"Oh god, I'm so spent," Cora said as she sat down in front of the mirror and put her face into her hands. She handed one of her props to her dresser Sarah.
"Your third show tonight, of course you are," she said and patted her on the shoulder. She looked up at Sarah and smiled.
"At least I didn't have to cross dress this time. I have nothing against it, but I'm a woman. I like dressing in a traditional fashion." Sarah listened intently as she undid Cora's updo, by pulling out the pins out one by one. She let Cora's hair fall to her shoulders as it ticked her bare skin.
Cora continued,"Okay, right now, I am perhaps dressed a bit more traditional than I would like, in a corset that hurt women for centuries. Now that I think of it right now, I am struggling to breathe, but in general I like it."
Sarah smiled as she split Cora's hair in sections to braid it. She let her fingers linger on the back of her neck. A small touch, but it was something. "Would you like me to loosen it before I start braiding?"
She liked to be braided and have her makeup off last, then to get dressed. In modern clothes, she left the actress that she portrayed on stage behind and became real.
"Could you?" Cora said and reached up to pat her hand.
"Of course," Sarah said. Inside her heart was beating fast, she couldn't explain it. Every time she had the chance to touch Cora, it was as if she could never imagine anything better. It had been two months, but still she felt just as anxious to touch her as ever. She knew every curve of her body, she put her hands upon it like a landscape that she knew so well, but still surprised her. Cora's skin under her fingertips never got old, gracing her was like touching a goddess.
When she took the job, she was happy to have a good paying job that allowed her to get away from her parents and their nagging. They constantly bugged her about going on dates, marriage, and other things of the like that she cared nothing about. She didn't care for too much actually, people included; she never had. She had always been closed off, not quite quiet but reserved in her manner. Sarah had dated boys, of course, but she could not think of one that would silence her parents on the score of marriage. So when she took the job as Cora's dresser, she was expecting to gain independence, but she did not expect to find Cora Levinson so utterly charming.
She loosened the lace on the back of Cora's corset, "Is that better?" she asked.
"Oh yes much," Cora answered and took a wet tissue to her face to tackle the task of taking of her stage makeup.
After Sarah had finished braiding Cora's hair, Cora went behind her changing partition. Sarah stood behind her for a minute, unlacing the corset. She took it off and handed it to Sarah. Sarah stayed behind her for a moment, looking at her bare back that she wanted to stroke so terribly.
"Thank you, Sarah," she said and dismissed her. Sarah crossed over to the mirror, staring to clean the counter that was littered with bobby pins. She let her eyes linger over to Cora; she had never before as much as she wanted to. But tonight, she had no choice—it was as if she was possessed and her purpose was to watch as Cora as she slid her underwear up her thighs. Sarah's mouth slightly gaped open as she watched her, she felt herself become aroused. Moments went by, as she watched her get fully dressed. The way her body moved was poetic, it was like watching a great movie heroine; this was far better as she was real. Just out of Sarah's grasp, but perhaps possible to behold one day. She watched in the mirror as Cora walked with a fluid movement towards her. "Let me help you," she said as she leaned over Sarah, "you wouldn't even believe these all fit in my hair." Cora looked at her and smiled.
As Cora's breath graced her neck. Sarah closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She thought back to when she first met Cora. Her manager had brought Sarah in to meet Cora. She was sitting on a stool. As she turned, Sarah gasped. She swore she had seen other performers in the hallway, many of them were plain—even with makeup. She wasn't expecting hers to be much different. She had flowing dark hair, bright blue eyes, and an easy smile. Even with the stage makeup and what Sarah considered to be ridiculous outfits (corset, panties that had more ruffles than anything). She smiled, "I hope I haven't scared you," she said sweetly, "I'm afraid I look like this most nights." Cora got up and walked over to her and took her hand, "Do you think you can handle me?"
Sarah snapped out of her thoughts and her mouth regained her structure, "Oh yes, if you will let me."
Cora laughed and looked at her manager, "Sarah will do very well, you may go now." Cora warmed up to her quickly. After the show and Sarah's first night on the job, they went out for a drink afterward. She asked Sarah mostly about herself, Sarah had to be prodded at first, but over the course of the night she became comfortable speaking so. She couldn't remember the last time somebody asked her what she felt; they only told her what to do. Over the next few weeks that turned into months, Sarah's life revolved around Cora. She dressed her, watched her backstage as she performed, then undressed her at the end of the night. The hours during the day passed slowly as Sarah counted down the seconds until she could be in Cora's company. Memories of her smiles, her laugh, her conversation made her ache inside. When she came to dress Cora in the night, all the ache went away and she felt euphoric again. She took more pleasure than she should of touching Cora's hair, face, and skin. It was like an itch that she had to scratch and as time went on, she risked touching her more. Usually Cora removed her makeup at the end of the night, Sarah would make an excuse saying she had missed a spot to touch her cheek through the thin tissue. She would braid Cora's hair and purposefully touch her neck, Cora didn't seem to mind. Sometimes she giggled, being very ticklish. However much, Sarah still longed for more. The night passed and when they parted company, she felt utterly alone. Like one of those stupid girls obsessed with a boy, she was hopelessly in love.
She looked in the mirror, seeing her and Cora side by side picking up her bobby pins. In the mirror, she could pretend that Cora loved her—that they were a couple. That afterwards when they left the construction of the mirror behind, that she would walk her home and kiss her; Cora would invite her in and they would spend the night in bed, in fits of passion as her lips graced Cora's neck and in moments of silence, as Cora held her. And how Sarah wanted all of that, but for now, she looked into the mirror and just imagining it filled her with anguish and elation all at once. It was a beautiful reflection, after all.