The new guy - Channing, the new guy's name is Channing - is an ox of a man who is surprisingly - or not so surprisingly given that they're a ballet company - flexible and light on his feet.
There's a dress code, like all companies, for rehearsal, and it's the same one that ballet schools and companies all over the world adhere to: black leotard with pink tights and pink shoes or white tee with black tights and shoes. The only difference is that since they're an all-male company, there are no gender restrictions. Jamie, for one, wears the pink and black as often as he wears the white and black. Channing never wears pink.
Jamie hasn't figured out yet if Channing's gay. Just because they're all male ballet dancers doesn't mean they're all gay. (Their male patrons, yes. There was one, when Jamie was young, who taught him what it was to be seduced.) Jamie likes to stand behind him at the barre and surreptitiously watch his ass as he pliés.
Jamie finally gets a chance to talk to him when they're stretching one morning. "You're pretty good," Jamie says. "What made you join this company?"
Channing, bent double, one leg tucked in, one out, stretching his hips, turns his head to look at Jamie. "More chance for stage time."
Jamie lets his gaze roam over Channing's body. "You're good enough to get stage time."
"Maybe." Channing switches legs. "But I'm too big to be an easy match with a ballerina and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life doing the Arabian."
Jamie makes a face at him. "You're white."
"That's what makes it worse." After a moment Channing asks, "What about you?"
Jamie shrugs. "Too small to do the lifts. At least this way I have a chance at a starring role."
"Hmm, yeah." Channing looks him over. Jamie would like to think Channing's checking him out, but it might just be professional interest. "You're small enough to be lifted. I'll never be Clara." He smiles, sudden and mischievous. "Maybe the Sugar Plum Fairy."