Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.
A/N: This a snapshot from a little thing I'm trying out. The story is set in a present-day Russian ballet academy, and centers on a lesbian ballerina named Asya, and her friends, Vera and Pavlo. Rector is the official title given to the head of the Vaganova Ballet Academy. Feel free, as always, to let me know if you'd be interested in reading the rest of this or what I can do to improve.
Side note– the title Bond and Free is a placeholder; please let me know if you have a better title idea! xoxo
“The first semester of my seventh year here, the depression sank in,” Rector began. “I’ve been on medication ever since.” I looked up at him, expecting him to continue. He did. “I suffered from the usual symptoms, the lack of interest in anything, the unusual preference for sleep over people, the idea that I wasn’t depressed but simply seeking attention…” His voice trailed off. I looked up and imagined I saw the young Rector, with dead eyes and a slack jaw, working through his depression day by day, with no one to guide him. His eyes cleared. “I see that in you, Pav,” he said, leaning in toward me from his perch on my desk. I could smell his pine-scented cologne. “Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you? Nothing you want to talk about?”
“No.” The answer shot out of me of its own accord, forceful and quick. Rector leaned back with a sigh.
“Yes,” he said slowly, removing his glasses. “I remember saying just that to another teacher.” He cleaned his glasses on the hem of his shirt. “She’s long dead now, of course, but I remember.” His hands moved methodically, rubbing in tight circles on one thickly framed lens. “I’d had this friend, Vlad, you see, who’d committed suicide.” Now, I looked down at my hands. He had to know. “He was a homosexual.” My heart pounded so loudly I was sure Putin himself could hear me in Moscow. “I always blamed myself for his death, and that’s why I was depressed. I was inconsolable.” His hand switched from one lens to the other, still circling like a tan vulture. “I kept thinking that if I had just told that teacher what had been going on before his, uh, suicide…” Rector’s voice trailed off again, but this time it was more deliberate, to allow me time to reconsider talking to him. He placed his glasses back on the bridge of his beaky nose.
“Rector, I…” The silence sat between us, unbridgeable.
“It’s not bugged.”
“What?” Rector gestured around the room.
“The room. It’s not bugged. You’re safe here.”
To hear that word, safe, and to believe it for the first time in so long was the sweetest relief. My head found my hands and I let myself break down.
Rector placed one hand on my back.
“Asya was…”
“I know.”
“And they…”
“Yes.”
“It’s so fucking unfair, Rector.” My breath came ragged and hideous.
“I know.”
“She’s dead, Rector.”
“I know.”
“They fucking killed her.”
“I know.”
“Just for—”
“Don’t.”
“But you said—”
“I know, but still.” Rector sighed. “It’s even safer if you never say it aloud.” Rage, not defiance, forced the words out anyway.
“Just for being a lesbian!” The words ripped against my throat, deliciously painful and dangerous. I stood, feeling the heat of my face dry my foolish tears.
“I’m sick of trying to be safe,” I snarled. “Asya, Vlad, all of them would have died for nothing if all we do is try to be safe when they’re gone.”
“Pavlo, try to see reason—” Rector began, but I cut him off, this time in defiance.
“I am seeing reason, Rector. This is not right. This ends with Asya’s death, Rector.”
“What are you going to do about it, Pavlo?” Rector clenched his fists and his teeth. “What can you do against a great leader like Putin?”
“How can you SAY that!?” I screamed. “He killed Asya! He killed Vlad! Don’t you dare try to tell me Vlad actually committed suicide? Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Rector. We both know Asya’s plaque hangs next to his in the hallway as a reminder, not as a memorial.” Rector shot up from his perch.
“Don’t speak of his death in that way, Pavlo,” he growled. “You dishonor his memory, and you tarnish my grief.”
“Let it be tarnished,” I spat. “This is what he would have wanted. He and Asya, both.”
“WHAT, Pavlo? WHAT do they want?”
I was silent for only a moment.
“Hope. For the rest of us.” Rector said nothing, only looked at the ground in pain. I knew what I had to say. I pronounced each word like punctuation.
“Do not go gentle into that good night.”
Rector looked up at me and this time, I knew I wasn’t imagining it; scared, lonely eighteen-year-old Rector sat before me, bewildered and lost.
“They didn’t go gentle, Rector. And neither should we.”
They came for Rector four days later.
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125,028 Literary Works • 672,774 Reviews
Hi, Royal!
I thought this was quite sad, and the last sentence was spine-chilling stuff. I've only read a tiny segment now, but I think your plot idea is really good, and very relevant right now with Russia being a country where homosexuality isn't tolerated. You say you were testing out a dramatic scene and this was definitely very dramatic, so well done!
My main issue with this was the amount of dialogue! You can express what your character's are like through other means, and there was just too much dialogue in this that just wasn't really necessary, and could've been replaced with something else. Remember, a character's actions are also very important in revealing what they're like. So you could've explained how certain things were said, and what Recotr and Pavlo were doing during this conversation. Walking around nervously? Sitting down too scared to move? etc.
Also, considering that this is in the first person you've got a lot of opportunity to talk about Pavlo's feelings, their inner monologue. They must be feeling so awful about Asya, which is shown in the dialogue, but you can also do it in their thoughts. And the fact that Rector is reluctant to speak at first, you could have more of Pavlo's thoughts on that.
As this is just a random scene, I'm not sure how helpful this next point is, but I'd like to see a bit more description, maybe about the ballet studio. You might've already explained this in previous parts, but this part lacks description of any kind, even, as said before, about the characters and their reactions to things. But you could answer questions like where is everyone else? Maybe you could talk about the ballet studio and how it is a safe sanctuary compared to the outside world where homophobia is rife.
I'm curious to know whether the story is set after they kill Asya, or that's a part in the middle. Either way, I'd love to read more of this, so let me know if you post anything else. You did a good job at creating a dramatic scene, however there isn't enough variation in your writing, as in less dialogue more descriptions/explanations. I hope this review helps, feel free to ask me any questions or if you'd like another review on anything.
Keep writing,
~ArcticMonkey x
It's emotional, that's for sure. The writing style could be shaped up a bit more. Try to tone down on the f-word. I think it's best if you use it only once or twice so its emotional weight remains. I don't know much about the situation with Putin, only a few things. I'd like a bit more background information. Unique story setting and plot. Good luck with the story!