When We Meet Again (Novella/Short Story)

The Star of the Show- Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was around midnight, and Aida couldn't sleep. She had awoken herself with a startling sob and now, after endless dark hours of staring up at the ceiling, it felt as if her eyelids had been taped back. No matter how heavy they felt, she just couldn't sleep.

Her mind kept on wandering back to the dream.

The dream of that boy, and his face, but most importantly how he had looked at her. Like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And it was a dream.

She wanted to draw him, the dream boy. (Dream boy, mind you, not dreamboy.)

Aida sat up in bed, watching the rain patter down against the tin roof. She looked down at her shaky hands, the hands that she hadn't been able to draw with in months, and clenched them so tight that little crescents were pushed into her palms. She threw her down comforter to the side and slipped on some house shoes and crept downstairs, her cat following her like a blue-streaked shadow.

The rain whispered her name into her ear as she sat down in the dead of night and stared out the window, touching her reflection in the pane of the glass.

"I can't." She whispered out in knowingness. The truth of this hit her like a kickball to the gut, which wasn't pleasant to say the least. It hurt her and left her gasping for air, why would that change? The very foundation of her as a person had been built into the pedestal of her being an artist. It was more her name than Aida ever was.

She cursed under her breath, coming out louder than she had expected and causing her to jump. It sounded like someone was behind her, but when she turned around there was only darkness. And then- light.

And music. Ballroom music, like a whole symphony was in the living room. Loud and full of feeling, emotion. The clicking of shoes. Champagne bottles opening. Tinkly, feminine laughter. Aida felt weighed down to find lacy blue skirts on her. Artemis was nowhere to be found.

"Emily," a voice said behind the girl. She quickly turned, revealing an old man dressed in a suit and salt-and-pepper goatee. He was smiling and rosy-cheeked like a baby that had had one-too-many drinks.

"Father! There you are. I was worried, I thought you had vanished again."

"Oh no dear, I'm right and fine. Are you having fun? Have I introduced to to everyone yet?"

"No, I don't think so. But believe me, I'm quite all right sitting here- the fireplace really is quite a spectacle, don't you think? Ah, I don't think I'll be able to meet anyone else-"

"Nonsense, dear. I've yet to introduce you to the star of the show," he waggled his eyebrows, causing Aida to let out a snorting laugh.

"What have I gotten myself into? Fine, introduce me to the star of the show. I'd be pleased to meet him."

What the hell was going on? Aida had yet to know. She was sure that she was probably dreaming about this whole-spectacle, so she just went on with it and followed the joyous old man down through the hall and to the living room, which had been cleared out to make space for the furniture. Instead, numerous people were dancing around the space, twirling their skirts, stomping their feet. More than half of them were drunk with laughter and wine.

It was beautiful.

Aida, knowing that it was just a dream and wouldn't embarrass herself as usual, wanted to jump up on a table and dance. But considering that her skirts weighed half as much as her, she considered the option and quickly threw it out the door for two reasons: One, as stated above, two, even though these weren't real people, they still looked real, and therefore had eyes and would judge her. She decided against it and clung to her "father's" arm as he led her around the room, introducing her to rather important- yet snobby-people.