Chapter 1

If You Listen

To the rhythm

Calling out in the dark

Can you hear it?

That's your spirit

Just follow your heart

"Live Life"

Jesse & Joy

 

 

"In response to the attack, Captain Michael Rosenfield remains silent. However we were able to get information from Police Investigator Bryan Reynolds that the assault has been committed none other than"" The female reporter's voice was cut off.

An audible sigh escaped Elliot's lips while she stared at the blank screen of the flat screen television.

       "Nightblade," She grumbled. "I get it, Meghan."

       Her thumb still hovered over the power button of the remote, which she had pressed merely seconds ago.

       She puckered her lips in annoyance.

       It's only been a week since Elisa Rosenfield was buried. It hasn't been easy for Elliot and Michael"especially for Michael, but the crimes in the city made good distraction. Surely Meghan Park's report had been accurate, but the missing pieces of the puzzle are yet to be found.

       For all Elliot knew"or much of what her father had told her-every time there was a trace to whom this Nightblade was, there laid a dead end. It was as if the investigators are trying to catch a shadow.

       Michael was becoming more stressed that he should be. He imprisoned himself in his office most of the day, because of this whole operation.

       Elliot couldn't bear it. They fought in the middle of breakfast, resulting to him leaving her alone at the dining table.

       She rolled her eyes at the memory.

       "For a powerful man, he can be very immature." She murmured, more to herself than at the empty room. "No wonder he has too many haters."

       From the very comfortable sofa, Elliot stood up and smoothed down her sweater. She left the remote on top of the centre table.

       "As much as I want to argue with you, Young Elliot," Her butler said. "I believe we have a visitor."

       Elliot smiled at the old man who stood a meter away.

       Gone were those black suit and tie that every man in the house wore for the past week. Sawyer was now covered in a proper damson suit, cut Victorian style. Although Elliot loved the color on him, the shade made his grey eyes and greying hair stand out.

There was no need for Elliot to ask who the visitor was, for behind her butler was her best friend.

       Clark Grigori towered over Sawyer"and just like everyone else­"in his 6'2 frame and had his most famous crooked smile plastered on his face. His wavy chocolate locks of hair were combed neatly at the side. She would sometimes hear a lot of girls envy her for being with him all the time, but she never doubted that the way she looked at him like an older brother would change. They've been friends since forever and yet, Elliot will never get used to the lost baby fat on his face and figure. Who would have thought that the shy, scrawny kid from before could be the same gentleman in front of her?

       There was nothing special about the clothing he wore a maroon sweater vest over a tucked long sleeved button down shirt with matching black slacks and shiny black shoes. It was his style. He didn't care what other people thought of him.

       He looked like a businessman rather than a senior student. He looked...

       More like his father, Elliot thought.

       Clark's brown doe eyes traveled along her face, as though searching for something behind her thoughtful eyes.

       "Thank you, Sawyer." Elliot uttered without taking her eyes of her best friend.

       The butler made a curt bow and left.

       "Hi Clark," She greeted shyly, once the old man was gone.

       "Hi Ellie," Clark echoed, his voice sympathetic despite his smile. "You, um... ready for school?"

       When will people stop looking at me like a lost puppy? She thought petulantly.

       Nonetheless, she bobbed her head.

       Ever so slowly, Ellie turned around in a manner like she wore a gown instead of a printed white sweater, black leggings and her favorite mid calf lace-up boots.

       "How do I look?" She grinned at her best friend, her last thought discarded.

       Clark rested his chin between his forefinger and thumb while his elbow used his other arm like a table.

       He furrowed his eyebrows.

       "What?" Her smile slowly faded.

       "You have dirt on your face."

       "Where?"

       Elliot immediately turned to the floor to ceiling mirror by the long couch and touched her face.

The girl who looked back at Ellie was fair white with wide stormy grey eyes-big and round that they could fill-up her heart shaped face. Her small pale-pink lips were glossed by lip balm"the only kind of make-up she ever wore. Her straight, honey blonde hair fell freely around her face and down to her elbows.

       Her eyes searched for any blemish, but there appears to be none.

       Unable to contain his mirth, Clark let out a rich and playful laugh. "I was just kidding."

       He winked at Elliot's glare through the mirror.

       She rolled her eyes at him. "Not funny,"

     "I'm just trying to make you smile wider." He wrinkled his nose, pocketing both of his hands.

       She gave him a small smile.

   It was nice to have someone sway the atmosphere and change the happenings for a while.

       "Thanks." Elliot murmured.

       With those last words, Ellie took the abandoned messenger bag on the couch and looped her arm in her best friend's. Together they walked out of the front doors, which was opened by one of the maidservants.

       Down the tiled stairs of the villa was the service car, a black BMW with Elliot's personal bodyguard standing outside the driver side.

       Clark gave her a smile. "Ready?"

       "As I'll ever be."

       They descended the steps and into the pavement floor of the driveway.

       Wilson, Elliot's bodyguard, opened the passenger door for them. She entered first before her best friend.

