𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇'𝙎 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 - 𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

9.

━━━

The art of burlesque, the art of being a showgirl. 

The art of dance, song, and the melody which streams across the atmosphere and envelopes an undying audience. 

This is something I cannot deny, my greatest passion, my meaning. 

This is something I live off.

Because what others don't realise is, that these art forms circle, merge, and become my main source of life. 

━━━

The thick scent of alcohol and vanilla perfume fills my nostrils, and the deep, velvet maroon curtains sit before me. They stay closed with heavy anticipation lingering across my body, the unknown audience leaving me a touch nervous.

My heels click with every step, dressed in only what I can explain to be the most lavishly materialized costume I could've possibly been dressed in. When Rosie picked out a costume for me, not only was I utterly surprised, but in awe.

A heavily glittered, jewelled bodice sits across my torso, ripped and tightened so extensively, that my waist screams for relief. Thick, overwhelmingly large feather's train by my lower back, legs coated in jewelled pantihose and garter belts. The skin of my neck disappears under the weighted jewels of my chocker necklace, arms covered in matching-coloured gloves with my hair styled and accessorized in just as sparkling crystals as the makeup which thickens across my face perfectly. 

This is the most extravagant costume I have ever worn. 

And almost as extravagant as the choreography and song I've been offered to perform for such a large audience. The stage is immensely large and expensive with sight, giving me the perfect insight into just the type of performances which occur here. 

And these people are out here waiting for me to debut in this location, which I must deliver in every form which shows these people exactly who I am. 

And that, I will do. 

And by the large group of uniformly dressed women around me, I can already tell that this is going to be an extremely noticeable performance. It clicks. These women are my backup dancers. 

And this entire stage will be taken up for the performance which is circled around me. I'm sweating, panicking. I've never performed in such a manner, this is a lot. Maybe too much. Just breathe...

━━━

In position, the woman around me shuffling to their desired spots across the stage, and the darkness that covers us behind the velvet curtain very slowly brightens. 

They begin to lift.

And as they lift, the starting lights slam on and instantly shift to my figure standing before the large, excited crowd, dead centre of the stage. The focal point of everybody's curious and enticed gaze. I am the word of Alastor's, and they are eagerly waiting to see what he has been promoting across these parts so highly.

And as the large band's heavy drums, wind instruments and my heart begin to arise, it's as if I come into my own. I know myself. This is me, and it instantly switches on. 

Everything is crystal clear. I know the song, I know the dances, I know how to move and how to capture their gazes. The light's blasts and flash brightly, and the insatiable cheering begins to fill my ears as I shift across the stage with ease. The lights catch my costume as the feathers dance across my feet, natural excitement pulsing through my body with my voice pounding against the walls of the room.

With the rhythm and the music, the fog of the smoke and the sight of the backups shifting with perfect pace, this is next to muscle memory for me. Second nature. 

The drums pound against my ear with my voice filling the bar, clapping, cheering, and my face very naturally lights up in glee. My heel-covered feet move to the beat, every shifting muscle aligned and the glitter overwhelming my senses. 

My 1920s memories of my living performances slam against my mind, morphing and merging with my memories of now, and my actions. They seep together and I feel myself almost reenacting my living days, yet the sight of the dead brings me back to reality.

From the trumpets to the drums, my view washes over the crowd and catches to the pleasing sight of ashy smoke, which slowly begins to seep towards me and wash against me. 

My source.

What I live for. 

The pure energy of ogling eyes, the fascination and intoxication my performances have across audiences, it lifts from their figures and fuels my energy, my power, me as a being. And as I feel the smoke swallow me, the exhilaration - almost like a breath of fresh air fills me. I'm awake, completely. And I feel the muscles across my body tighten, my energy fueling and my power strengthening. 

And with such an audience as large as this, the energy which oozes from their bodies fills me with more than I had ever indulged in within my years. It's intensely pungent, and it's so easy to lose myself in it's smoke. 

And within the closing number, each minute passes with the room absolutely filled to the brim with the coloured, overwhelming smoke of pure, sinful energy. It curls and follows my figure, the sight of completely fallen, inebriated by my hallucinogenic performance. 

It's as if my low has completely picked up, after so long, from the lengthy drooping, drawn-out performances I have forced myself to suffice under, I'm back at my peak. My highest power. If I knew this audience that Alastor has brought would be such an undeniably successful energy batch, I would've performed here long ago. 

And before I know it, the music ceases and the masses fill the room with eardrum-bashing cheers and applause. My chest heaves and my heart pounds, and with a pause, I take my final bow. 

━━━

"That- that was amazing, honey-!" The feeling of Rosie's arms wrapping and gripping my body tightly, my chest still racing and my muscles loosening as she maneuvers my body around like a rag-doll with excited merriment. 

I chuckle a little as she continues to grip me tightly backstage before her arms very gently loosen from my body, head turning to view the approaching Alastor. 

His arms sit at the back of his body, gripping his staff formally as he shifts past passing performers and technical staff.

As my eyes meet him, the same familiar rush of general fear washes over me. 

"I'll leave you two be," Rosie whispers low to me, giggling before she leaves us. While she walks off, I turn my body and face Alastor in completeness, the smoke which still lingers continues to envelop me even backstage. 

"May I say, that was quite the performance-!" Alastor exclaims, his voice filling my ears as I crack a small smile, almost proud of myself. My gaze locks on his hand which lowers and runs through the smoke which splits by his hand intruding through,his scarlet eyes beginning to glow and buzz uneasily. 

"My interest is piqued - you've been hiding this from me? my dear, I may have underestimated you," He speaks quite lowly, almost with intimidation as he whirls his hand through the smoke with curiosity, his brows narrowing. 

"It's sustenance, that's all," I mumble as I minimize it, his tightened brows lift and his eyes glare into mine with suspicion, watching the smoke merge against my body. "Sustenance which proves to source you more power than I had expected, I should've known, there is more to you than what shows." 

He shifts beside me and as I feel his hand intrusively slither towards my back, he doesn't hesitate to begin to usher me out. My heart pounds within an instant, the feeling of his physical touch prickles my skin and sends a terrifying rush through my veins. 

It's a disgusting feeling, so confusing, so odd. But it's different. Nothing like what I am so used to.

And as Alastor begins to walk me out, the horrible sound of my phone chimes and buzzes against my pocket. I know that sound, and within this time frame, I know exactly who is calling.

Valentino.

━━━