Death of a Muse-Chapter 15
Legal disclaimer-Larson's estate owns, I rent, my payment being the sheer joy I get out of the story and turning others onto Rent.
Author's Note-Ah, the joy of a road trip. My laptop has no power cord, it's sitting on my bed at home, so I write this late at night at my parent's computer. Please excuse the timing in getting chapters out, I'm busy, it's the holidays-Merry Whatever. Oh, yeah, it's ballet time (I know, finally!) and yes, love is in the air. Reviewing is a gift to me, I unwrap each review with glee. Miss Hollywood, thank you for your review, I am glad you're still with me as the others are…I love all my reviewers. You guys all rock.
The ballet was exquisite. Mimi Marquez sat with her arm wrapped around Roger's, watching the dreams of children come alive with a unique beauty that is only experienced when the ballet is live. The symphony was perfect as well.
Roger sat enraptured by the union of dance to the music. He had heard all the pieces of the Nutcracker every single year since he could remember, could play bits and pieces of the music on his guitar, but also had never seen the beauty of the dance and of the music played with a live symphony.
Collins and Chang moved closer together as they sat watching the ballet. Maureen and Joanne also watched the ballet, happy that they were there, a good escape from the fight that they had earlier. A story to escape into was the best medicine for anyone whose heart was aching and this was just the right one for the group.
Mark, on the other hand, found the ballet a bit otherworldly. Even though he was Jewish, his Russian grandparents had told him the story as they knew it, his Nana even having the chance to see the Nutcracker performed by the Bolsohi. The story of the Nutcracker starts on Christmas Eve, when Clara's Nutcracker was broken by her brother Fritz. Clara falls asleep after her Nutcracker is fixed and has a very unusual dream. That dream includes her Nutcracker coming to life to battle the Mouse King and winning. When the mouse king is defeated, the Nutcracker turns into a prince and takes Clara on a journey to the land of snow.
On that journey, they journey through the land of snowflakes, then the land of sweets. In the land of sweets, they meet the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Mary had been so nervous when she left that he knew she feared a misstep. As she started across the stage, Mark realized how nervous he was for her. Her part included six dances in one, as a reward to the Prince for defeating the Mouse King.
She was dressed entirely in white, her red hair a beautiful offset to the set and other dancers. She spun, pirouetted, stepped, and danced with a passion and fire that told him instant she read the note. She was dancing like she never had before.
Mary was in her element and she took his breath away. When she was done, the audience was cheering in admiration. She was perfection.
The group of Bohemians enjoyed the rest of the ballet, Mark impatient for it to finish so he could tell Mary how much he loved it, but ready for her final bow. She was happy to come out and bow with the rest of the cast, a nod going to the corner where she had put the Bohemians. As the lights came up, she could see Mark's grin in the audience and their eyes met.
Her smile back was pure radiance.
The usual after show group came and went as the Bohemians waited for Mary to be finished. She had to speak to the directors, making sure that they were okay with her performance, make sure her costume was stored properly, remove the overdone makeup and brush out her hair.
By the time she met the gang, she was looking completely different. She had dressed to go out with them, looking much younger than the ballerina they had just witnessed on stage. She looked like one of them, jeans, pretty flannel shirt, and her hair in a braid.
"Hi guys," she said, "Thanks for coming. How did you like the show?"
They didn't answer, they just applauded. Mary blushed and laughed. Without missing a beat, she bowed.
"Awwww," Mary said, "Thanks."
"No, thank you," Collins said, "We're taking you to dinner, Ms. Blaine, you've earned a celebration."
"A celebration?" Mary asked, "Why am I thinking the Life Café?"
"Are we that predictable?" Roger asked, giving her a kiss on the cheek, "C'mon Mary."
"Predictable is good," Mary continued, "And friends are even better. Let's go guys."
As they got to the café, Mary was surprised by the crowd. The group walked in, met their usual harried waiter who asked they don't put tables together, but as always, they put the tables together. Mary realized she was hungry, the ballet had taken a lot out of her and for the first time all day, she had an appetite.
After ordering, the group sat telling her about how much they loved the ballet. Roger went on about how balanced and perfect the music was, Mimi was glowing over the dancing, and Chang was thrilled with how amazing it all looked. He mentioned her perfection in the Chinese section of the dance, his familiarity with that kind of ballet coming through in his conversation with her. Maureen and Joanne enjoyed her costume, asking how hard it was to dance in it. Maureen had commented on the Prince, which earned her a kick under the table from Joanne, while Mary regrettably informed her that his boyfriend was at the theater tonight as well.
Mary laughed, enjoying the questions. It was so wonderful to have people who enjoyed the ballet for what it was, not the usual crowd that she hung with, the ones who only knew steps and body position. She had grown so tired of them, they had missed the point that ballet was art.
Mark squeezed her hand. She turned to look at him, camera in her face. He had it with him, but she knew he had respected her request not to film the show.
"Mary Blaine, you just danced the ballet of your life, what do you have to say next?" Mark asked.
She lifted the glass of beer in her hand and smiled sweetly.
"To DANCE!" she toasted, "To Friends and to George Balanchine!"
"I bet you can't find something that rhymes with that Mark," Roger laughed, "Way to go Mary. That was amazing tonight."
"Thank you Roger," Mary replied, "And for rhymes? Machine, chime, time, rhyme…"
"Yeah," Mark smiled, "Go on Mary."
"You're the one who's the best at it, Marcus," Mary replied, kissing him, "Thank you for the roses, they were perfect. How did you know?"
"Another dancer told me," Mark answered, "Thank you Mimi."
Mimi's smile was radiant.
"Sometimes have to educate the uninitiated," Mimi replied, "Glad to help."
Mary couldn't help it, she yawned. She looked at her watch, it was one a.m.
"My god, it's not the company," she started, "Just been a really long day."
"And an early one tomorrow," Collins retorted, "I think it is best that we all go."
They all went dutch on the check and headed out various ways home. Mark was arm and arm with Mary, Roger and Mimi just ahead of them as they walked down Avenue B to the loft.
It was cold, a wind was blowing in from the water, and the beginnings of snow were falling, turning the dingy streets into a winter wonderland.
"God it's beautiful tonight," Mary said, smiling, "I wish it didn't have to end."
"It doesn't," Mark said softly, "I meant what I said, Mary. I will wait for you."
Mary stopped and looked at Mark. He was serious, far beyond when he reminded Mimi and Roger to take their AZT or when his brows were knitted in concentration over an editing project.
Emotions hit Mary full blast, joy over his patience, frustration over her lack of committal, fear over what could come next, and another emotion that she knew only one other place.
Love.
Oh shit, she thought to herself, Mary, you're in love with him, what now?
"Mark, I," Mary was interrupted by his lips.
The full passion of the kiss was enough to make her knees go weak. He held her by the small of her back as he kissed her, passionate, sweet, but with enough emotion behind it to turn her into jelly.
"Whenever you're ready," Mark said, "Like I said, for you, I will wait."
"Thank you," was all Mary could say, words leaving her.