Chapter Five

Noelle drifted through the rest of the day in a daze. 

His role in the ballet was small. Lost in the corps-de-ballet but each time he appeared it was a step forward. His partner would remind him of that every time he seemed gloomy. She was a pleasant woman. Somewhat stocky with muscular legs and an hourglass form. Nor was her face anything special. Pretty when she smiled but plain with a turned-up nose.

Her optimism was seldom for herself. If she managed a small solo role she was lucky.

Still, she danced well and enjoyed every step.

Watching from the stalls, Noelle prayed for the clock to move. Normally he enjoyed watching the soloists, taking hints from comments not even directed at him. But today was different. He wanted the night. Wanted the attention he lacked and guidance.

And the music...that ungodly and enthralling tune that stirred his soul and enchanted his feet as if he wore the cursed red shoes.

He smiled as he watched. Even with his impatience, he could still learn. 

'Although the music sounds amateurish when compared to last night,' he thought ruefully. 'But it is still beautiful. One could never tire of the masters of their art.'

That didn't mean he was that unhappy when it ended but held back his eagerness to jump up and await the departure of the others. 

'That would only increase the chance that someone will stop me and talk,' he smiled to himself as he loitered near the stage, listening to the final critiques. 'And that's annoying at the best of times.'

Karl stayed far longer than he normally did, making keeping out of the way awkward. Noelle was aware that no one ought to be in the building overnight and concealed himself uncomfortably in the shadows of the storeroom.

The normally cheerful scenery seemed grim and unwelcoming in the darkness and the masks that caused such laughter in the audience became like faces of orges and the trolls that lurked under bridges.

He could curse his fertile imagination at times. 

It felt like days before he finally heard the door slam and Karl's heavy feet tramping away. 

Noelle let out a sigh. He hadn't been aware he'd been holding his breath until he felt his lungs burn and the desperate need to suck in extra air.

That desire caused a bout of coughing as dust and mustiness tickled his throat and sinuses. 

Thank God he hadn't done that when Karl was around! 

'I still have time to pass,' Noelle pushed the door open and furtively peered around. A soft light flowed in from outside and shimmered eerily as it battled the thick shadows. 'Hopefully not long, but I can stretch and enjoy the peace. I do better without Karl's sarcasm.' He paused, grudgingly accepting that it could be helpful at times.

The darkness could be the best partner. He thought to himself as he elegantly stepped into an arabesque on the empty stage.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the rapt audience. Their adoring eyes would be on him alone and their breath held in anticipation as he leapt higher than Louis Duport.

"Very nice..."

The sultry, rich voice could have frozen him mid-air and his eyes flew open.

Julian sat in the orchestra pit, watching nonchalantly, a small smile twitching his lips.

"Th-thank you..." Noelle cringed at the stutter as he spoke. He gritted his teeth, he sounded like a nervous child! 

"Alas, you lack the chances," Julian flung an arm out, turning gracefully to cast his eyes over the rows of velvet chairs. "I saw the rehearsal. Some of it. I'm tired of your ballet master fawning over the women. He barely acknowledges your lead male, let alone yourself. Even the women in the corps-de-ballet seem to fade from his view."

"Karl has his favourites." The excuse was weak and Noelle's stomach turned as he said it. "He sees the prima ballerinas as an easy draw to the audience. Their talent is what draws them."

"That," Julian leapt like a cat onto the stage, effortlessly bringing the violin case with him. "Is because they have never studied the male dancer and have long forgotten that they are the roots that hold a flimsy tree until it grows strong. Even then, it would be nothing without them." He opened the case and looked fondly at the glossy instrument, stroking it as one would a lover. "My mother might have been flighty, but she instilled the respect of both sexes. She sometimes spoke of unfairness and ballet was one of the few that the man was the also-ran."

"She sounds like a fascinating woman," Noelle smiled as Julian ran the bow over the strings. 

"I don't talk much about her," Julian interjected crisply, guessing the next words. "I don't have much to say," he gave him a warning glance, his eyes shimmering with suppressed anger over something Noelle was oblivious to. "And I would rather focus on helping another to reach their potential."

"Of course," Noelle gave a small bow, a force of habit and a way of apology as well. "Although, I still fear you might be fighting a losing battle. I have not heard of any ballets that focus mostly on a man."

"You might not. In fact, no one might. But I have written works myself. One, and one alone, pleases me enough to share." He held up a hand as Noelle began to speak. "And I have ways." He smiled enigmatically. A smile that made him more eerie than a real phantom. "Do not worry yourself."

He slowly began to play. The music filled the air and one could almost see the glorious notes as they floated and danced like petals in the wind, like feathers from the wings of angels. 

Noelle felt as if he flew with the angels as the music lifted him. His feet worked perfectly, slipping only once. Julian paused, allowing him to adjust before continuing. He was Icarus, he was a God...he was so many things as the violin sang of myths and legends, of happiness and woe. It kept his mind alive, his pace and expression changing with it to portray what Julian wanted.

One might call him a puppet. But he was a willing one, and savouring every movement of his strings.