LOGINBeneath the opera house...indeed, someone is there. Watching and musing as he watches the theatre he loved and hated. Noelle is a talented dancer but is pushed aside in favour of the ballerinas. Until one night, he hears music and encounters the origin of many ghost stories; Julian is an enigmatic loner whose only companions are the rats. In Noelle, he sees the spark of talent and knows he can kindle it. And the story begins. Genius and passion are a painful mix...
View MoreNoelle had seldom had any reason to look at the reviews in the papers. He had never been mentioned unless one counted the mentions of the corps de ballet.Today, he was eager to see the reviews, despite the dampness in the grey, dreary air leaving ink stains over his pale fingers....and a new star has emerged. Flying like a falcon in the blaze of the sun. Noelle Cellier depicts Horus with a grandeur that should be beyond his young years.I, and those around me, could not draw our eyes away; even blinking was painful, as we did not want to miss even a twitch of his fingers. The music was heavenly. A composition of a true master, alas, an unknown who should be lauded for his talents.Noelle felt as if he was floating on air. The review complimented Alexandre, too, but its focus had been on him. For the first time, he felt appreciated. Felt as if he could reach the giddy heights he sought.It was easy to ignore the rain that day. It just made the first sip of morning coffee sweeter, an
Noelle lost himself in the music, becoming one with it. He imagined the notes swirling about him, supporting his leaps limbs like invisible hands.He felt their warmth and Julian's words whispering in his ears, giving him the encouragement he otherwise lacked.Horus took shape. A bold, vibrant God, but one that hinted at a hidden fragileness. A God whose heart was strong and mighty but not invincible. 'Please,' he thought as he flew in a perfect jump. 'Please let Julian be watching. This is, for him, a homage to the music. He deserves more recognition, but I know he won't take it. It took courage to leave this composition out to be discovered. I will be his vessel; my glory will be his!'He barely heard the rapturous applause as he settled into his final pose, even though it echoed loud enough to be heard in the streets.Alexandre gritted his teeth as he watched from the wings. The bitterness he felt wasn't due to his acting skills. Noelle was showing hidden talents he hadn't recogn
Alexandre was a seasoned professional, but his nerves bored into his gut like heated needles. It was always the same on opening night. Visions of what could go wrong, last-minute hitches, and a plethora of irksome hiccups danced along with the music.'Think of it like a rehearsal,' he thought, stretching his leg elegantly as he peered into the darkness. 'An invisible audience. Perhaps audiences from the past that still enjoy the theatre." He smiled at the image. 'That would be what I would do, or scare those people I never liked.' Fear was strange; it was such a broad spectrum of emotions. Was it just brought on by mystery or the fear of what might lurk in the shadows? These were questions he sometimes asked when he was in a musing mood.But he hadn't any time to think about that. The conductor was moving on, and the heavy curtain began to lift to reveal the ancient sands of Egypt, golden and glorious with Godly splendour. But in the background, the shadows lurked, indicating a grim
A week slipped by in what felt like seconds.Noelle was engulfed in the whirl of rehearsals and the standard fraught preparations. Despite the rush, there was a palpable dedication and passion in every meticulous detail, a testament to their unwavering commitment to the success of the performances.Each evening, he meant to seek Julian, to have him set his mind at rest, but exhaustion clawed at every inch of his body, and the only place he sought was his bed. His last thought was always on the enigmatic musician, and he hoped he was watching or, at the very least, thinking of him. For Julian, each night passed in a long and uncomfortable fashion. He never slept well, in any case, surviving on adrenaline and taking naps as and when. The longest he had ever slept was just over an hour before waking and having to settle again. It was an issue he'd grappled with since childhood, a constant struggle that often left him restless and anxious. It meant he was often about before the perfor
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