Whaaaa? Nia the Solid-Fiyeraba-Writer-For-11-Years writing her first Gelphie fic? What a time to be alive!
And the hugest thank you to starspangledpumpkin for the beautiful cover art!
Inhale. Tondu. Exhale. Point and leap. Plie and jeté. Land gracefully on your feet. Make sure your technique is flawless.
Glinda slowly opened her eyes as the music in her head decrescendoed. The dark void of the auditorium greeted her. She looked over the dimmed stage lights. She knew she wasn't supposed to be rehearsing on the stage, but couldn't resist. This was the only time where she could feel in the spotlight. She loved being in the Ozma Regent Opera House's ballet corps, performing with her friends, but sometimes, she longed for a moment in the spotlight. She was one of the younger ballerinas, and knew it would be years until she would be given the chance, but a girl could dream, yes?
"Miss Upland!"
A squeal, and she whipped around, hearing the slightly off-rhythm footsteps and cane thump before a figure appeared from the backstage shadows. An older woman, no older than sixty-five, with thick, grey hair in a tight bun atop her head, glasses perched perfectly on her small nose. The head of the Ballet Department.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Miss Greyling, I –"
"You know you're not supposed to be on stage. What if the Prima Ballerina wanted to rehearse and saw you here? We have plenty of practice rooms good enough for you to rehearse in."
She looked down at her feet. "Yes, Miss Greyling."
"And that's not what you should be practicing. You don't dance the second variation." The older woman regarded her. "Your fouettés have improved significantly."
She brightened. "Thank you, Miss Greyling."
"But your leg was bent in your arabesque. I'll not have one of my corps ballerinas on stage with that level of improper technique."
"Yes, Miss Greyling." She brushed a stray wisp of golden blonde hair from her face and hurried off backstage.
Unbeknownst to the two, a lone figure hid at the back of the large auditorium, watching Glinda's solo from the shadows. With a slight smirk, the figure silently slipped out with Greyling.
Glinda stretched by the barre with the other corps girls, warming up before their final dress rehearsal for the newest opera. She was already in her costume and wig, and chatted away with her friends as she stretched her hamstrings.
Greyling stood before the mirrors and tapped her cane twice to get everyone's attention. "Young ladies. Let us begin rehearsals before going downstairs."
The group went to their spots as the accompanist started playing the introduction for their warmup music.
"Graceful arms, ladies. No sickled feet."
Glinda did the movements as best she could, but she wasn't feeling as passionate as she did on the stage. She lost focus, now visualizing herself back on the stage, this time, dancing in the spotlight as the audience's eyes followed her as she glided across the stage.
"Miss Upland! Miss Upland!"
Glinda blinked, snapping back to reality. She was the only one in the center of the floor, everyone else at the barres, staring at her. Greyling cleared her throat and glared at her, and she sheepishly returned to her spot at the barre.
"Very good, ladies. Begin heading downstairs," Greyling said, tapping her cane twice. "Miss Upland," she called when Glinda was at the door.
The blonde winced and slowly turned, making her way back to the head of the ballet department. "Miss Greyling."
"You were distracted today. Explain."
She gulped. "I apologize, but I don't have an explanation."
"You don't?"
She shook her head.
Greyling sighed. "You train hard, Miss Upland. I told you when you came here that you could have a future at the opera."
"Forever in the corps de ballet?" Glinda asked before she could stop herself.
Greyling pursed her lips. "It's very hard to work up through the ranks. The hierarchy is very strict here. It must be if we want to keep our status as an elite institution, putting on the highest quality productions."
"I understand."
"I said it's very hard, not that it's impossible."
Glinda met her gaze.
"Continue working hard, and maintain your focus on where you are. That is how you get noticed, not by indulging in your dreams of grandeur."
"Yes, Miss Greyling."
