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Oct. 30th, 2005 03:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skygiantsThe first act finale ends up with a grand, extended note from the wind section; as the curtain begins to descend, Meg notices that one of the bassoons is out of tune, and fights to keep the wince off her face as she holds her final pose.
Finally, the red velvet brushes the wooden stage, and Meg can get both feet on the floor. She makes her way off stage right, sending a group of extras in elaborate false armor clanking furiously as she ducks through them, and finally reaches a backstage nook to stretch in. Perhaps for once she'll manage to get through all the stretches before someone else finds it; it takes twice as long to fully stretch when you're trying to avoid someone else's legs half a foot away, and Meg likes having that extra time before the show starts again to circulate and hear if anything interesting happened while she and the other ballerinas were intent on their pliers and arabesques.
She doesn't really expect anything interesting has happened, of course. It's been a fairly uneventful show. In fact, it's been a fairly uneventful few weeks; except for the time that one bassoonist dropped his instrument and nearly broke the arm of a nearby oboeist, nothing unusual has happened at all. No mysteriously falling pieces of scenery, no ominous notes, no bodies in the rafters -
"Meg!"
Jammes' piercing voice scatters Meg's thoughts; the other girl squeezes in next to her, and immediately begins her stretches, chattering eagerly.
"Have you heard? There's going to be a ball, a costume ball, and we're all invited, and -"
"Bien sur," Meg interrupts, taking a step back. She's nearly done her stretches, at least, and she's not going to get a chance to do much more, with Jammes taking up half the space; she may as well join in the gossip. "My mother told me before the show. She's already got my costume picked out and everything, you know what she's like -"
"Oui," Jammes says impatiently, "but have you heard the rest? About the invitations?" Taking Meg's pause as an answer, she continues, full speed ahead. "They printed them up, only enough for the invited patrons, it's to be very selective, and everyone's name on them, only last time they checked there was one more than there should have been - and instead of a name, it said "Un Ange" on it, can you imagine? They didn't know what to do with it -"
Meg opens her mouth, but before she can respond, her mother's harsh voice cuts through the backstage noise. "Places, one minute! Allez-vous-en, girls, we do not have all day!"
- "I'll talk to you later," Meg says to Jammes with a sigh, and heads back in the direction of the stage.
It looks like intermission is over.
Finally, the red velvet brushes the wooden stage, and Meg can get both feet on the floor. She makes her way off stage right, sending a group of extras in elaborate false armor clanking furiously as she ducks through them, and finally reaches a backstage nook to stretch in. Perhaps for once she'll manage to get through all the stretches before someone else finds it; it takes twice as long to fully stretch when you're trying to avoid someone else's legs half a foot away, and Meg likes having that extra time before the show starts again to circulate and hear if anything interesting happened while she and the other ballerinas were intent on their pliers and arabesques.
She doesn't really expect anything interesting has happened, of course. It's been a fairly uneventful show. In fact, it's been a fairly uneventful few weeks; except for the time that one bassoonist dropped his instrument and nearly broke the arm of a nearby oboeist, nothing unusual has happened at all. No mysteriously falling pieces of scenery, no ominous notes, no bodies in the rafters -
"Meg!"
Jammes' piercing voice scatters Meg's thoughts; the other girl squeezes in next to her, and immediately begins her stretches, chattering eagerly.
"Have you heard? There's going to be a ball, a costume ball, and we're all invited, and -"
"Bien sur," Meg interrupts, taking a step back. She's nearly done her stretches, at least, and she's not going to get a chance to do much more, with Jammes taking up half the space; she may as well join in the gossip. "My mother told me before the show. She's already got my costume picked out and everything, you know what she's like -"
"Oui," Jammes says impatiently, "but have you heard the rest? About the invitations?" Taking Meg's pause as an answer, she continues, full speed ahead. "They printed them up, only enough for the invited patrons, it's to be very selective, and everyone's name on them, only last time they checked there was one more than there should have been - and instead of a name, it said "Un Ange" on it, can you imagine? They didn't know what to do with it -"
Meg opens her mouth, but before she can respond, her mother's harsh voice cuts through the backstage noise. "Places, one minute! Allez-vous-en, girls, we do not have all day!"
- "I'll talk to you later," Meg says to Jammes with a sigh, and heads back in the direction of the stage.
It looks like intermission is over.
