[Glimpse, Downtime] That's Show Biz
Mar 15, 2021 11:38:51 GMT -8
Lucas Chevalier, Wayland, and 1 more like this
Post by Riley Sorsa on Mar 15, 2021 11:38:51 GMT -8
“What are you doing!?”
The voice cut into their focus like a bull horn. Their balance shifted, tilted and pun to the side as the momentum of the surprise sent them to the side. RIley spread their arms like wings to catch the sudden change and direction, their heels teetered for a moment risking them rolling their axle.
“Sorry It won't happen again” Riley said, trying to hold their ego in line and keep their voice calm.
Maya was giving them a seething glare, the others in the troupe had paused. The music for the number is still preceding in the background.
“Get your shit together Sorsa” Maya growled, her tone obviously frustrated at the new member of the troupe.
Riley ran their hand through their hair. The were hot, the lights of the stage and the routine had brought them to a sweat. Maya’s endless critique was just making their discomfort worse.
“Look-”
“Look nothing. This isn't some back alley strip club. A sweet ass and a few half assed twerks isn't enough. Get. It. Together.”
Riley pushed open the door to the rehearsal studio, throwing their bag across the smooth wooden floor into the corner. The others looked over, their eyes locked on the late member of the Troupe.
“You're late Sorsa”
“I know I’m so-”
“This isn't the clubs, when you're late, we all are late. Please respect our time and see it doesn't happen again” The choreographer spoke, in a matter of fact tone. It cut worse than any scalding.
“Ye-yes” Riley muttered, taking their spot in the back of the troupe. The others looked away turning to the wall of mirrors. Their eyes fell upon the array of dancers. Clad in their work out clothes, and all wearing heels that would threaten to break mosts peoples ankles. Riley tossed as side their jacket and quickly put on their heels to join the ranks.
These were artists, in all forms, shapes and sizes. Powerful, beautiful. The moth felt like an imposter in their ranks.
They felt the same.
They Chattered amongst one another, closing their wardrobes, cleaning up their makeup stations. Riley listened, they spoke of their lives, work, plans for the weekend. Sometimes the Darkling could hear them speak about them, hushed whispers, judging glances. They were a stranger, an intruder in their community.
Tonight they were going out for drinks, and to see a show that was opening down on the strip. Supporting other artists, and their community. It sounded like they had gotten free tickets. Riley glanced over from their makeup station, as they were whipping away their eyeliner.
The posse had gathered up their gym bags and were heading for the door. Laughter, inside jokes and playful voices heralded their exit. The light went out, and Riley flinched. A moment later it turned back on again.
“Didn't see you there,” Laura said from the door.
“It’s fine.” Riley said flashing a smile. It was enough just to be noticed.
“Don't worry about the light. I’ll clean up and lock up” The moth offered.
Laura paused as if to say something but then decided against it “Don't forget the alarm”
Their reputation was in tatters.
The scandal had seen to that. Sure Riley’s name was on more lips than usual in the entertainment world. Their name was starting to be recognized, heard, seen catching the attention in the circut.
But in the troupe, on this stage, this show? Riley’s name was muddied, and with it hushed whispers, assumptions and accusations.
Bribery.
Backroom deals.
Slut.
The scandal was kept mostly within the troupe, but it was not air tight. Rumors spread like a leak of stagnate water. Leaving its vile sent in its wake. The moth knew they had much to do to save their growing name.
Swallow your pride.
The Twilight dancer knew they were at the bottom. This wasn't the Gentlemen clubs, or the parties, this wasn't the stages at the bars, or small time cabaret. This was the big stage, the bright lights, the auditoriums. The darkling had been trusted from the small pond into the big lake, and they had to learn to swim or drown.
So they swallowed their pride.
Each day Riley showed up a little earlier, till they were the first to arrive. They would unlock the studio, organize the props, sweep the floors. Then they would wait for the others. At the end of the day they were the last to leave, locking up cleaning the dressing room. Small efforts, small gestures.
All while listening, they listened to the words spoken amongst the troupe. They observed the relationships in their kaleidoscope of complexity. How each of these artists were tied to one another. They watched each for their talents, what made them tick, what they loved and hated. The moth could not participate, cut from the others by their suspicions, so they listened and waited.
They wanted their efforts to be recognized, Riley yearned for the spoken gratitude, a nod of recognition. It never came. This was not enough in their eyes, this was not the extra mile, this was the bare minimum. The expected.
It tasted bitter, but they swallowed it. They bore the cutting words, and the judging looks. Some days are easier than others. Some nights they went home on range to scream and cry. Other nights they wanted to drink or to wander the streets for the distraction of a party. Sometimes they wanted nothing more than to hear Dani’s voice and watch a stupid show, be lost in a kiss.
Other nights, they couldn't stop. They had to dance, practice, train. Become worthy of the role they stole. To prove they had a place among them, a place in the light.
