Understudy

The blinding lights hurt behind her closed eyelids.

Gleaming, twinkling, blazing rays of light, all pointing towards her, revealing every single inch of her vessel in a pompous golden illumination. It is like standing at a precipice, leaning over, caught right between gravity earthing one's feet to the ground and the sensation of falling, with the world turning upside down.

She smiles. The light is invigorating; so is the faint but stinging pain resulting from it. It is like sweet ambrosia to her; life-giving nectar. Opening her eyes, she can feel those of innumerable others linger on her, drawn like insects to the light. The air is twisting, palpable, and she reaches for it, stretching her arms out to both sides, while the ground beneath her bursts into the ultimate crash of sound and harmony, evening the way for her to open her mouth, clench her fists and grasp the attention of every single soul in the room. Split-seconds before her vocal cords react to the impulse her brain sent to them, a peculiar yet familiar feeling settles in her stomach. She can feel it in the moist palms of her hands. It fits. Their attention, their minds, their thoughts, all fit in the palms of her hands. She has them now.

With this reassuring thought, she lets herself go, and gives in to the glittering promise in the air, and melt together with the harmonies emitted by the ground beneath her feet. It is like sucking all the air from the room, while simultaneously being the only source providing oxygen to it. She is their source of life, which they are grabbing onto very tightly, entranced by the magnificence of this experience. Carrying this last harmony, she is reincarnated right in this moment on stage, the natural and comforting cycle of life. She is still in the state right before gravity lets go of her body, facing the fall, but if feels more comfortable now; it feels like it's right where she's supposed to be.

You were great, absolutely astonishing."

"A riveting performance, as always, Miss."

"... breath-taking ..."

"... a pivotal event of this show, surely ..."

The voices blended into one as I strode through the grey corridor towards my dressing room. I could sense warm bodies wrenching and scurrying all around me, but they were fleeting, none of them capturing my attention long enough to make out any other features than their squirming silhouettes. To me they seemed like nothing more than fishes on dry land.

Finally, I reached the inconspicous entrance to my chamber, gave the door a stern push and, without turning around, shut out all the noise behind me. I resisted the temptation to lean back against the cold material of the door, but took a few steps into the room instead. There was a huge mirror to my left, claiming almost the entirety of the left-hand wall. There was a string of regularly spaced-out round lights placed all around the mirror, emitting a faint golden shimmer. It was trying to imitate the light, which had pierced my insides just a few minutes ago, but failed miserably.

I turned to look at my reflection, framed by a glow which appeared almost like a halo. Uncomfortably aware of my own weight pressing against the soles of my feet, I let myself sink down on the chair in front of the mirror. Placing my elbows on the long desk, I pinched the skin of my right cheek. The heavy make-up had begun to crease into my wrinkles, and made me look older than I was. Or maybe just exactly the age I was. I honestly couldn't really tell. Without breaking eye-contact with myself, I stretched the skin of my face towards my ears, feeling it push tightly against my cheek bones.

With a sigh, I let go of it again. Looking at my fingers, I could detect a thin layer of make-up spread out there in the dim light of the lamps around the mirror. As I lifted my head, my gaze was drawn towards the abundance of pictures plastered all over the wall, some even overlapping at the edges of the mirror.