Heath smirked back at her and nodded. He turned to go then stopped and looked back at Bunz. "She say why she was stressed out?"
Bunz studied him knowingly. Heath got the feeling that she knew everything about him and Drew. "Well, a number of reasons, I'm sure. I understand she had a bit of a late night last night." She lifted a brow at him before continuing. "She got some mail she wasn't particularly happy with but wouldn't tell me what it was. And, she's upset that her favorite ballet is coming into town and she can't go see it."
"What ballet?" Heath asked. "Why can't she go? She working?"
"Tickets are just really expensive and she can't afford it," Bunz said. "I would have loved to get her tickets but I'm just a broke college student."
"She said you paid for her entry fee for the showcase, by the way," Heath said. "Good work."
Bunz smiled. "Yes, well. I knew she never would have done it if I hadn't. But that was most of my free money, so now I'm reduced to eating Ramen again." She shrugged negligently, but he could tell she wasn't being serious.
"You seem like a good friend," he replied. "Well. I guess I'll go look for her at the Y, then." He turned and headed for the door, then turned back, his hand on the knob. "What's the name of that ballet?"
Bunz glanced at him sharply, and smiled with something like approval. "It's called Giselle," she answered. "It's next Thursday. At the Benedum. It's at eight o'clock. Oh, and her favorite restaurant is Elements, which is only about a five-minute cab ride from the theater." She smiled so innocently that Heath couldn't help chuckling.
"Duly noted," he replied. He lifted his hand in a wave. "Thanks."
***
Drew was breathing hard, sweating, and glaring at her reflection in the long mirror that covered an entire wall of the studio. She stalked over to the stereo system encased in a small wooden entertainment center to restart her song.
She had several ideas for her showcase piece, but when she started a new project, she liked to let a few different songs move her to see what struck her. She'd been working on this latest piece for almost an hour, just letting her body and training take over, pushing her conscious thought process to the back.
The opening strains of "Ride" by Lana Del Rey seeped out from the machine and Drew stood still for a moment, her eyes closed. As the singer's haunting, melodic voice flowed around her, Drew began to move, her eyes still closed. She let the notes, the voice, the melody control her movements as she moved around the room. Her muscles strained from fatigue, but she refused to be tired. She pointed her toes sharply, her thigh muscles aching as she forced her legs straight up in controlled grande battements, her calves tensing as she pushed up en pointe, turning pirouettes and fouettes. The emotional words flooded through her body; the song was melancholy, the singer begging a lover not to leave her as she sought her own freedom on the open road. As the music and lyrics reached its climax, Drew leapt through the air, each leg extending sharply in front of and behind her.
"I'm tired of feelin' like I'm fuckin' crazy/I'm tired of drivin' 'til I see stars in my eyes/I look up to hear myself saying baby/Too much I strive/I just ride."
For a moment Drew's conscious mind left her although her eyes opened to watch herself in the mirror. Her dance was strong, emotional; she hadn't danced like this in a long time and she observed her own body, lost to the control of her muscles and emotion and training, moving to a song that evoked great emotion within her. It was nothing she'd rehearsed or worked out prior to this exact moment. She was just moving but it made sense; she was telling a story with her body. Her story.
As the song ended and she came to a gradual stop, she was amazed to see that she was crying. She studied her reflection in the mirror, seeing her eyes glistening with tears. One slipped down her cheek as she stared at herself, her chest heaving from her exertion but strangely, she didn't feel tired at all anymore.
A movement reflected in the mirror caught her eye, from behind the window that peeked into the studio. She whirled around and was shocked to see Heath standing in the window, watching her with something like amazement on his face. She quickly brushed the backs of her hands over her cheeks and moved to the door, pulling it open. She was embarrassed; she typically never danced for anyone except her students, and even then, it was just exercises, techniques and easy recital dances. No one she knew personally had ever seen her dance with true emotion and passion like this for a long time, and it made her slightly uncomfortable. Moreover, she couldn't recall a time where she spontaneously, unconsciously began crying during her dancing.