuel said with a shudder. About 5 centimeters shorter than Sasya, Manuel worried a lot about his height, which was only as tall as their female peers. He was always conscious of his weight and careful about food. Startled by Manuel’s words, who knew about diets better than anyone, Sasya hurriedly said,

“I need to gain weight.”

“This is the best for gaining weight.”

José, who had been listening to their conversation, went to the pantry and pulled out a rustling bag. Having apparently failed to find good music, Louis Armstrong’s voice played again from the speaker.

José opened the bag full of marshmallows, stuck several on a butter knife, and without hesitation, set the white marshmallows ablaze over the gas flame.

As soon as the surface turned brown, José held the knife toward Sasya.

“Just eat one bag a day.”

Sasya carefully took the knife by the handle and brought the marshmallows to his mouth. The slightly crispy surface tasted like roasted sugar, and the inside melted softly in his mouth. Sasya devoured all five marshmallows on the knife in succession and said to José,

“It’s delicious.”

I could probably eat thirty of these… Hearing Sasya’s voice murmuring entranced, José snickered.

“They’re only two dollars at a store. It’s an economical way to gain weight.”

José carelessly crumpled the remaining marshmallow bag and put it back in the pantry. Sasya watched the marshmallows disappear into the pantry with lingering desire in his eyes.

“Is pas de deux our next class? Damn, I need to go shower. Last time Chloe said my sweat smell was so bad she couldn’t keep her balance.”

And José left the kitchen. With just one person gone, the kitchen became eerily quiet again. It was as if a storm had swept through and departed.

Sasya went to the doorway and turned off the kitchen lights. Though it wasn’t sunset yet, and the kitchen’s lighting wasn’t great, enough light came in through the window to read when standing near the text. That was enough for Sasya.

After hesitating a bit, Sasya opened the pantry and took out the marshmallows José had put away. He opened the rustling bag, grabbed a handful of marshmallows, and stuck them on the knife one by one as José had done earlier. As Sasya turned to raise the gas flame, he discovered that Manuel hadn’t left.

“…”

“What?”

When the frozen Sasya stared at him, Manuel asked instead. Sasya stood still for a moment, clutching the knife loaded with marshmallows, watching Manuel.

“Keep doing what you were doing.”

“José also took my bread once without permission…”

Sasya tried to explain, but Manuel just sat in the dining chair, humming along to the song by Louis Armstrong. Sasya glanced at Manuel while roasting the marshmallows. Though not as well as José had done earlier, it turned out decent enough.

It really is delicious.

Earlier he had eaten too quickly and felt disappointed right away. This time, Sasya tried to eat as slowly as possible, savoring each bite.

“Give me just one.”

Then Manuel approached Sasya’s side, volunteering to become an accomplice in the marshmallow theft. He came close enough for their arms to touch and brought his face near.

“…Just one?”

“Yeah.”

Sasya personally removed one marshmallow from the knife, intending to give just one. He thought Manuel would take it with his hand, but instead, Manuel came closer saying ‘ah’ and ate the marshmallow directly from Sasya’s hand with his mouth.

“Delicious.”

Manuel smiled with his eyes. Although he was slightly taken aback, Sasya figured it was because Manuel was French. He met people of various nationalities at ballet school and sometimes they did strange things that Sasya didn’t understand, but the teachers always emphasized that it was a cultural difference. That’s why Sasya tried to accept such behaviors.

“Sasya, you’re really kind.”

“Me?”

“You pulled it off with your hand because you were worried I might get hurt.”

Actually, it was because Sasya was worried about Manuel eating two if he handed over the knife. Manuel’s unnatural, weird smile was somewhat concerning, but Sasya just thought he must be in a good mood. After all, eating sweets makes people happy.

“Sasya, don’t you think José is into Chloe?”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

Sasya was startled by the sudden secret talk about José.

“He’s super conscious when he has class with girls. He even wears perfume these days. You don’t do that, do you?”

“I…”

Come to think of it, some things suddenly occurred to Sasya. Before receiving professional ballet training like this, he had always been the target of ridicule from his peers. When he was around ten years old, they mocked him, saying that ballet was only for gays and asking if he wanted to be a girl. By the time he was thirteen, the insults had flipped—they accused him of doing ballet because he was desperate to touch women. That’s what it meant to have a notable talent in a small town.

“I don’t do ballet because of girls.”

“Right?”

“Ballet isn’t something you’d do just to get close to girls. It’s way too hard for that.”

“True.”

Sasya spoke quite firmly, thinking of the children who used to make fun of him in the past. Only someone who doesn’t know how difficult this is could say such things. He wished he had snapped back at them properly then.

That’s when Manuel moved his arm closer and said,

“Sasya. You seem different from other kids. You’re not interested in girls.”

“Me?”

“You don’t feel it?”

“…?”

Manuel’s hand slid suggestively along Sasya’s thigh, but Sasya, not understanding what was happening, just looked down at him

“I wish I had muscles like you, Sasya. I can’t seem to build muscle…”

“You need muscles for better jumps. Last year, Vadim told me my hamstring muscles were weak, so he made me exercise every day. I built them up a lot.”

“…I guess my jumps are weak because my thighs are thin.”

Manuel took Sasya’s hand and placed it on his own thigh. Sasya felt the slightly softer texture of Manuel’s leg compared to his own. Although there was a difference in body fat, it didn’t seem that thin.

“It seems strong enough though? You can definitely do it. Just keep working out.”

“…Ah, okay.”

Manuel replied with a somewhat deflated expression. Before their arms, tangled from touching each other’s legs, could separate, Manuel suddenly asked,

“Sasya. What do you dream about when you have wet dreams?”

“Wet dreams?”

Manuel spoke so close to his ear that it tickled his earlobe. Sasya covered the ear where Manuel had blown his breath with one hand and looked at him.

“If you tell me, I’ll tell you too.”

Wet dreams.

 

Can anyone explain the thrill of a kiss? No no no

But when two eager lips

Are pressed against yours

Then you’ll know, yes, you’ll know.⁵

 

For some reason, the lyrics of the song he had been half-listening to until now suddenly echoed vividly in Sasya’s mind.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had one?”

“…I, I…”

Sasya swallowed hard while suppressing his suddenly pounding heart. The frighteningly rapid heartbeat wasn’t just because of the suggestive atmosphere Manuel had created.

Sasya had felt someone else’s lips exactly once before.

And for some reason, that heat hadn’t faded for a long time. Even now.

“You’re such a late bloomer.”

Manuel smiled, pulling up the corners of his mouth, and got up from the table. The sound of the chair being pulled back, footsteps walking to the door, and finally the door closing were heard in sequence.

Left alone, Sasya recalled that heat from back then while sitting with his back to the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. A 1950s song still could be heard in the kitchen.