She tapped her cane, dismissing the young lady, and Glinda ran to rejoin her friends. The cast was gathered on stage, along with the director and stagehands, getting everything ready. The opera's prima donna, Letta Ovrigine, was already barking orders to everyone. The prima ballerina, Gysp Jabal, was stretching on her pointes, rolling her eyes every time a crew member had to run to cater to Letta.
"Attention, everyone!"
Everyone, even Letta, stood at attention as an older woman swept across the stage, her white hair in a grand updo, her fish-like face caked in way too much makeup, and her extravagant, red dress covered in ruffles and pearls. Madame Maurani Morrible, Director of the Ozma Regent Opera House.
"I wanted to express my congratulations before this run-through of our newest production. I know you've all worked very hard, and I look forward to seeing your work on display."
"Do you plan on watching the rehearsal, Madame?" Greyling asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Oh, no. I have other work to do before opening night. But good work and 'break a leg' to you all!" She clapped twice and sauntered off.
"Places, everyone!" the production director called, gesturing to the conductor to begin warming up the orchestra.
Glinda scurried off with the other corps girls. They were in the opening number, the big town scene, and half of the second act. They were in for a long run, and she needed to keep her focus. The last thing she wanted was to mess up in this important run-through and ruin any chance she had of moving up.
The first act went well. She kept her toes pointed, her arms were straight, and she didn't bump into or trip over anyone. She kept her focus. And she was proud of herself.
"Brava, everyone!" the director said, coming onstage and opening his notes.
Glinda tuned him out. She knew he wouldn't say anything to the corps ballerinas. All their notes would come from Greyling, whom she was sure would have much to say. She stared into the dark abyss and straightened. She couldn't see anything, but had a feeling there was someone out there, watching them. Watching her.
"Glinda?" one of the other corps girls, Pfannee, asked, lightly touching her arm. "Are you alright?"
"Is there someone out there?" Glinda whispered, still staring into the dark.
Pfannee turned and squinted. "I couldn't tell you. The lights are too bright. Why? Do you see someone?"
"… No." She shook her head. "No. There's no one there. I don't know what I was thinking."
Greyling cleared her throat, motioning for the girls to be quiet and at least pretend to listen. The notes continued, mostly with Letta arguing with the director and constantly exclaiming, "I cannot work under these conditions!"
Finally, after a long hour that should've only been forty minutes, the cast was dismissed with orders to rest and prepare for opening night. Glinda linked arms with her friends and hurried away before Greyling could call them back.
She neatly hung up her costume and wig, and changed back into her dress before leaving the opera house. She inhaled the fresh, spring air. As always, her coach was already waiting by the door to take her back to her townhouse. The driver stepped down and helped her in.
"Ama," Glinda nodded to her companion as she got settled.
Ama Clutch was a woman in her early fifties, and had been a part of Glinda's life since she was a baby. She went from nanny, to governess, to guardian, to companion, her title and role growing as Glinda did. When she was accepted as a student into the opera when she was fourteen, her parents could not relocate from Frottica to The Emerald City with her, which meant that for her to attend, Ama Clutch had to accompany her.
"How was the rehearsal, Duckie?" the older woman asked, tapping on the carriage roof to go.
"Wonderful. I'm having such a delightful time. Will my parents be able to attend?"
"I've written to them, but haven't received a response yet."
Glinda slouched. "I know what that means. They're not coming."
"Glinda –"
"I know what they think. They only agreed to let me dance at the Opera House until I found a rich husband. It's been almost ten years. They don't want me to spend my entire life here. If they come to see me perform, they think I'll take it as them supporting this lifestyle. I'm only twenty-three; I have plenty of time to find a husband."
Ama Clutch smiled sadly and adjusted her glasses. "I'll be there."
"You're always there. I want my parents." That came out harsher than she intended, and she immediately turned apologetic. "I'm sorry, Ama. I didn't mean it like that."
"I know you didn't, Duckie." She took her hands and rubbed her thumb across Glinda's knuckles. "I will write to them again."
