To the Stars and Beyond

Prologue

"You know Mal, the clowns' dressing rooms are down the hall." A voice giggles.

I flick my eyes up to see Liv's reflection in the vanity mirror. She's standing behind me with her arms crossed over her chest and a big grin on her face. Her platinum blond hair is tied into a tight low bun just like mine and we're wearing the same yellow sequin bodysuits.

I roll my eyes at her, "Not funny."

She places her hands on my shoulders and looks at me in the mirror, "I beg to differ."

While she was wrong about her humor, Liv was right about the fact that I look like a clown. My red performance lipstick is sloppy to say the least. I've never been good at this kind of stuff, which is why I constantly thank the gods for Liv. Without her to do my makeup, I would never make it through so many shows. She's practically the glue that holds me together.

I like to tell myself I'm the same for her, however sometimes I doubt it.

The stage manager pokes her head into our dressing room, "Mal, Liv, you're on in five minutes."

"Thanks Rachel." I respond, "We'll be ready in a second."

As soon as she leaves, Liv spins my chair around to face her and holds out her palm, "Hand it over."

Sheepishly, I place the lipstick in her hand, "What would I do without you Liv?"

"Hopefully hire a hair and makeup specialist." She laughs, adjusting her grip on the lipstick and pointing it in my direction, "Now shut up so I don't make this any worse."

I obey as she effortlessly fixes the lipstick I tried to apply.

"Perfect." She claps, "Now let's get backstage before Rachel comes back and yells at us."

Liv takes my hand and pulls me out of the chair and through the hallway until we get to the door that leads backstage. She turns towards me and I take her other hand. We rest our foreheads together and take one long deep breath, "To the stars and beyond." we both whisper.

We separate and Liv pushes open the door, allowing loud music and the smell of popcorn to flood our senses. I immediately recognize the song belonging to the contortionist routine before us. I watch as Liv disappears behind a curtain that leads to the opposite side of the stage.

Forcing myself into my own zone, I tune out the noise of the music and the audience and begin climbing up the pillar to my left. Across from me, I can see Liv starting her climb too. Luckily the audience is too entranced by the girls twisting themselves into unnatural positions on the stage to notice Liv and I readying ourselves on the platforms above.

I've personally never liked the contortionists. It's always made me feel sick watching them twist and pull their bodies past the limit of possibility. It doesn't help that the five girls have awfully snotty personalities too. Even Liv can't stand them- and she's the most amiable person I know.

Finally the music stops and the crowd goes wild. They all fall silent though as the lights turn off and a single spotlight focuses on Liv. She glows naturally in person, but onstage she's like a single star among the dark night sky. Everyone knows that she's the talented one out of the two of us. Her mom was one of the most famous trapeze artists in the world, however many people believe that Liv has the potential to become even more world renowned.

When I watch her, I don't doubt that for a second.

Our music starts and she wraps her hands around the trapeze bar and leaps from her platform. As she reaches the highest point, she swings her legs up and hooks one leg around the bar before letting go with her hands and grabbing her free foot behind her head.

Suddenly a second spotlight illuminates me. I take it as my cue and copy Liv's movements. We swing towards each other and she waits till the perfect time to grab my arms and unhook her leg from her trapeze bar. I squeeze my leg tighter around my bar to bear her weight.

The routine that we've rehearsed for hours every day over the past month flows through easily and effortlessly. We complete every fly and catch flawlessly and the crowd echoes our success. I can't help but smile as I prop myself up on my bar to prepare for a trick. This is the feeling that I live for.

Before I know it we're on the last catch of our performance. I hook both my knees on my trapeze bar and stretch my hands out, ready to catch Liv at any second. As our bars swing together, perfectly in sync, I watch as she releases her bar and sends herself flipping through the air towards me, a beaming smile across her face.

As she raises her arms for the catch, time slows. I see her face drop as we both realize what is about to happen. Her delicate fingers brush mine as we miss the catch. My breath catches in my throat as her eyes widen and she lets out a high pitched scream. I feel frozen and helpless as I'm forced to watch her plummet and hit the ground with a sickening thump.