Chapter 154 Click, click
Ballerinas in half laced bodices. Ballerinas draped in dressing robes. Ballerinas with hair set in large-barrel rollers, faces masked with half-blended concealer and stark highlights along the nose.
In our various stages of half-done glamour, we formed a circle around outraged Tamar and condescending Celeste.
“There’s no need to create such a ruckus over your client’s inability to perform.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t even understand what you are doing here.”
Her voice was cold, loud.
“Lys Grunder isn't the only one with a manager. You don’t see the others hanging around, do you?”
Tamar’s head jerked back as if she had been slapped. And in a heartbeat, I understood the conflict. Celeste… had pulled some strings yet again. She was responsible for this press problem.
Coach had come to stand behind the crowd now.
“Tamar, please,” I said in a rush and held her arm, my back to Celeste. “There’s no point arguing with her.”
“The hell there is,” Tamar fired. “I'll file a claim with the board. Celeste Rosamund is a danger to you. What sort of person plays on their colleague’s trauma? This….” her eyes flashed. “This has crossed the line.”
“You’d better have proof of these allegations.” Celeste closed the distance, nearly pressing me between them. All around us, our dance team and crew alike exchanged harsh whispers. “You can’t go around throwing baseless accusations that could damage my reputation. Not without consequences.”
“Celeste!” I spun, tilting at the limit of my patience, with her, with my sister.
In the past few days, I managed to save them both from death at the hands of my men. But they painfully seemed determined to die. If Mordaine heard about this… My pulse spiked.
But Celeste was apparently on a roll, gesturing as she spoke, “...think this place is some daycare where we hold hands and sing? This is a freaking job, and if you cannot fulfill your role, return to your hotel room. Second nights exist for this reason.”
My lip curled up in a smirk at that. Without another word, I walked away, making straight for the dressing room.
I apologized to the glam team as I re-took my seat. And when I caught their uncertain eyes in the mirror, I nodded for them to continue with my hair.
The thought of it alone was unnerving. My palms were damp with sweat, and my hands trembled in my lap. But I sustained a deep breathing exercise, reassuring myself that I could do this. Several people have beaten their phobias in the past.
I could too.
A fitting payback for Celeste’s cruelty was to crush her dreams beneath my ballet slippers. For the longest, her dream has been principal ballerina rank. Unfortunately, she has been stuck as an understudy for longer than three years at this point. But this also meant she was often Second Night who knew all my choreography.
She could replace me in case of emergency. And she just manufactured that emergency.
This was the limit. She had abused my patience and empathy for too long. I would walk barefooted over hot coals before I let her replace me in any of my performances.
Tamar walked into the glam team finishing my hair. But her face remained unchanged at the turn of events, and then made her exit with that professional scowl and determined walk.
I fawned over my dress to take my mind off my nervousness as I sat alone to wait. A close-fitted bodice flowed into a firm skirt that opened an umbrella. And tracing the skirt was an embroidered pattern with gold thread.
It had never mattered to Meridian House that its dancers were often too high up in the air for the audience to appreciate the stunning details of our dresses. They made sure we performed in stunning dresses.
When I looked in the mirror, a fairy stared back at me and a sad smile crossed my face at the thought of Hale.
I glanced at the door and my courage from earlier faltered. Could I really pull this off? What if I freaked out on the stage and made a fool of myself?
Or worse, fall again.
The door opened then, and Coach bent his head around the crack. His smile was sad when our eyes met. “Are you sure?”
My enthusiastic nod betrayed nothing of the knots in my belly.
He mirrored my nod, “Come on out then, it's time.”
In the glass elevator made to carry us to our performance platform, I struggled to remain still, to breathe through my lips and not trigger any of my recent supernatural changes.
Coach stole occasional glances at me, but made no comments till the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.
Ballerinas were already in position away from the arched window. They were clad in long ribbons of green silk, and I knew when the lights went out, they would appear ghostly.
Our rigger appeared and gave me an encouraging nod. Interesting, word truly spreads fast.
I gave him a genuine smile and stood still as he fixed metal hooks to the harnesses already strapped below my rib cage, around my hips and the very top of my thighs, all concealed under my dress.
He left, and I walked down the ranks of ballerinas in formation, feeling like I was marching into actual war. At the other side of the stage, I could hear the soft murmurs of voices, the lone sound of a violin and I imagined them socializing as they waited.
“Twelve minutes.” Coach squeezed my arm reassuringly.
“Twelve minutes.” I nodded.
He turned, “Expect the flashlights, that way you'll not be caught unaware.” and then he was gone.
My heart was thudding now, and I had the strong urge to run and hide. But one look at Celeste just behind me and my spine hardened.
She was waiting. Even now she was waiting, her eyes so watery from her fierce expectation that she looked a heartbeat away from crying.
I thought of Mordaine just as the LED timer to my left began the countdown. That dragon took me to that ice rink just for this purpose, to take my mind off my fight with Hale, so I did not botch this performance.
And if he was my ballet master… he would neither pet me nor negotiate with me. He would either snap Celeste’s neck. Or he would force me to defeat my fear.
The timer went off, the lights went out, and a hush fell among the audience as the piercing sound from the orchestra sliced through the courtyard.
I got into character, relaxing my body, letting my limbs hang loosely.
A sea of eyes stared up at the wall. Ministers, diplomats, princes and royals, small as children from this height.
I could see myself through their eyes. In the near darkness, I must have looked like just another prop against the wall.
That was when the flashlights went off. Harsh, blinding, like a thousand silver-colored fireworks.
Click,
click,
click.