"Don't bother anymore. If they want to come, they will. If they don't, it won't be a waste of energy on our part."
They reached the townhouse a few minutes later, and Glinda hurried inside, immediately removing her hat and gloves.
"Good evening, Miss Upland. Dinner will be ready shortly," the butler bowed.
"Good evening, Henv. Thank you," she nodded, taking the letters from the mail tray and settling in the parlor. She had a long day, so she opened the window, letting the crisp, evening air breeze into the room.
She loved living in the townhouse her parents bought for her. She had Ama Clutch to thank, since she was the one who ultimately convinced her parents to allow her to study at the Ozma Regent Opera House. Though she never understood why it was such a hard battle. It wasn't like sending her away would make her parents miss her. They rarely spent time with her to begin with, though they practically kept her under lock and key.
She knew that Ama Clutch had given her more freedom than her parents would've allowed, had they been more involved, but she knew to always be responsible, lest she lose that freedom. The Emerald City was known for being the most cosmopolitan city in Oz, and while it had been her parents' main argument, Glinda loved meeting all the different people, who, while coming from different backgrounds, still had enough money to live in the city.
Her Ama was always wonderful company, but sometimes, the large townhouse felt very lonely. Her interactions with her peers had always been limited and scrutinized, so she didn't grow up having many friends. She wasn't allowed to freely socialize until she came to the Opera House, where she met ShenShen, Pfannee, and Milla. She was sure her parents would approve of them, since they came from rich, influential, Gillikinese families, but didn't want to risk it by mentioning them in any of her letters.
Not that she believed they ever read any of her letters.
Glinda waited in the wings with the other corps girls as the orchestra swelled and filled the auditorium. She had trained, practiced, and was ready. She felt butterflies in her stomach, but they fluttered away as soon as the stage lights illuminated her face.
Her breath synched with her fluid movements as she danced. She felt alive, like a new person. Being onstage always made it feel like she had a fresh start, and she could escape from her reality. She was a different person with no responsibilities, loving parents, the perfect husband, and a perfectly planned and packed social diary.
Before she knew it, she was bowing at the end of the performance. Opening nights were always the most electric. Flowers were thrown at their feet, but as usual, the principals grabbed them, leaving nothing for the corps girls. As the curtain fell, Glinda slipped away, determined to be the first one back in the room so she could be the first one to change and leave.
She won the race only she was participating in, but stopped. At her station, on top of her neatly folded dress, was a single, lavender rose. She slowly picked it up. Who had put a rose here? Was this really meant for her? No one, not even Ama Clutch, had ever sent her flowers after a performance before.
"What's that?" ShenShen asked, running in and turning so Glinda could unzip her costume.
Glinda put the flower back and helped her friend. "Someone left me a rose."
"Oh. Who?"
"I don't know. There was no note. Just the rose."
ShenShen stepped out of her costume and Glinda turned for her turn. "Are you sure it's meant for you?"
"It was left on my dress."
"Sounds like you have a secret admirer."
Glinda chuckled out a scoff. "I don't know who could've possibly noticed me. We all look the same on stage."
"Maybe it's –" ShenShen cut herself off as the rest of the corps girls filed in, all talking about the debut performance, drowning out the previous conversation.
Once Glinda was back in her regular dress and hair, she bid goodbye to her friends, her rose safely clutched in her hands.
"You were amazing, Glinda," Ama Clutch smiled, pulling Glinda into a hug.
"Thank you, Ama," Glinda smiled. "Did you send me this?"
The older woman pulled away and noticed the rose. "No, Duckie. But it's very pretty."
"Oh." Now she was at a total loss. If it wasn't her Ama, then she truly had no idea who would notice her enough to send flowers.
She yawned and Ama Clutch immediately took her arm and led her to the waiting coach. She would just have to start her search tomorrow.
Updates will be on Sundays and Wednesdays.
