The Show Must go on || A Night to Remember (OPEN) Sept 1, 2013 17:19:57 GMT -8
Post by Lyudmila Stechkin on Sept 1, 2013 17:19:57 GMT -8
March 3, 2021
This wasn't Mila's first time playing at the big concert hall in uptown gotham, and it likely would not be her last, but still her knees shook and the feeling in the pit of her stomach was akin to jumping off a cliff. Her name was up in lights at the front of the hall. The hall itself was done up very prettily for her. Green curtains hung up near the front of the stage, instead of the usual scarlet ones, and the lights were dimmed. The building was steeped in shadow and at the catwalks, the lights twinkled on and off making the ceiling into a carpet of stars. On the back wall of the stage they'd be projecting a crescent moon that rose and fell as the show progressed.
At seven, the doors would open and people would be flooding in. The dancers were busily being prepped, costumers and makeup artists turning them this way and that like dolls, making sure that they were perfect. Mila had done her own dressing, and she'd applied her own makeup. A black dress hung off her left shoulder, hugging her about the hips and chest, opening up as it flowed down around her legs. Silver sequins dotted the ruffles at the bottom of the dress, making it look as though she's dressed in a waterfall of stars.
Mila sat stiffly in the front row, waiting for the curtains to open. When the curtains pulled back, the chair in the center of the stage would be empty. Her violin would lean against the side, her bow across the seat. The lights would dim, and she would stand. The girl, all in black, would walk ghost-like up the stairs and the lights would pan up her graceful form. The sequins would sparkle and dazzle, and as she took her seat the dancers would tread silently onto the stage. At the first rasp of her bow across the strings, a barely audible applause emanated from the audience.
As she played on, the dancers began to circle her, prowling like wolves stalking prey. A decrescendo to pianissimo, the tempo slowing, the beasts closing in. Mila's eyes were closed tightly, her body gently swaying in time with the music. She smiled, just the edges of her mouth, as she began to play through the crescendo. As the tempo quickened and the beasts surrounded her completely, a lone man entered stage left. With a heavy rifle in his hand and a fur coat about his shoulders, he took aim at the beasts and fired. The loud crack that echoed through the theatre was punctuated by the crowd's gasp as Mila began to sing.
"In the winter, nights are long and cold
But you and I are together
So we are warm."
Another gunshot rings out, and a beast falls to the ground amid an explosion of red streamers.
"A wolf's howl chills me to the bone
But you kiss my neck and tell me
We'll be fine."
The beasts start to flee off the stage, the music fading away as gunshots rang out. As the man sank to his knees, then to his hands, and finally fell, Mila caressed the last note lovingly from her strings, standing and walking over to him as she did so. Kneeling next to him, she set the instrument down and pulled his head into her lap. She gently stroked his hair as the curtain closed.