So the days passed, and each day they watched, listened and learned. They poked and prodded at the social boundaries placed before them. All while searching for that chance, that opportunity to make this right.
The voice cut into their focus like a bull horn. Their balance shifted, tilted and pun to the side as the momentum of the surprise sent them to the side. RIley spread their arms like wings to catch the sudden change and direction, their heels teetered for a moment risking them rolling their axle.
“Sorry It won't happen again” Riley said, trying to hold their ego in line and keep their voice calm.
Maya was giving them a seething glare, the others in the troupe had paused. The music for the number is still preceding in the background.
“Get your shit together Sorsa” Maya growled, her tone obviously frustrated at the new member of the troupe.
Riley ran their hand through their hair. The were hot, the lights of the stage and the routine had brought them to a sweat. Maya’s endless critique was just making their discomfort worse.
“Look-”
“Look nothing. This isn't some back alley strip club. A sweet ass and a few half assed twerks isn't enough. Get. It. Together.”
Riley pushed open the door to the rehearsal studio, throwing their bag across the smooth wooden floor into the corner. The others looked over, their eyes locked on the late member of the Troupe.
“You're late Sorsa”
“I know I’m so-”
“This isn't the clubs, when you're late, we all are late. Please respect our time and see it doesn't happen again” The choreographer spoke, in a matter of fact tone. It cut worse than any scalding.
“Ye-yes” Riley muttered, taking their spot in the back of the troupe. The others looked away turning to the wall of mirrors. Their eyes fell upon the array of dancers. Clad in their work out clothes, and all wearing heels that would threaten to break mosts peoples ankles. Riley tossed as side their jacket and quickly put on their heels to join the ranks.
These were artists, in all forms, shapes and sizes. Powerful, beautiful. The moth felt like an imposter in their ranks.
They felt the same.
They Chattered amongst one another, closing their wardrobes, cleaning up their makeup stations. Riley listened, they spoke of their lives, work, plans for the weekend. Sometimes the Darkling could hear them speak about them, hushed whispers, judging glances. They were a stranger, an intruder in their community.
Tonight they were going out for drinks, and to see a show that was opening down on the strip. Supporting other artists, and their community. It sounded like they had gotten free tickets. Riley glanced over from their makeup station, as they were whipping away their eyeliner.
The posse had gathered up their gym bags and were heading for the door. Laughter, inside jokes and playful voices heralded their exit. The light went out, and Riley flinched. A moment later it turned back on again.
“Didn't see you there,” Laura said from the door.
“It’s fine.” Riley said flashing a smile. It was enough just to be noticed.
“Don't worry about the light. I’ll clean up and lock up” The moth offered.
Laura paused as if to say something but then decided against it “Don't forget the alarm”
Their reputation was in tatters.
The scandal had seen to that. Sure Riley’s name was on more lips than usual in the entertainment world. Their name was starting to be recognized, heard, seen catching the attention in the circut.
But in the troupe, on this stage, this show? Riley’s name was muddied, and with it hushed whispers, assumptions and accusations.
Bribery.
Backroom deals.
Slut.
The scandal was kept mostly within the troupe, but it was not air tight. Rumors spread like a leak of stagnate water. Leaving its vile sent in its wake. The moth knew they had much to do to save their growing name.
Swallow your pride.
The Twilight dancer knew they were at the bottom. This wasn't the Gentlemen clubs, or the parties, this wasn't the stages at the bars, or small time cabaret. This was the big stage, the bright lights, the auditoriums. The darkling had been trusted from the small pond into the big lake, and they had to learn to swim or drown.
So they swallowed their pride.
Each day Riley showed up a little earlier, till they were the first to arrive. They would unlock the studio, organize the props, sweep the floors. Then they would wait for the others. At the end of the day they were the last to leave, locking up cleaning the dressing room. Small efforts, small gestures.
All while listening, they listened to the words spoken amongst the troupe. They observed the relationships in their kaleidoscope of complexity. How each of these artists were tied to one another. They watched each for their talents, what made them tick, what they loved and hated. The moth could not participate, cut from the others by their suspicions, so they listened and waited.
They wanted their efforts to be recognized, Riley yearned for the spoken gratitude, a nod of recognition. It never came. This was not enough in their eyes, this was not the extra mile, this was the bare minimum. The expected.
It tasted bitter, but they swallowed it. They bore the cutting words, and the judging looks. Some days are easier than others. Some nights they went home on range to scream and cry. Other nights they wanted to drink or to wander the streets for the distraction of a party. Sometimes they wanted nothing more than to hear Dani’s voice and watch a stupid show, be lost in a kiss.
Other nights, they couldn't stop. They had to dance, practice, train. Become worthy of the role they stole. To prove they had a place among them, a place in the light.
So the days passed, and each day they watched, listened and learned. They poked and prodded at the social boundaries placed before them. All while searching for that chance, that opportunity to make this right.
