Black.
Darkness.
Silence.
Those were the three things awaiting him as he tip-toed to the centre. He took a deep, shaky breath, nervous of what was to come. He had done it countless times before, always giving off the air of confidence. He never once revealed his fear.
Red lips curled into a large smile, forcing his teeth to show as much as possible even as the lipstick smudged them. The blush in his cheeks steadily rose, making them even redder against his pale skin. Red eyes glowed, staring straight ahead with long lashes encircling them. He wore his makeup with pride, loving how it made his white hair stand out so. Another shaky breath, and with the music suddenly bellowing, brights lights shone on his dancing figure. He leaped and spun, performing his moves with grace, care and a grin always on his face. Through the white lights he could see foggy faces. The audience. His heart pounded in his chest from both his constant movement and growing anticipation.
A pat-de-chat here, an arabesque there and he was flying. Turning in mid-air with his arms spiralling around him. The music played in its daunting theme, offering a bizarre tempo for the circus themed performance. With a dip in the song, he melted on the stage floor, moving his body wildly with much vigour. He could see the audience following his every movement, eyes glistening in appreciation and suddenly, he was no longer afraid. As with every performance, he'd begun as a scared child and grown to be a strong-willed man.
He leapt up again, The music moving from low and dark to high, with nearly impossible-to-play violin cords. He moved in perfect harmony, the stage his and his only as he felt the blood coursing through his veins pound with adrenaline. It would never get old, he thought.
With one last complicated step, leotard clinging tightly to his sweaty skin, he bowed before the by-standers. With only a moment's hesitation to take it all in, the many people in the stands stood, applauding. A few women wiped their teary eyes, men shaking their heads in pleasant disbelief at the gift Gilbert had. The music had long since ended, and yet Gilbert still remained, panting, on the stage. He stood tall, eyes scanning the entire crowd as he walked to the edge of the stage, smiling genuinely and widely.
Neighbourhoods just a block or two down could hear the roaring clapping of the people. It was deafening. Finally, the lights went out again and Gilbert was left standing in a storm of thunder and darkness again. Somebody tugged at his arm, muttering a quick "Excellent as usual." as they pulled him to stage right.
The applause steadily became quieter and quieter until it was only but a hum in the background, the student and teacher striding through the dimly lit halls of the 'dancers' closet' and to Gilbert's room. He was the star of the show, this strange albino man, and he could never be happier to be a world-famous ballet dancer.
"Exhilarating..." he breathed, slipping through the doorway of his room marked with a large gold star. "Really formidable. You need to work on your breathing though, I could see you panting from where I was standing." Gilbert leant back on the wooden door, effectively closing it as he regarded his friend and teacher with a goofy smile. "Come now, Yao," the chinese man unfolded his arms from where they'd been on his chest, face relaxing into a proud expression only ever directed at this pupil in particular. "They loved it! /I/ loved it. I always do, and you must admit that you loved it as well." The taller of the two pushed away from the door and sauntered over to the large mirror whereupon he sat down on a cushy stool to remove his makeup. He pulled open the shallow drawers of the desk before him, grabbing vaseline to clean the mascara from his eyes. In the reflection, he followed Yao's movements, the other man rolling his eyes but moving towards Gilbert and setting his small hands on the other's shoulders. "I did. You know you're the star, you don't need me to say so after every show." he chuckled.
The albino smiled along with him, finished with his right eye and moving on the wet a wash cloth, cleaning the rest of his right half off of any lipstick and blush. He liked seeing the contrast of his regular face versus his stage face, and so always removed his makeup one half at a time. "Of course, but you can't blame me for wanting your praise now can you? You're still my teacher after all." A flick to his white-covered head and Yao moved away once more, circling the room idly. "I suppose." He hummed before pausing, turning his head to look at Gilbert again from the other side of the tiny room. "You might want to hurry with removing that. You'll have a lot of the VIP guests coming to see you in just a few minutes."
And just like that, Gilbert found himself groaning. He loved the dancing, he liked the publicity and modelling. He enjoyed the interviews and the odd pedestrian recognizing him once in a while, but the one thing he could not stand about this mostly wonderful career was having to meet the rich audience members after the show. At first, he'd found it funny, the way they spoke and walked. He'd, after all, grown up as a lower-class boy. Now, however, he could only find the men to be pompous and boring, asking him the same thing over and over as the women fawned all over him and batted their lashes as though they thought themselves to be pretty. None of the people ever had much to say, despite the monstrous clapping from earlier. "And must I really do this?" He swivelled on his stool, a pleading look on his half made up face. "Yes." There was the simple answer. Another groan escaped Gilbert's lips and Yao tsked. "You'll have to get used to it sooner or later, Gilbert. It's part of the job, as much as I'm aware of your distaste for it."
No sooner had Yao finished his sentence that many excited voices could be heard on the other side of the mahogany door, tentative knuckles knocking against it. Great, here came the silly, pompous, stuck up, we think we're better than you, annoying rich people. And perhaps those few poor fellows who managed to gamble and wage for passes.
Pooh: I won't say too much, but this story currently takes place in the 50s. The lack of Matthew in this chapter will certainly be made up for in the next and Yao's role in this story is rather important. Don't forget to favourite, follow and review! It really motivates us to continue :)
Cover art drawn by me (Pooh or Dani)