Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(76)

“No, I’m okay.” She drops down, better at this than when we first started.

When we’re all on the ground, Geoffrey tells us to form a horizontal line. This can’t be good.

We all stand stiffly, my hands clasped in front of me, and I try not to think about the last time we were in a horizontal line.

How he almost forced Baylee to start training with machetes.

I can’t think about it. I’ve never been in a blackout rage, but that might push me somewhere I shouldn’t be.

Geoffrey paces the length of the line, clipboard beneath his arm. “There is a reason you’re all called an artist and not just an athlete. Your job is more than just juggling tricks and technical gymnastics. You. Must. Emote.” He grips the air like he’s trying to wrench our hearts out of our ribcages.

My family has never struggled when it comes to acting.

Which is probably why Dimitri back-talks. “Your point?”

Geoffrey walks backwards and stops in front of my older cousin. Right beside me. “You think you’ve given enough to this performance?”

“When the curtains are drawn, we give our all,” Dimitri professes. “You don’t have to concern yourself with this.”

“I don’t want what you’ve always done, and I don’t care if it was good enough last season or for another show. I want unexplored, untapped passion.” Geoffrey eyes each one of us. “You’ve all done acting warm-ups with the troupe.”

It’s not a question. On Wednesday mornings, all the AE artists form a circle in the performance gym, and we do silly and fun exercises. Like pretending to be a teapot or tossing an imaginary ball to one another. Sometimes we freestyle dance in the center.

Those mornings bond us together and create an uninhibited, non-judgmental atmosphere. It’s why I love my job.

We’re all family at the end of day.

Even those of us with different last names.

Pacing again, Geoffrey tells us, “Now you’re going to do my acting exercise. And I’m going to pull something new out of you.”

Half of my cousins roll their eyes. Baylee shifts her weight. I lean back on my heels, nonchalant.

I catch Baylee’s gaze and smile, which upturns her lips for the briefest second.

“When I stand in front of you,” Geoffrey says, “you must share an excruciating moment in your life—and don’t say the words like you’re reading from someone else’s diary. Claim it. Use it. Feel it.”

Abram mutters, “No exceptions.”

I laugh.

Geoffrey zeroes in on me. (Yeah, I’m still smiling—but not dryly or in defiance.) The choreographer inches towards me, and Baylee almost clasps my hand. I hook one finger with hers.

And then Sergei steps forward, obstructing the choreographer’s path.

“You want to go first?” Geoffrey asks.

“Yes.”

I stare fixatedly, never thinking Sergei would do that for me.

Geoffrey faces my oldest brother. “Go.”

Sergei, with all his stoicism, takes one breath, and pain grips his eyes in ways he’s never displayed before. “I hurt my brothers and sister.”

“How?” Geoffrey prods.

“I left them when they needed me,” Sergei says. “And I didn’t even hesitate.”

I stare off. I don’t want to care right now.

I don’t want to care.

But the impact behind his words rip through me, he didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t even think about us in his decision. He couldn’t have.

I hurt more for Timo. That would’ve gutted him, and I’m never repeating it. (No fucking way.) Baylee squeezes my hand, but she has to let go as Geoffrey glances at us.

He saunters down the line. Attention hot on me like a million spotlights. Before he reaches my place, Dimitri steps forward.

I expected that one.

“Dimitri,” Geoffrey says. “Go.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth before he lets out, “I was in love with my best friend’s girlfriend. Now ex-girlfriend. Tatyana.”

I didn’t know he actually loved Tatyana. By the shock on his brothers’ faces, neither did Robby or Anton.

“I not only had to watch Tatyana be with him—knowing she’d never love me—but I watched her break her leg and leave permanently for Russia.” He has to pause here, his nose flaring. “So I lost a friend too.”

Geoffrey scrutinizes his features for an extended moment. “You’re holding back.”

“I’m not,” Dimitri growls, his chest puffed out in offense.

“That’s better.” Geoffrey nods once and then eyes me. Again.

Baylee is about to step forward to the left of me, but I clench her tank and pull her back. Geoffrey will reach me no matter what. She doesn’t need to go before me.

Geoffrey faces me. “Luka.”

(What’s up, Geoffrey? Relax, dude.) I think of the sex doll in his office, and I try hard not to smile.

“Go.”

I unbury a raw place inside of me—just through my eyes. “When I was young, my girlfriend died.” I let out a heart-breaking breath, and I think I would’ve gotten away with it if Abram and Robby didn’t lean forward with shit-eating grins.

Geoffrey eyes them, brows furrowed. “You’re lying?”