Chapter 1 + 2

ONE

Just after she entered the conference hall, the doors were closed behind her. She was late. And it wasn’t the first time. In fact, it was more like a structural thing. She didn’t do it on purpose and although the staff would probably disagree, it wasn’t a matter of disinterest either. It was just one of her flaws. One of many according to Lodinski, the head chorographer and one of the most important men within the New York City Ballet. Yet he had given up trying to change her. It took him a while, but eventually he started to realise that he needed her more than she needed him. He now knew she is the star of the company and that people came to see her. And as long as she brought them a lot of money, he just let her be. She was a big mystery to everyone, but that is also what made her fascinating for so many people. That and her beauty, or that’s what he told her anyway.

With an amount of gracefulness only a ballerina could pull off when in haste, she ran down the stairs. She found an empty seat on the third row, next to Yasmin, a soliste. The whole company only occupied the first twelve rows of the big conference room. Only eighty seats were taken by actual dancers, and Georgia was the only Prima Ballerina. Not just in the room, but also in all of the USA. In the whole world there was only one other girl who earned the honourable and rare title, somewhere is Russia. But according to the critics Georgia even left that girl far behind, and compliments in the ballet world were very uncommon so she chose to believe it.

She exchanged a smile with Yasmin and then took a look at the stage. She saw a stool, a microphone stand and a black acoustic guitar. Georgia didn’t know who was coming to speak to them but it had to be a musician. Which was weird because she thought this was supposed to be a motivational talk for the fundraiser they were having that night. Every year the ballet would go on a get-away somewhere in the USA. It was supposed to be a relaxed teambuilding get-away and on the first night they would organise a benefit for one particular foundation. This year they were residing in Chicago for six days and even though they only arrived that morning, she already had enough of it. The guitar however, made her believe that this could be interesting for a change. She loved everything that had to do with art of any kind. She loved to see other artists do their job and hear them talk about their beliefs and passion. Whether it was a poet, a painter, an actor, a dancer or a musician. And neither did she care about whether it was a famous name or some obscure local talent. She was interested in everybody who felt what she felt. A poet needed his words to survive like she needed to dance. The basic idea was the same.

“Who do you think is coming?” Yasmin suddenly said and she looked up. She couldn’t say she had many real friends within the company but she considered Yasmin one of them. Being given the title she had, she wasn’t really popular and the ballet world wasn’t a very bright and happy place to begin with.

She thought about it to see if she knew any musicians in Chicago but couldn’t think of one. “I don’t know," she replied.

“I’ve heard Bon Jovi are in town. Apparently they are playing two nights at the United Center.”

She nodded her head and before she could reply Yasmin added: “I don’t think they are into philanthropy though…”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not very into Bon Jovi to be honest, so I don’t know what they are up to. The only thing we have in common is New Jersey.”

Yasmin giggled. “Does that mean you feel that Jersey pride whenever you hear them on the radio?”

She laughed. “I don’t even know half their songs. I remember seeing him in a store in New Jersey once though, and I then learned that I didn’t even have to care because all other women in the room cared enough for the whole country.”

Yasmin shook her head. “That’s so you to not to be impressed when you run into Jon Bon Jovi. You have to admit he’s kind of hot though.”

“Maybe, but he’s also about twice our age.”

She was sure that Yasmin would have made a comment about that if the lights in the room hadn’t dimmed at that point.

A man in tight blue jeans and a black button-down shirt walked on stage. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt back to his elbows and left the top three buttons open, to show a black and silver necklace that rested against his slightly hairy chest. Hands in his pocket. She recognised him straight away, but if she hadn’t, the yelling girls would have confirmed it for her. Yasmin was right. That was Jon Bon Jovi. And she was also right about another thing. He was beautiful.

 When he stepped forward and reached for the microphone she was sure he looked right at her, just a little longer than necessary. It confused her. More than his presence did. But the  moment was over before she had a chance to think about it and he started to talk.

“Thank you for being here,” he said in a thicker Jersey accent than she’d expected. “I appreciate it and I would also like the NYC Ballet staff for picking the Soul Foundation for their benefit, this year, we really appreciate that.” He continued  to talk about the foundation for a while, which apparently belonged to him and he did it with a certain amount of arrogance. Yet in a way that made her believe he had every right to talk that way.

After ten minutes his speech about the foundation was done. To make that clear he stepped further towards the edge of the stage and looked around. “So… is there anyone here from Jersey?”

She was the only one. In fact the company was a mixture of so many cultures and countries that she didn’t think she could even name all of them if she tried. Apart from her there was Yasmin from Philadelphia and about three others from the south and west coast but that was it. Even the staff was from all over the globe. So even if she had chosen not to raise her hand, which she preferred, all the others gave it away by staring at her. So she lifted her hand unwillingly, forcing him to look at her again.

Jon looked at the girl, the woman, on the third row in surprise. Even though the shadow in the dark room tried to hide her, the stage lights showed him that she was unearthly beautiful. She had a porcelain white skin and the soft contours of her face made her lips look even bigger. She put her long honey blonde hair together in a tight ponytail at the back of her head and she stared at him with a pair of big light eyes. She answered the question he barely realised he asked with a soft and feminine but confident voice. “Flemington,” she said, but while he was looking at her he completely lost where he was going with it. So he changed the subject smoothly by asking the group to ask him things. Hands were raised and he forced himself to point at someone else. “You, at the back,” he said, annoyed with himself. What the fuck was that all about?

