𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 ❦ (𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐝)

Chapter 20

This daily training is exhausting. When I fall asleep, Solazzo is not the one I think of but to Madam Lana.

"Are you dancing or jiggling your body? You are too stiff!"

"It's jazz, not funerals! Mind your expression! Smile!"

"Wrong leg! The left one! No, the other left!"

Ugh... The idea of facing her again depresses me. It turns out that I am an awful dancer, and she reminds me every day.

"Lunch time, Arthur. There are sausages on the menu today, hurry up!" Claire tells me. She and I get along quite well, I feel. All girls were surprised to see a man arrive among them, some were even suspicious. Lots refused to undress in the same room as me, which I understand. But then the word that I 'am' homosexual spread and reassured them. I still get weird looks, just not for the same reason. At least now we can cohabitate.

"I'm coming!"

Madam Lana doesn't let us eat as much as we'd like, and we must hurry up. She tells us, 'do you want to jiggle your belly on stage? Or just throw up before the audience?' I get no special treatment. After a few weeks, I can feel that my chub melted like snow in the sun.

When Claire and I arrive in the kitchen, there are only a few sausages left. Our starving selves share what is left, smiling at each other. Then we go back behind the scenes after we are done eating.

I am not skilled enough to be a dancer on stage, not even as a replacement. All I can do is help the artists behind the curtain with their makeup, and shop for them from time to time.

I thought today was going to be a day like any other, busy yet boring. Two girls wearing heavy makeup help each other backstage. Madam Lana's screams of rage echo up to here.

"Aria! If you don't intend to go back on stage, you'd better disappear! Spraining your ankle on stage? Are you trying to ruin my show? What an amateur! Fix this ankle issue within a week or you're fired!"

Madam Lana is terrifying. No one dares to move or make a noise. I shrivel. A young waiter barges in and whispers something to Madam Lana. She relaxes a little but she still looks upset. Her eyes scan the area in search of something, then the points at me.

"You, yes you. Go get changed, you are replacing Aria," she demands.

"But, I am not on point yet..." I object timidly, avoiding her eyes.

"I have no one else right now! And your way of dancing is...alright. Chop chop! Give them a nice show, Arthur. You rehearsed the next dance yesterday. Don't mess up."

I don't have a choice. I get changed and wait for my turn to go on stage. Though I am not a fan of the makeup I must wear, I am glad nonetheless to have my body decently covered. I can't say the same thing about my coworkers. Fear bubbles in my stomach. I wonder how I will be welcomed on stage, awkward me among the gorgeous girls.

I step on stage and the spotlights aimed right as us shower me in blinding light. A dancing jazz music reaches my ear and the sound of trumpets fills the hall. It's the dance that I rehearsed yesterday, as Madam Lana said.

I do my best to follow the dancers before me. Lots of gaze are puzzled at the sight of me, but most of those soon get used to my presence and watch me with a certain interest, a certain predation, even. Though I am feeling like a piece of meat and try not to look at them, this reaction is somehow a bit of a relief. It's all going smoothly. From the corner of my eye, I see Madam Lana nod in satisfaction.

I take a few deep breaths once the song is over. As I leave the stage, I notice someone in the audience, sitting at a table on the other side of the room. Is this Angelo Solazzo?