Walking up the stone steps to the theater Michael was suddenly aware of the ruckus his heart was making in his chest. It had been at least four years since they had last seen each other and all he could remember was their goodbye. That kiss on the cheek and the tears that had come after. Of course he had been young then, and what did that matter when they 17 now. But there were those letters over the years, it didn't seem like anything changed. Billy was still that same goofy, brave kid. And Michael was…well he didn't know what he was in more than one way.

When he reached the shining double doors he stopped taking a deep breath. After adjusting his worn and patched "Sunday best" and glaring at his scuffed shoes he walked through. Immediately he was engulfed in to a crowded room full of people dressed in suits and gowns. Feeling horribly under dressed Michael made his way into an empty corner. From there he could get the full picture of the room. Along the walls were framed posters of the Royal Ballet School, most picturing Billy. It was then that Michael realized this was really the first time he had seen how Billy looked after all these years. His dirty blonde hair was longer now, and he was taller, more filled out. His arms especially, from lifting all the ballerinas Michael guessed. Michael looked into his reflection of a nearby window. His own arms were thin, matching the rest of his lanky body. Plain black hair and brown eyes stared back at him. Michael looked around the room again and couldn't help but feel inferior. He was just from a little miner's town; these people were most likely all from London. Before his embarrassment and jealously could grow, the lights flickered signaling for the people to file into the theater. Trying not to bump into the growing crowd, Michael made his way to the usher taking tickets who gave him a look suggesting he didn't belong there.