Friday, June 27, 2008

A Short Story

I can't believe it! After months of thinking of nothing, my brain is spewing forth words. And these words are forming into a story. I'm finding myself unable to to type as quickly as the words are forming in my head.

So, I'm going to post a page as I finish it. For criticism. For prosperity. And just because I want to share my story!

Here goes:

The curtain was closed. The sets were up. The lights were set with the right gels. This was the night. This was the night she had waited for her whole life. To be the one. To be the star. She worked so hard to be on this stage, in this costume, in this role. Her time to shine.

Cosette stepped out from the wings and took her place in the lights. She set her arms just so. Carefully placed her perfectly pointed toe behind her. Tilted her head down in her opening pose. Just as the music began, she jutted her eyes down her body to make sure her costume was okay.

The strands of Tychovski’s “Waltz of the Sugar Plum Fairy” began to stir her heart. She stole a look to the darkened wings where her partner stood, waiting for his turn. Her heart raced with anticipation and music.

Slowly, the curtain raised. Beyond the lights was the orchestra. The finest orchestra she ever had the opportunity to perform with. The music grew slightly louder with the raising of the curtain. Beyond the orchestra lay the audience. The people that Cosette bit back pain for. Applied band-aids to her blistered toes for. Lived for. She couldn’t see any of that, though, for the stage lights were far too bright. But, she knew they were there and that was all that mattered.

Cosette took her first step. The music flowed through her like water through a stream. She could barely feel the floor beneath her feet. Every step landed perfectly. Every lift executed without a flaw. Darion’s leaps were powerful and yet, he lifted her so very gently. They moved perfectly together throughout their pas de deux, complimenting their dancing styles as though they belonged together.

When they took their final pose, the audience leapt to their feet. A thunderous applause rumbled from the darkness beyond the lights. Cosette lowered herself down from pointe, placed her leg behind her and dropped into a deep curtsy while holding Darion’s hand as he bowed. Her moment was over. They fled in to the wings to await their piece.

Once off stage, Cosette ran to her dressing room. Despite their almost perfect partnership on stage, she hated Darion with a passion. He was too pompous, too arrogant. How dare he think he was the greatest dancer on stage? What was the choreographer thinking when he paired them together? Couldn’t he see the friction?

Normally quiet and reserved, Cosette tried to raise her feelings when rehearsals began. The choreographer would hear nothing of it. So, she let it drop. And rehearsals went on. Darion was actually quite the gentleman while they were warming up, walking through their dances and dancing full on. But, out of those four walls, he was an ass. Cosette would often just pack her bag and leave quietly out the side door of the studio so as not to have to deal with the attitude that overcame him once outside the door.

Now, in the relative quiet of her dressing room, she could reflect on the dance that just occurred. She could still feel the music pulsating through her. Although she had danced several times with a live orchestra, she felt this performance to be different. Perhaps it was because she was now a soloist with the company. Perhaps. Perhaps it was a combination of the two.

An hour later, the performance was over. The audience had filed out of the theatre. The orchestra was packing up their instruments. Cosette carefully hung her costume in her room. She methodically removed her stage makeup. She removed her tights and pulled on a pair of leggings with an over sized tee shirt and slipped flip flops on her sore feet. She carefully wrapped the ribbons around her pointe shoes and placed them in her bag. Standing and hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she readied herself to leave the theatre.

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