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She stares back at the boy, horrified. Vera doesn't move an inch away from her seat and remains as still as stone. The mixture of fear and nervousness carries itself from the bottom of her heart to the rest of her limbs. As it seems to her, even the audience had the same reaction that she had.
A thin finger pokes the side of her cheek. "What are you doing? Go! The cute boy noticed you!"
Vera scowls and gently pushes Kaela's hand away. She ducks her head to avoid the intense and amused gaze of the audience. All of the lights dim and the room darkens drastically, leaving the only beam of gold light rested upon her stunned figure. The inexplicably strange feeling of having the attention of everyone in the room settles uncomfortably in her chest and her cheeks begin to blossom a bright red shade. "Why... me?" She whispers and lifts her head to the stage and finds, with surprise, that the Ringleader was no longer on the stage. The two slick black panthers paw at the marble stage with their ears perked upwards. They are confused, just as she is.
A feather tickles the back of her neck and she utters a small gasp. Jerking away from her chair, she stumbles backwards and finds herself lying on the floor is a heap. The Ringleader stands on the cross rail of the cushioned chair, perfectly balanced on the single point of his polished shoe. He bears a childish yet charming smile, his strange grey and violet eyes glittering like crystal quartzes. Leaping several feet up from her marble chair, The Ringleader soundlessly somersaults in the air as if it was only natural to do so when presented in front of a complete stranger.
Startled, Vera finds herself backing up to afraid of any possible, future injuries. She scoots back until her spine touches the back of another person's chair. In awe and terror, she watches The Ringleader gracefully roll forward in a complete, elegantly presented revolution, the shine of his polished black shoes glimmering underneath the lights as they fly above his head. It is impossible, how one person can simply leap nearly ten feet in the air and perform a dangerous act so up close to the audience itself.
After the single, flawless spin, the boy falls from grace as begins to land to the ground feet first. She is in absolute wonder, her eyes wide and full of bewilderment and fascination. The scene held in front of Vera reminds her of a soaring dove, its feathers made of ink and and obsidian, breaking out from a cloud of grey and white. "Meus parvum angelus," He whispers, his cool breath tracing a line down her neck, as wings the color of ink sprout from his back. There is the sound of wind rushing, like crows flying above, as the The Ringleader spreads out his magnificent wings, an elegant array of sleek obsidian mystery and beauty.
His wings are sleek and sharp, each feather sharp a thin, razor edged knife. Fear strikes Vera and she parts her lips to gasp in terror, although not a single utter manages to escape past her lips. She is terrified but captivated as well. Each black feather seems grows and moves with its own mind, until it covers envelopes everything else around her- engulfing her in a rather beautiful darkness. The heels of his polished shoes meet the ground without a sound. Applause makes it way around the room, the audience so very impressed with the unexpected performance. Black faux feathers fall around him and grace his shoulders as he leans over to Vera.