       Apparently, Will was supposed to be a 'gift'. Except that Elliot couldn't help but think of him as a baggage rather than a guardian. He appeared nearly two years ago, after her father had insisted that she should have one, because of the following threats of assassination in the industry. It was like a shooting target suddenly emerged from her back. The thought of having someone give up his or her life for her made shivers run down her spine.

       Elisa's incident came to mind.

       If the same thing happens to me, Elliot's eyes flickered to Will, would he end up just like mom?

       Before an answer could pop in her curious little mind, she dismissed the thought and gazed out of the tinted windows instead. With her thoughts hushed in her head, the drive towards the academy was quiet against the soft opera that enveloped the car. Though the singer wasn't English, her melodic tone was sorrowful.

       Somehow it made Elliot's chest tighten and her shoulders heavy. How is it that everyone was still in mourning?

       "Ellie," Clark sang, playfully poking her elbow. "You all right?"

       Elliot gave him a small smile. "Yeah, just trying to... you know..." she waved a hand in the air.

       He returned her smile. "Tell me, when you feel like it." He took her hand in his and squeezed it. "I'm here for you."

       "Thanks."

       "Anytime."

       Sometimes it felt unfair for him to wait for her to say the things he wanted to hear when most times it was Ellie who kept on pushing words out of his mouth. Though he never complained about her attitude, it still felt wrong"mainly in these kinds of situations.

       Clark let her hand fall on her lap when they finally descended in front of 

the familiar building of The Academy of the Arts.

       The sight of the clear stairway made Elliot slightly relieved. The fact that the press didn't dare try and get answers from her made things a bit easier than it had last week. At that time, she was so thankful for having Will by her side. The press couldn't quite leave her alone.

       Maybe it's because I never answered their questions? She thought and frowned.

       Nonetheless, she took a deep breath and allowed Clark to usher her out of the car.

       Will gave both of them a small smile, before closing the door behind them.

       He wore a black blazer over a white undershirt with dark pants and black shoes. His blonde hair was cut short and his face was clear from any facials. It was protocol. He looked calm and collected, though it was clear through his jade green eyes that he was on high alert.

       "Enjoy your day, miss Rosenfield."

       She nodded. "Thank you, Will."

       Only then did the car leave when both students were already safe inside the walls of the academy.

       The moment they entered the building, Elliot held her head high and tried her best to keep vulnerability invisible from her eyes. She had to be strong. She couldn't let herself break like the last time she went to school. She wouldn't bare another sympathising gaze if her façade shatters.

       Clark, who stood beside her, added as a reassurance.

       And as if fate had seen her struggle, another anchor came to hook her unto the ground.

       Walking towards them was a girl, wearing the perfect mask of confidence and beauty that Elliot knew the girl always had. Her graceful posture and stance was the same of Ellie's, but only she can hold it without a fail of clumsiness.

       Charlotte Goode was a close friend and whenever Elliot sees her, there's only calmness in her heart.

       Her coffee brown hair was held mercilessly into a tight bun, no hair out of place. She was already dressed in a short-sleeved leotard with a wrap-over skirt over her tights and ballet slippers. Her olive skin shone under the hallway lights, projecting her high cheekbones.

       Once she reached them, she immediately enveloped Elliot with a hug.

       "Finally," Charlotte said after pulling away. "We were waiting for you."

       Ellie giggled. "I blame Clark." She jabbed a thumb towards her best friend.

       "What?" The boy protested.

       "He took his time," Elliot continued as if he hadn't raised his voice. "I was rotten when he arrived."

       "Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "This is the 'thanks' I get?"

       "Kidding," She giggled and turned to him. "Will you be fine on your own?"

       The boy gave her a toothy grin. "I know where I'm supposed to go."

       Elliot stood on her toes and pressed her right cheek on Clarks. "Okay, I'll see you later."

       At that, they bid their farewell and Clark left them alone.

       Elliot then turned to Charlotte. "Shall we?"

       She looped her arm on her friend's and together, they walked to the last room in the hall-the ballet studio.

       Although there were still ten minutes before the bell rings, students were already there. They were dressed in comfortable leotard, tights"some in skirts"and ballet slippers. Elliot saw her classmates talking to each other whilst some of the others stretched.

       A warm smile tugged at her lips.

       Ellie had been three when she first entered the world of ballet. At first it was difficult. But after years of practice, she came to love it even with the pain it brought to her feet. It became her passion, her home. The only place where she could release tension and express herself without the judgment of others.

       Just as she pushed herself through the door, she was enveloped by a bone-crushing hug.

       "Iris," Elliot coughed out. "Can't breath."

       "Oops," The other girl pulled away, her eyes now dancing with worry. "Sorry."

       Iris Meyer was a girl with shoulder length, coppery hair that is now held by a tight bun. It made her pinkish skin free from any cover and exposed the freckles across her nose. Her speckled green eyes searched Elliot's apologetically, while her pink lips pulled up in a shy smile.

       She was by far the bubbliest of all Elliot's friends. She knew when to make the situation light and plan their hangouts. Sometimes, Ellie would doubt that the girl was born ginger and not blonde like her.

       "So," Iris said, following her to the ladies locker room. "Char's birthday is on Wednesday."

