Chapter two: Prima Donna
Jennet had come into her bathroom early the next day with a cheery attitude. She had merely wanted her lotion, but she got a horrid surprise. Looking over to the tub, her eyes widened with shock. Anika was fast asleep, the chilled water beginning to turn her skin a deathly shade of blue. Gasping for the dear lord, she had rushed in and wrapped the poor girl in her robe, picking up the thin 17 year old and rushing Anika into her main chamber. Her entire body was icy and shivering, and she didn't wake when Jennet had tried to rouse her. Wrapping Anika in warm blankets and checking for a pulse, the older woman disappeared out the door in the swish of skirts.
"Dear God, dear God! We need a doctor! A doctor!"
She yelled, her voice reverberating around the corridor as she hurried down the flight of stairs leading to her room. Running through various corridors and hallways, she finally emerged onto the stage. It was the wee hours of the 'morn, but already there was a bustle of activity. Stopping just short of center stage, her eyes were racing around as she tried to find someone helpful. The Prima Donna had been mid scale, and her voice cracked as her attention was drawn away from the maestro. Slapping her hands to her side angrily, she eyed Jennet through a layer of eyemakeup. The Dancer glared back, finally giving up and voicing her problem.
"Help! There is a deathly ill dancer in my chambers, someone call a doctor!"
Jennet exclaimed, her long dark hair falling into her face. Her chest heaving and clothes mussed; no doubt she looked a lunatic. A few other gazes shifted over to her, adding to that of an enraged Lenora Caruso. Breathing loudly to return the attention to her, the Prima Donna turned her piercing hazel eyes to be trained on the seasoned ballerina.
Lenora was quite viperous, a diva of the largest scale. She had a body sent from heaven, curves every woman only dreamed of. At least… she used to. Now she had gained quite a bit of weight, accustoming herself to the life of a Prima Donna. Obviously no one had told her that to remain a beautiful you must not sit on your lazy ass and yell at various people trying to help you.
"Why, might I ask,"
She said venomously, her gaze narrowing and thinly sculpted eyebrows pulling into a frown. She was dressed in finery, a red satin gown with a black lace corset, although it did basically nothing for her form. Now it was as if someone could positively drown in her cleavage; and it wasn't flattering in the least bit. Jennet was stunning and radiant without trying, but Lenora tried much too hard. Taking in breath and exhaling it in an absurd over-exaggerated sigh, the signora continued to rant.
"Do you find it necessary to interrupt my warm-up with such useless information? I am rehearsing! My voice will bring this opera out of disfavor, and one measly dancer can be sacrificed for such importance."
Placing her hand on her hip, the Prima Donna pointed her pudgy finger accusingly at Jennet. The dancer inhaled so quickly her chest heaved, then she stamped her foot on the ground and tried to interject. No one could successfully achieve that, and Jennet was a fool to try. Sure enough, Lenora continued as if without interruption, throwing a wild and absurd accusation.
"Do you wish to know that the downfall of the Opera Populaire is on your shoulders!"
Her scornful words were shrugged off like an old coat as Jennet face flushed red in fury. The woman marched forward with her fists clenched, shouting curses and obscenities in a shrill voice. It would be an understatement to say the air was not thick with tension. Stagehands rushed around in the rafters, cocking their heads to catch every insult. Groggy ballerinas awoke instantly, rushing forward on point and trying to suppress anxious whispers. Drama concerning Jennet and Lenora was a very hot topic for gossip around the theater.
"You utterly unmanageable woman! How can you merely dismiss the life of Anika Geovinna because your pompous ass didn't like being interrupted with a more important thing that your own 'supposed' talent? You are a horrible singer; all of this opera house knows it! You evil wretch, just wait until I get my hands on-"
Just as Jennet had gotten within a foot of Lenora, the unmistakable voice of Madame Giry interrupted them from downstage. She was calm as always, and held such authority over the entire opera that everyone listened.
"The doctor is here."
Antoinette Giry said tranquilly, a twinge of resentment lingering around the edges of her voice. One hand was on her cane and the other gripping the bewildered opera house doctor. Her all black attire had not changed for today, and seemed very fitting for the circumstances. Madame Giry could not have known there would be potentially fatal melodrama in the Opera House this very ordinary morning.
"While you two were trading ugly words, someone helpful called for him! Now come before I lose an important ballerina. Lord only knows I can't afford that loss."
Leading the way, Madame Giry stormed off with Doctor Kellier in tow. Jennet followed without a word, casting a glare at Lenora that signaled revenge. The Prima Donna scowled, yelling at her maids and storming offstage. No doubt Monsieur Jezime would have quite a lot to deal with when he came in for work.
As the trio hurried up the stairs that led to Jennet's chambers, Dr. Keiller pulled out in front and held up his medical bag. Skipping every second stair as he rushed up the winding staircase, the doctor's boots clicked on the cold hard metal.
"Step lively you two. I must see how Anika is doing!"
The man reached the top, throwing open the doors to Jennet's room and rushing to the bedside. Anika was settled in a cocoon of blankets, the tip of her nose a warm red color. The fire in the hearth was slowly warming her chilled body, and the doctor unwrapped her carefully. Seeing her naked form, he turned to Jennet and arched an eyebrow.
"What were you two doing?"
He questioned suspiciously, the fringes of white hair around his bald skull untidy and mussed from the run up the stairs. The dancer scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and bringing down her fist angrily.
"Not whatever you are thinking you sick man! She was taking a bath in my bathingroom, and she fell asleep in the tub. I found her like that, now get on with your inspection! We can't have her die while you think dirty thoughts."
The doctor waved his hand in the air, ignoring Jennet's scolding before he turned back to Anika and performed various simple tests on her. Madame Giry stayed silently in the shadows; her arms crossed and wrinkles lining her face. She suddenly looked very old. Albeit, too much stress on one woman would do that.
Dr. Keiller had known at once that there was something wrong with the girl. She was not responding at all, but he was apprehensive to inspect her further with Jennet in the room. A doctor had to take certain liberties, and an overprotective mother-figure was not a good ingredient in that mix. Turning to them and reaching in his bag, he quietly asked them to leave.
"Madams? Some privacy please?"
(A/N: It's been edited. What do you think guys? )