Disclaimer: Not mine, shame shame. Technically I own the quatrains I made up, but Andrew Lloyd Webber can have them. They suck. Sorry- I actually do occasionally write songs, but you know. I was just having some fun. Come ON.
…
The darkness of the theater wasn't infinite- but it was dark. Only one out of every 2 lights worked well, and most of those were kept off. Thus, during the night, it was very, very dark.
But not impossibly dark. Dark enough for light to be rare, but light enough for shadows, creating a slightly darker darkness. A darkness where the wind from outside could be heard even in the lower levels. Or, at least, are assumed to be heard. What was truly down there, only the darkness knew.
The theater was not a Broadway theater, or an off Broadway one, although it was in America. New York, more specifically. Brooklyn, New York, if you want to be precise. In one of the slightly less inhabited areas, but not a total suburban one. Thus, not only was it dark in the theater at night, but it was also quiet.
Which why I was surprised to hear something.
The theater was a summer theater, little public place, for kids to do some cheesy performance of Annie and such for their parents, and the actual good stuff was only senselessly promised and denied. I, of course, would know this, being a writer of the actual good stuff. I actually had several ideas and even a bit of the score written (thanks to my father, the composer/ arranger, for helping me), but every time I brought a script to them, they denied it. They probably never read it anyway. If they had, I might even have something on Broadway.
Aside from being a writer, I'm also a bit of a snoop, or a nosey writer if nothing else. Since I was allowed in during the day for the writing classes (a complete bore, I assure you), I was able to get in during the evening, and if I was good during the week (and the only reason I ever was, on the occasions), during the night. So I would snoop around the building and hope for an idea, or something to sit on. Or a bar of chocolate someone forgot.
Anyway, when I heard the sound (a voice, more specifically), I immediately brandished by pencil and whipped out my notebook. However, I soon realized that they weren't looking for me. I could just tell.
They were calling someone else.
In an excited frenzy, I looked for a place to squeeze into or hide under, but I found none that appealed to me, and figured that I would have to get closer anyway. I strained my ears to hear again that voice in the darkness. Suspense mounted. Come ON! Something HAPPEN!
"Haeley…" the voice called again, musically and soft. Haeley… she was in the chorus! Haeley was supposedly the best, or one of the aforementioned, She was rumored to have a tutor, although her mother knew naught of it, and she denied it, although I see her pale when people mention it in the hall. If this was indeed her tutor, why were they meeting her here, and why did they sound so freaking amazing? Here was a voice that could crack the heart of even the most faithful rap listener, and all of those with no sense of music would quell before it in musical defecate. I, being of slightly older tastes, including quality music like some classical and the Beatles, was so startled that I nearly did supremely stupid. However, I gathered what senses I have in time to stop myself from having enough time to think if something dumb enough to do. "Haeley… From the shadows I call you, Haeley, let your voice free. Haeley, the daylight is finally through, Haeley, my Aphrodite… Haeley… Haeley…" My head was spinning. How cam someone possibly sound that awesome? And the lines! They're wonderful! Writer, singer… It was too much. I stifled a gasp. I actually accepted defeat- the voice was BETTER THAN I WAS! Only by a bit, yes, but to admit someone could smush my ego is something that is entirely unheard of. (Really. Ask anyone.)
When I managed to shake my head of the voice, I began to take a more practical look at things. Dark theater, awesome voice, great lines… Haeley going pale when a tutor is mentioned that her mom doesn't know about. Increasing in greatness. Awesome voice… Awesome melody… Aphrodite… thats familiar. Hmm… Aphrodite had something to do with Greek stuff… Haeley had mentioned something about it last week. Obviously there is a connection.
"Haeley… Haeley…" the voice called. FREAK they are GOOD. But where was Haeley? A shadow flickered in the walkway above the stage. I crouched and bent my head upward. Haeley? Where are you? I want the plot to continue! Come ON! And as if I had control, a clear, sweet voice resounded.
"A thousand clay figures in the darkness, half formed, light they have not known, the sky outside, moonless and starless, is not my heart's home…" Haeley's hesitant voice sang out. Even though it was hesitant, the darkness added to her clarity. I had heard the choir rehearsing, and naturally she was amazing, but the darkness and silence forced her to make the notes form themselves around her, not let others do it for her. And she did it way better.
Haeley stepped forward on the catwalk above the stage. I could tell she could not see me, for I was wearing a dark sweatshirt, but I put up my hood anyway, just in case. The air stirred, as if something important was about to happen. Finally. Sure took you long enough.
"But here in the darkness your safe now, I'll shelter you with care in my arms… in the safety, I'll show you how, in the darkness, where no one harms!" the voice crescendo-ed, and I felt myself shimmer with the air, as if I myself were but a note that the voice commanded in the night. Another tentative step forward from Haeley. The shadow flickered, and suddenly leapt. Haeley took a large step forward simultaneously, and stepped into the grip of a man who had probably cast-ed the shadow!
"The beginnings of a million stories lay beneath our melody! Let us not pick one, but start one now!" both the voice and Haeley sang in the darkness, filling the silence with something with just as much power.
"Live not within a life of melancholy…" the man-voice sand softly, then crescendo-ed again with the next line.
"Let these notes make a vow!" the voice and Haeley sang together. I felt my mind scramble like eggs in an eggbeater. This is SO cool! Oh snap oh SNAP OH snap. Haeley and voice man kept singing, and my brains turned into a grilled cheese with hot sauce- everything was oozing out but what was in was ON FIRE. I hardly could prevent myself from fidgeting and squeing, but somehow, my awesomeness prevailed and I remained undetected.
Suddenly the music changed. They had stopped singing, and my grilled cheese brain froze into a very dislikable flavor of ices. I could hear Haeley biting her lip (by the way she was silent and once again for my intuition of situations)
"I am your angel of music?" the voice whispered. Haeley nodded slowly from what I imagined I knew. "Come to me angel of music…"
HOLD ON A SECOND. I recognized this. A nutzo friend of mine had been listening to something called 'angel of music' a few weeks ago. From some crazy play- "MUSICAL!" she had screamed- called… umm… something with a ghost dude… and a really stupid Italian soprano… and a Mary Sue soprano who's dating the ghost man… I just couldn't remember what it was called.
Ghost. Poltergeist. Spetre (yay! His Dark Materials ROCKS). Fish. Play. Musical. Opera. Phantom-
THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA IS THERE INSIDE YOUR MIND!
…
After note: Look, I KNOW it should be Christine, but hey, I le don't care (tee hee FC). And please note: this isn't a self-insersian fic. First of all, I can sing for my life and my life alone. Second of all, my ego isn't that big any more. Third of all, I don't go to any summer theater programs. Last of all, I'm a combination between the narrator and the friend screaming "MUSICAL!" when the writer confused play and musical, which everyone at my school does.
Post script: this is what I think like. I'm not morbid mucho.
Post post scirpt: Do ya think it's funny? Or just stupid? Or some deranged combination of the
two?
Post post post script: If you think it is stupid... well, then at least say what made it stupid. It will get better I swere- all my stuff starts junky and ends coolish.
You know the drill- review please!