Ellie's hand hovered on her locker door, as she paused and turned to the other girl. "Gosh," she rested her forehead on her palm. "I still don't have a dress for the dance."

      Iris suppressed her amusement. "I knew you'd forget. That's why we're going shopping after school."

     Elliot nodded, closing her locker door and proceeding to one of the changing rooms. "Thanks, Iris. I'll tell Will to pick us up."

       "What color do you think will look great on me?" The other girl asked from outside the changing curtain.

       "Green," Ellie replied after a beat. "Like your eyes."

       For the next few minutes, she busied herself in changing her clothes to a leotard and tights. Iris tied her hair into a neat bun, while she tied the ribbon of her slippers. She returned to the studio to start her stretch on the Barres. Iris joined her.

       By the time they were finished, the bell had rung and their instructor was already in the room.

       "Good morning everyone," Mrs. Flincher said. "I hope you've all stretched, because we have a lot of work to do today."

       Mrs. Flincher was a tall woman in her thirties with black, close-cropped short hair and dark brown eyes that held so much persistence and authority. She wore a black, long-sleeve shrug over her leotard and a fever ballet skirt over her tights. She stood with her chin up and gazed at each of her students while she spoke.

       "I'm sure everyone knows that the fundraiser will be this Friday." She said.

       There were a few nodding, exchange of glances and muttering from the students.

       "As of today," Mrs. Flincher's continuation cut all of the conversation in the room. "We will be practicing inside the auditorium. Everyone please follow me."

       Thanks to Char and Iris, the walk towards the second floor became shorter than it's supposed to be. They chatted with soft low voices about their weekend and plans for Char's birthday.

Mrs. Flincher clapped her hand twice once they reached the door and the chattering stopped.

   "From this day, we will be practicing inside the auditorium. I want everyone to be attentive and no one to be late."

       Satisfied with the bobbing of heads that answered her, she turned on her heels and opened the doors to the auditorium without looking back to see if her students followed.

       The lights that illuminated the room were dim, but still enough for them to find their way inside without tripping on the flush carpet.

       This hall was the largest in the academy and screamed of red and black and fortune. It's complete with infinite, velvet theatre seats that faced headlong towards the rectangular stage. The curtains of the stage were pulled aside, exposing the unfinished props that were pushed at the very back and leaving space for the performers.

       Ellie settled at the stage with her fellow dancers"waiting for a word from their instructor.

       Mrs. Flincher stood below the stage, a remote on her right hand.

       "Let us begin with Odette's solo, Elliot." The instructor voiced loudly. Her eyes were settled on a specific student, expectant.

       As encouraging as Mrs. Flincher may seem, still it didn't stop the fastening beat of Ellie's heart as the students cleared the stage for her. The continuous thud became louder that she almost doubted she’d hear the music.

       She released her lower lip, swallowed hard and breathed out.

       Please don't make me trip and fall on my face like last time. She pleaded in her mind.

       The song started with a mournful beat from a piano, melancholic. With closed eyes, Ellie reveled in feeling the song, matching it up with her emotions.

       When the second beat came, the girl opened her eyes and easily commanded her body with movements of grace. It's something that she had mastered for years and years of practice. She let the music control her as it began to flood her mind. It moved from her hands to her feet as she sank to the ground and twisted to her left. Without even breaking her balance, her left leg danced in the air and to the floor in a manner of a sitting position. She continued her stance without breaking a sweat and soon she was standing again.

       Out of the corner of her eye, Iris gave her thumbs up.

       She smiled briefly and continued on.

Not long after a pirouette did Ellie realize that the song was somehow connected to what she's feeling for the past week. It was the reason why the song was very easy to interpret.

       When the song slowed to it's ending, Elliot's breathing became more desperate and the balls of her feet slightly ached but she didn't care. Like in the beginning, she ended the song in a sitting position. She cradled her head in her hands.

       The clapping hands of her classmates brought her back to reality.

       She re-adjusted her leg warmers and stood up, waiting for her breathing to slow.

       At that moment, she felt lighter, as if a weight had been removed from her shoulders. Since her mother's death, she couldn't seem to bring herself to dance without loosing her cool. This was the first that she didn't breakdown crying while interpreting a song.

Mrs. Flincher's measuring gaze didn't calm her heart, however a tiny part of her brain continued to hope that this time her presentation was good enough.

       Time appeared to have stopped, the clapping of her classmates muffled against her slowing heartbeat and calming breath. The instructor had her lips pursed and her eyes betrayed nothing.

       "I never doubted you as 'Odette' Elliot." Mrs. Flincher's expression softened. "In fact, your interpretation was magnificent. Continue on doing that and I guarantee that the audience will love our performance on Friday night."

       Elliot happily nodded, swallowing down the urge to hug her instructor right then and there.

       She returned to her station beside Char.

       "That was great." Charlotte grinned from ear to ear.

       "It felt better than the last time." Ellie breathed out, a goofy smile plastered on her face.

"That it was." Iris agreed from her left.

       For the next few hours, Ellie couldn't find herself to focus. Her mind was cramped up with thinking about her achievement.

       Finally! She thought.

Author's Note

This is more of a "get-to-know" Elliot :)