Project: RWBY

Ch 45: Reading Between The Lines

Backstage, sitting in front of a mirror I look at myself and finish adjusting my hair one last time. Once done, I rest my hands in my lap and continue to stare at myself, letting out a low sigh. With no need to do any last minute practicing and having adjusted my hair for the hundredth time already, I can only sit and wait until my name is called.

With the sounds of muffled orchestra seeping through my door, it's almost relaxing. Rather, I would have been relaxed had there not been a vagabond behind me. He isn't saying a word, let alone doing anything at all, but his mere presence is grating to me.

"Even through the mirror your glare is ice cold Weiss. I sure hope you won't be like that when you're on stage," He hums lazily, lounging his body all the way across the couch with his eyes closed.

I'm about to spit out a barb when he speaks again.

"It'd be a waste of the pretty face the people are waiting for," He says casually, shifting so one hand rests on his chest and the other hangs limply next to the couch.

My mouth shuts and I continue to glare at him through the mirror.

"You'll get wrinkles at this rate," He chuckles, somehow knowing what I'm doing.

My attention is taken away by the wave of applause that echoes from outside the room.

It's almost time.

"And now, the main event that you've all been waiting for, our gracious host's youngest daughter, Weiss Schnee! A survivor who fought during the fall of Beacon will sing 'This Life Is Mine' for us all."

I quickly get to my feet and move to the door, then quickly snap around and jab a finger at the man who's following me.

"Nope, nuh uh, you're staying right here," I say sternly, narrowing my eyes at him, "I will not have you sabotaging me onstage."

He arches one perfect eyebrow, "Why would I do that? I want to see you succeed." He says looking every bit earnest.

He's doing it again, covering up where the trap lies within his words.

Ugh, it's not worth my time.

I throw up my hands and turn to the door, "Fine, do whatever," I sigh then mumble, "Not like I can control something that doesn't exist."

His response comes quickly, "Hey-"

And I cut him off just as fast, "I was talking about your self-control." I grumble before closing the door on him.

I glance over my shoulder and for some reason, I know he's smiling, I can almost clearly see it through the door. I shake off the feeling and walk away before I decide to open it and check.

As I walk up onto the stage I only hear my own set of footsteps, meaning he wasn't following. And once I find my place at the center of the stage I take a few moments to scan the audience while they applaud my entrance.

No, I'm not searching for him, I looking for my family. Yes, my father and brother are there in the elevated seats off to the sides, and mother is on the complete opposite end.

The clapping dies down and the lights begin to dim until the only circle of light is surrounding me. I didn't manage to find him, but he did promise he'd watch.

And whether he breaks his promise or not is wholly up to him.

A piano begins to play a gentle tune and I close my eyes, waiting to sing the melody I've been preparing for weeks.

Normally one would feel nervous, or excited even in front of a crowd numbering in the thousands, but the luster of being on stage has long since been diminished for me and all I feel is a forced sense of duty. Luckily I don't need to 'feel' anything while I sing, as sheer robotic perfection is enough to mask my monotonous feelings and replace it with what the people wish to hear.