Dame Judith stood in front of the silver-framed dresser mirror and took several deep breaths with a blank expression. Five-year-old Bob happened to be walking by at the time, and couldn't help but notice.
"Mama, what are you doing?"
"Oh!" Judith looked over at her son in a manner that suggested she was breaking out of a trance. "I am practicing my composure."
Bob gave her a blank stare. "What's...composure?"
"It is when a grown-up stays calm, even when they are very angry on the inside," Judith murmured while applying a touch of raspberry-coloured lipstick. "My rehearsals can get quite frustrating, so I need to stay composed at all times."
"Okay." Bob sat down on the bedroom floor and fiddled with the gold fringe on the carpet.
"You must learn this skill for when you're older, Bobby," said Judith, though she wasn't quite certain if he was still listening. She slipped on her midnight blue high heels, which matched her dress and jacket. "Acting isn't restricted to the stage and screen; everyone does it. We all hide our pain and anger under a mask of serenity."
Judith kissed Bob and strode out of the bedroom, and the little boy wiped the lipstick mark off his cheek.
Serenity. Bob didn't know what that meant, but he liked how it sounded. Almost musical.