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@inkhorn

Calliope

The girl was laughing over the prospect of Abirami having to dance. I couldn’t hide a wicked grin myself. At least this was going to be funny.

Ophelia bent over her leg splayed back, as though her spine was made of rubber and her bones of elastic. I shuddered. Even seeing her do it made me uncomfortable. It looked so unnatural, that she could move like that.

I smiled to myself as I pulled my jacket closer around me. Perhaps she wasn’t made of porcelain or plastic but of rubber. The falseness was certainly still there.

“Hi. I’m Enydd. Is there anything I can do to help you guys get ready?” The girl said, walking over to Ophelia and Jade.

Ophelia instantly flashed her one of her dazzlingly bright fake smiles, which was not in the least marred by the fact that she was practically upside-down.

“I’m Ophelia! Thanks for offering, I think I’ll be alright,” she said, with a quick laugh.

She straightened herself out and took off her jewelry, putting it in her bag.

With her perfect curls relegated to a bun and no longer wearing her sparkling pearl jewelry or too-elegant shoes, she barely looked like herself. I had never seen Ophelia dance before.

I leaned against the wall, watching her as she got up. She planted one palm against the wall and started… well… I supposed it should be dancing. It was probably some kind of warm-up still. Quick, precise motions of her feet, to the front, the side, the back. It looked so robotic. The tapping of her shoe against the floor sounded like clockwork, like the machinery of the perfect porcelain doll she was.

It was almost more unsettling than the way she seemed able to stretch a little too far.

Wait, I had seen her dance before. Once.

I seldom passed through the dance wing of the college. I only used it for shortcuts now and then.

The studio they usually used for ballet had windows that appeared to be reflective from the inside but allowed people to see in and watch. I usually didn’t stop. I knew nothing about it and had no interest in learning.

Just once, something had seemed to draw me to watch. Just a brief look, then I couldn’t look away.

Most of the dancers circled the edges of the room, but two were in the center. A slim girl with golden hair and a tall boy with dark skin. They were the only ones dancing. I recognized Ophelia from seeing her with Athena, and I knew the other must be Malcolm. It couldn’t be anyone else. I had heard of him.

I barely registered Ophelia. Malcolm didn’t demand attention, but it seemed to draw to him, like a magnet. I couldn’t quite look away.

Ophelia flitted around him like a butterfly, a bright distraction that seemed barely more than an annoyance.

It looked as though the music were following him, instead of the other way around. It was faint, the low tones seeping into the floor, more of a feeling than a sound.

His movements weren’t like Ophelias now, precise and mechanical. They were sweeping, flowing like water from one into the other with seemingly no thought or effort. It gave me goosebumps.

It gave me the same feeling as when I had seen a heron rise from the water, the wings beating the rhythm of a heartbeat. I had almost been able to feel the cold breath of its wings cut through my bones.

They swept into an ending position, and stood, frozen, like a painting. Then the spell was broken. They relaxed, the other dancers got up, started talking.

I didn’t know whether I was angry it was over or angry I had stopped to look in the first place.

The one thing I remembered clearest of that occasion was their expressions. Ophelia had looked concentrated, almost stern for her doing, but Malcolm had been smiling, almost grinning in pure delight. It was such a contrast to the careful control of his movements that it had stuck with me.

Ophelia was different now. She had that same concentrated look again, the plastic smiles gone. Now a mechanical doll instead of a porcelain one.

The motions looked so practiced they almost seemed involuntary.

Then something shifted. A quick frown, a flash of annoyance, the first I’d seen from her. She corrected something, a slight change of the angle of her leg, then kept going.

Something about the frown, the correction, made her suddenly seem human, a girl of flesh and bone instead of wire, gears, and porcelain outsides. Ophelia had always seemed fake to me, but this time, there were no pretenses. She had practically forgotten we were here. I had never thought I’d see a glimpse of the real Ophelia.

I frowned, but she seemed not to notice me in the least. Everything seemed to have disappeared around her.

The real question now was, why was she so determined to hide her real self beneath layers of falseness? I didn’t think I’d ever understand that girl.

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I had another idea and I had to post it really quick XD

I feel so bad for Ophelia, even as the writer who planned all of this 😭 It makes me sad to see how she’s the POV character but plays the side character in everyone else’s story.

Also it makes me happy every time I get to write about Malcolm 🥰