In another life
I'll reach for her hand
and no one will wonder
if we're friends or something more
In another life
I'll kiss her in the streets
to our favorite song
and no one will look at us
like we're doing something wrong
~~
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a description wouldn't do it justice so here you go ;)
Omniscient
Tonight was different.
Although the uproar from the fans was just as blaring, if not twice as more so, and nothing about the show had changed so far, the atmosphere was on another level. Leave it to the Big Apple to have that effect.
Carnegie Hall was colossal and intimidating, for the venue had always had a nick for extravagance. Rows, from the architectural ceilings to the velvet floors, were lined with bulbs of light and plush seating.
It was a grand theater for those interested in the likes of opera, classical music concerts, and the oldest and richest of plays. The place screamed money with every detail, from the inside and out of the building. Each lightbulb from the vast sea of audience casted a sunkissed warm glow onto the stage, dressed in a wide black curtain for now.
Behind it were no dancers this time. Only a standing microphone up to her lips, ribbed with lines on its four sides, and a singer, beholding a glow of her own even in the darkness of the backstage set.
Mickey was doing a final check around the stage while walking with purpose, holding his walkie talkie to his lips to communicate with the lighting and sound department from up top, across the stage. He gave nods to the band and two backup singers before rounding up to center stage, where Journee stood.
"Sound, lights, all clear?"
"Good to go Mick," Johnny, the stage manager, spoke through the small box in Mickey's hand. "Countdown in thirty."
He came close to her side. "Miss Rose, we all good?"
Her head was hung with a nod. "Mhm," Journee answered before drawing a deep breath and looking up, giving him a grin. "Let's do this Mick."
Shining a half smile, the creative director turned on his heels with the box to his lips. "You heard the lady, it's showtime people."
As he went to stand beside Tiana at stage right, his eyes scanned the stage as a whole while the announcer's voice hit the speakers, uprooting the audience even more.
"Five...four..." he counted down with the sound and lights department, making eye contact with the person in charge of curtains from the opposite side of the stage. "Three...two...one," with that, Mickey nodded at the man. "Curtains, now."
Tiana and Mickey couldn't help the way they held their breaths as the massive black velvet drapes whipped apart, their yellow tassles bristling the wooden stage floor.
Total darkness had graced the theater, a single spotlight now directed at center stage. Behind her was a shadow silhouette of her hourglass frame, the delicate square of her shoulders, and the curls of her hair. Cheers of excitement transpired into ones of awe as the woman's head then lifted, followed by her eyes.