TWO

“I was told you are the star of the NYC ballet…” she gasped as he suddenly popped up behind her. She couldn’t see him as she just picked up her drink from the bar but you just couldn’t misinterpret that Jersey accent. When she turned around he stood there looking at her with a faint smile on his lips and a drink in his right hand. He was wearing the same blue jeans he wore that afternoon but he changed his shirt for a black t-shirt with a small v-neck.

“Told by who?” she said, not showing him any sign of recognition or admiration because she believed he already got enough of that.

He made a gesture with his finger, pointing at the room. “By everybody in this place, so tell me, what do you have to do to become so good at ballet?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Thinking about a career switch?”

He raised his free hand in defence. “I’m just asking out of interest, what are you so fed up about?”

“I hate this shit,” she said and she was sure she saw a light smile on his lips. “But it’s what I chose to do and it comes with the title I earned. And since you asked… I earned it by working hard for it ever since I was ten years old. I don’t think there’s another way.”

Unintentionally he looked in Lodinski’s direction but Georgia wisely chose not to mention it. She figured that probably everybody in the business knew that guys reputation.  She just hoped that mister rock star would be smart enough to see she was not one of those girls.

While he tried to keep the conversation going he took the chance to give her a closer look. He hated to be there as much as she did. The only difference was that you couldn’t tell by looking at him, as much as you could by looking at her. After so many years in the business he had learned to know better. Besides, the New York City Ballet benefits were known for raising an awful lot of money, so it was for good cause that he showed up. And maybe he had hoped to run into this girl again as well. Although at this point he started to wonder why as the conversation was not going very smoothly. He made a few misjudgements that he could see she didn’t appreciate and she gave him a hard time figuring out what she actually was like by not telling him anything he did not ask for.

“Alright,” he said at one point. “This is going great, I think we both need some fresh air and I need a cigarette, why don’t you join me for a walk?”

She was surprised that he was putting so much effort in it. She hadn’t exactly been the nicest person and she was sure all other people in the room were far more willing to talk to him than she was. In fact, she couldn’t care less who she was talking to at that point. No matter how good he looked and no matter how famous he was. She just wanted to get the hell out of there and smoke a cigarette. So when he suggested to go for a walk, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do that.  And it was up to him whether he wanted to come or not.

“I’d like it better if you offer me a cigarette,” she told him. His eyes widened in surprise. “I thought dancers like you weren’t allowed to smoke.”

“I thought cigarettes weren’t the best for your voice either.” He chuckled.

“I try quitting at the start of every tour, but then I get bored and give in. I did so many tours on nicotine that my body will probably protest if I start doing them without.”

She nodded. “So just to recap, you think I am a dancer with a passion for classical music and an eating disorder who fucks her teacher for more attention and can’t smoke because of what she does. And I think you are an arrogant singer who overestimates himself due to too much attention from hysterical drooling female fans. I don’t know about you but I’ve made better and definitely more accurate first impressions.”

He was able to hide his quiet laugh by taking a quick sip from his drink and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Is that what you think caused my attitude?” He could see the amusement on her face despite that she tried to hide it from him, as he pretended to miss the point of what she said.

“What else could it be? Let me guess… the millions on your back account or is it the amount of records you’ve sold?”

“I’m a man of big numbers, alright…” he said and even in the semi dark he could see her roll her eyes at him. He chuckled. “So let’s get the hell out of here then, or they will start before we get back.”

Outside she immediately started to feel better. It was a clear warm night and the stars were out. He handed her a cigarette and lit it for her before he leaned back against the wall next to the fire escape and looked out over the hotel parking lot.

“So, let’s start over, what is your name?”

She thankfully blew out some smoke and came standing beside him. She felt the warm bricks against her bare back and through the fabric of her thin silk evening dress.

“I’m Georgia,” she told him.

“Georgia,” he repeated, trying the sound of her name before he nodded.

“I’m glad that got your approval,” she said but this time she smiled. She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know who he was because that would be silly, so she simply didn’t ask for it.

“So what brought  you to Chicago, Georgia? Is it just this benefit?”

She told him about the annual trips with the ballet and how she didn’t see the point of it. “And what about you?” she then asked, glad she could finally ask him something she didn’t already know the answer to.

“We’re doing two back-to-back shows at the United Center, starting the day after tomorrow, but we came here early to enjoy some time off.”

“You must be thrilled having to spend the first night here at the benefit then,” she said and he chuckled. “It’s for a good cause and my bed is near so I can get out whenever the hell I want.”

She assumed that meant he was staying in the same hotel as her but she didn’t ask. He did a few more attempts to get her to talk but they were weak. Although better than most guys’ attempts, she had to give him that.

However, she decided it was time for him to wake up.

 “Listen, Jon, let’s not waste our time on this and let’s clear the air. If you want to have sex with me then just admit it so we can go on.”

Her comment surprised him so much that he coughed, but he managed to mask it with a laugh. He thought he was doing a good job hiding it from her as much as from himself, but apparently he was wrong. He was getting too old for this game, and he didn’t even want to play it, so he decided to be honest with her, like she asked him to.

 “Yes, Georgia, I'd love to fuck you, that is the problem, because it ain’t gonna happen.” He looked as serious as ever and so was she when she replied.

“No…” she said and she stubbed her cigarette out against the wall. “It’s not.” Then she turned around and walked back to the door. Leaving Jon behind. And he looked at her until she disappeared, knowing that no matter what he would have said, her answer would have remained the same.

“No it’s not gonna happen.”