Drabble: Carmen.
Nov. 23rd, 2015 06:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misskarin_ebz[Takes place the 18th of November]
The air is full of nervous anticipation and a touch of dazzling magic tonight. Opening Night. Now the hours of rehearsal, heated arguments, costume catastrophes had and resolved, divas throwing temper tantrums, musicians practicing until their fingers bleed - the whole casts determination and hard work to make this the grandest most enjoyable affair ever - is going to be put to the test. Carmen. Premiere.
The theater is quickly filling up with music lovers, socialites, the odd bohemian who’s managed to save up enough echos or charmed one of the cast into getting free tickets. There’s a promise of great entertainment to be had. There’s stars going to perform. It will be magnificent or there will be a riot.
In her loge a nervous leading lady is pacing the floor, face ashen, limbs filled with dread. She hates this so much, there’s nothing worse than this, why does she do this to herself? Stage-fright - a hundred times worse than when she performs at the hall. Still bad even after her success with La Bohème. Ugh.
But of course it all goes swimmingly. Every single one of them performing at the top of their ability. The music is exquisite. The acting sublime. The singing out of this world. And when the curtains drop after the last call it’s with a tremendous relief and bubbling joy the lady takes a deep deep breath and lets it all wash over her. Success. Yet again.
Tired, exhausted even, she returns to her loge to transform back to herself. There’s already flowers, both paper, silk and fresh surface ones, filling up the cramped space. Well wishes from friends, admirers, lovers, family - it makes her tear up a bit and it does make her heart sing clearer, louder and more perfect than she herself could despite her talents.
And it reminds her that this is why she does this. This is why performing is her life. She wouldn't give it up for the world.
The air is full of nervous anticipation and a touch of dazzling magic tonight. Opening Night. Now the hours of rehearsal, heated arguments, costume catastrophes had and resolved, divas throwing temper tantrums, musicians practicing until their fingers bleed - the whole casts determination and hard work to make this the grandest most enjoyable affair ever - is going to be put to the test. Carmen. Premiere.
The theater is quickly filling up with music lovers, socialites, the odd bohemian who’s managed to save up enough echos or charmed one of the cast into getting free tickets. There’s a promise of great entertainment to be had. There’s stars going to perform. It will be magnificent or there will be a riot.
In her loge a nervous leading lady is pacing the floor, face ashen, limbs filled with dread. She hates this so much, there’s nothing worse than this, why does she do this to herself? Stage-fright - a hundred times worse than when she performs at the hall. Still bad even after her success with La Bohème. Ugh.
But of course it all goes swimmingly. Every single one of them performing at the top of their ability. The music is exquisite. The acting sublime. The singing out of this world. And when the curtains drop after the last call it’s with a tremendous relief and bubbling joy the lady takes a deep deep breath and lets it all wash over her. Success. Yet again.
Tired, exhausted even, she returns to her loge to transform back to herself. There’s already flowers, both paper, silk and fresh surface ones, filling up the cramped space. Well wishes from friends, admirers, lovers, family - it makes her tear up a bit and it does make her heart sing clearer, louder and more perfect than she herself could despite her talents.
And it reminds her that this is why she does this. This is why performing is her life. She wouldn't give it up for the world.
