Jordan Staal knew he was out of his element when he walked into the theatre and saw men in tights. But he took a deep breath, walked down the small aisle and chose a seat, right behind the choreographers. He held the small blackberry in between his palms and kept his eyes open for the girl with the small body and delicate face. The lights onstage came on, and the moment a man walked on, a constant murmur began between the pair in front of him.

He didn’t know ballet. He couldn’t tell what the difference between first position and Pointe was, but he could tell you that ballet took a lot of skill and effort. He could also tell you that it was hard.

Jordan watched many people walk on and walk off and soon he found himself listening to the people in front of him gossip. Though he didn’t know who they were, he could guess according to the descriptions that went along with the stories.

Randy Garder was a young, thing, straight man fresh out of high school that, at first, appeared to be promising. That is, until he had his first taste of alcohol.

Then, there was Keisha Edwards. A thin, short black woman, she was half paralyzed in her right foot but still managed to become one of Pittsburgh’s prima ballerinas. Until she got pregnant.

And then, he saw her. She tentatively stepped onto the stage, testing her balance in the stiff, new Pointe shoes. The female choreographer scoffed and Jordan sent her a look, but kept quiet.

“She won’t be here much longer.” The woman whispered to the man next to her in an unusually nasally voice. Jordan watched the small girl on stage dance and wondered what the choreographer was talking about. Then, it happened.

Mason O’Rear tripped.

Stumbled really, but it turned the once beautiful picture into a lopsided mess. And Jordan understood. Mason was sick. And that was effecting her dancing. He watched as she quickly got up and returned to her prior position and he couldn’t help but think that it might be embarrassing for the choreographers, but it was more embarrassing for her. He’d only known her for a few hours, but even then, he could see she was a proud woman. Admitting weakness was the next step up from surrendering to it.

He leaned against the back of his chair and watched as she moved across the stage. At a distance, she was graceful, but even from where he was sitting, eleven rows back, there were flaws in her movement. Mason went to the right side of the stage and stood completely still.

“Well, she may be loosing her touch, but there’s still one thing she can do that no one else in this company can do.” The male choreographer said to his partner. Jordan looked at Mason and noticed her stance had shifted. She ran towards the spotlights that had come up on the stage, came onto the toe of her shoe, and slid. Into the arms of another man. Jordan could feel his heart speed up and his fingers twitch, and he realized what this was. Jealousy. The man caught Mason and lifted her up, but before he put her down the choreographer in front of him stood up and clapped his hands.

The lights went up and Jordan jumped to his feet and jogged down the aisle, trying to catch up to the now leaving Mason while exerting as little effort as possible.

Jordan Staal called Mason O’Rear’s name once. And once was all it took. She stopped. And smiled. He continued jogging up the steps, taking two at a time, and when he stopped in front of her, he held his hand out. She looked down and laughed, taking her phone from his hand, and he couldn’t help but notice how small her hands were.

“How’d you know where to find me?” Her voice as light as a wind chime. Jordan shrugged.

“Magic.” But Mason wasn’t buying it. She raised her eyebrows, refusing to play along. “It was in your calendar.”

She nodded and thanked him before standing on her toes and kissing his cheek. And then she walked away. Jordan went to the edge of the stage and heel clicked off. He started walking up the aisle, backwards and he called her name. She poked her head from around the curtain.

“I’ll talk to you soon.” He smiled his grin, and butterflies erupted in her stomach. She certainly hoped she would.

He knew he would.