Hear My Voice

Put One Ballet Slipper in Front of the Other

Looking around the now empty dressing room, I take a few moments to myself to calm the ever growing nerves. Yes, I am Annaleigh Griffith. Yes, I am a dresser at the Majestic Theater. Yes, I am going to be Christine Daae in 45 short minutes-

Of course, I don't get to think too much until a tapping at the door draws my attention.

"It's unlocked!" I call out curiously.

However, my curiosity was short-lived when Jeremy Hays walked through the door.

"We need you on stage in like, two minutes to go over the blocking of Wandering Child once more before the show starts," he explains while fixing the light gold bow tie around his neck.

"That anxious to have me stolen by Jeremy Stolle, are you?" I wink at him before getting up and fixing the lengthy fringe along my skirt. This Hannibal costume is seriously annoying at times; a fact I never would have discovered as a dresser since I would never get the chance to wear these luxurious costumes.

He rolls his eyes humorously then glances at my skirt, "Have fun kneeling in that costume, I saw a tweet from Rebecca Caine complaining about bruises on her knees from the beads on that skirt."

"Um, that is why they added these rather helpful knee-pads years ago," I stick my knee up, showing him the thin sponges covering my knees; they match the pale color of my stockings/skin, "They will also help when the quote un-quote 'Phantom' throws me around during 'Stranger than You Dreamt It'."

Scoffing, he turns his back on me and starts walking towards the door; changing the subject, "Come on Miss Christine Daae, you have a creeper just waiting to kidnap you."

I giggle and follow his footsteps, my feet barely making a sound in the pale peach-colored ballet slippers my feet are dressed in. 

On a side-note, I am able to go en pointe so the choreography for Hannibal is not that difficult. However, it was simplified for a group of dancers (so I wouldn't be awkwardly alone) since the dance involves a lot of memorization that takes weeks and even months to perfect. I only had mere hours. 

"Deep in thought, I presume?" Jeremy asks, glancing back at me as I follow him through the narrow hallway. The same one I walked through three months prior as a dresser. Tomorrow I will regain that title and no longer be a "Broadway star". 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I laugh and punch him in the shoulder.

Narrowing his eyes he rubs his shoulder tenderly, "Ow."

"Hm," I hum thoughtfully, "Maybe I don't need Raoul or the Phantom. I can protect myself if I can hurt you that easily." Smiling menacingly I prance away from him as he chases me onto the stage. 

I squeal as he reaches his hands towards me. Dodging them artfully I duck behind Jeremy Stolle; who stands next to Holland with his prosthetic deformity, covered by his slightly tinted mask. 

"Help me oh angel of music! For that insolent fop is trying to hurt me!" I plea dramatically, fighting my own lips from turning upwards into a gleeful smile. I sigh and put the back of my hand to my forehead.

"Who dares to hurt my darling Christine?" he booms and steps forward toward Jeremy Hays, who is doubled over in laughter. 

"Did- did you just call me a fop?" he asks between chortles.

"People can we please act professional? That curtain rises in 40 minutes!" Holland slaps her clipboard against her thigh, yet a glowing smile resides on her face. 

Jeremy Stolle walks looks at the stage manager and removes his fedora, "Madame do you know who you are talking to?"

Holland just snatches the hat out of his hand and hits him over the head with it, "Yeah, a fool who wears rubber covering half of his face for his career!" She replaces the hat atop his head then starts to walk away.