The final fittings and rehearsals go perfectly. I may not match Dominika’s style as perfectly as Ivana may have wanted in the spindle scene, but it’s passing to everyone else. Maybe pleasing Ivana is simply an impossible goal.
The makeup artist is amazing and funny. To keep things simple, Dominika decides she and I should share the prima ballerina dressing room. Everyone else is in the common dressing area, and I would have been too, except Dominika didn’t want to have to worry about the timing of the makeup checks.
My face is like nothing I could have done. Thick black arches above my eyes and along my nose ensure that I’m a stark contrast to the light happy fairies. It’s beautiful but haunting, like I’m a shadow of someone once beautiful.
The opening is more storytelling than dancing. I watch from the wings as the King and Queen’s court go onstage with the baby-doll infant Aurora.
Then the fairies go out in their pastel pancake tutus, carried by male dancers. I watch Andrew with his fairy partner. He is perfectly in sync with the others, smiling, a total professional. My heart surges that he is my friend and doing so well.
Angelique goes on as the Lilac Fairy. She has two solos and the other fairies circle her.
Finally the six corps girls go out for their first dance, including Fiona and Carla. Carla’s nerves show on her face, but they all execute the moves perfectly. Still, they do not command your attention. It’s easy to see the difference between their presence and that of the fairies, and certainly the Lilac Fairy. Angelique is sublime.
I have quite a wait, as each fairy will give her gift to the baby with a solo, and there will be both male and female corps dances before I finally go on.
I adjust my overdress and make sure the tall horned headpiece is secure and straight.
As the corps dance concludes, the four evil minions who dance with me line up. They are animated and silly, hopping in place. I also do a few pliés and relevés to make sure I am warm and ready. I have two short pseudo-solos in the prologue. The minions surround me for one, and the fairies for the other, but I am still the focus of the stage.
I try to see out into the audience, but the lighting is too dramatic. I don’t want to get too close to the curtain’s edge either. The last thing I want is a reprimand for being visible.
I know where Blitz’s seats are with his parents. I actually sat in them on the third day of rehearsals here. He’s second row, near the middle. The entire front row is filled with business partners and patrons of Alexei.
It doesn’t matter that I can’t see him. I know he’s there.
The dark note arrives in the happy refrain, which is my cue. I step out near the back of the stage, my crow-like minions hurrying around me.
FLASH, a pyrotechnic goes off with the wave of my arms. FLASH FLASH!
Everyone gasps as I come down the steps to the main stage. My head whips back and forth, as if to take in the sight of every person who caused me to be left out of the happy occasion.
The good fairies try to circle around me, as if to apologize for the slight. But I put them off with dramatic movements of my arms. Another FLASH FLASH goes off as my anger surges.
It’s different doing it with an audience. I feel their eyes, their attention. It makes me feel powerful. We had a studio audience on Dance Blitz, but they were removed from us, pulled away from the stage and back in the darkness.
There are many more people here. When I pause, I can see the front row, their faces upturned and aglow.
Now comes my longest solo, showing my displeasure and issuing my threat against the baby. I do all the things Franco has taught me for the acting, and not just the arm flourishes and sudden unexpected movements in my dance. But to feel it inside. To bring forward all the anger and vengeance I’ve ever felt in my life.
Giselle from Dance Blitz. Hannah the evil manager. Denham.
My father.
My face contorts as the impressions of all ugly memories surface, fueling my rage and the need to make someone pay.
I curse the child and dance with my minions, gleeful now that I have appeased my need for revenge. We cavort off the stage, caring nothing for the despair we have brought upon the family.
It’s what they deserve.
I head all the way offstage and back to the dressing room after the scene. The minions keep their costumes for the entire show, but I have to change into the cloak to look like a peasant in Act 1. The dancers who have come off with me are all bouncy with excitement for getting through our first scene.
I feel pleased myself.
Everything goes perfectly. There are no missed entrances, no falls, no choreography fails. The costumes all work and when we finally go out for our bows, the applause is tremendous.
This is also different. The audience stands and cheers. The curtain rises and falls, then rises and falls again. With more lights up, we can see them out there in suits and evening dresses.
It feels so different. So amazing.
I spot Blitz. He is clapping above his head. Renata is smiling. David scowls as always, but he is nodding, his arms crossed. For some reason this makes me want to laugh.
Aurora and the Prince take a few steps forward one last time, then the curtain closes for good.
Everyone hurries off the stage. Now I’m glad I don’t share the main dressing room, as it’s mobbed. I couldn’t get in there if I tried. I pass the thrown-open doors to head on down to Dominika’s. Members of the audience are already starting to come down the hall.
All the principals are expected to attend the meet and greet with the patrons immediately afterward, but we do not wear our costumes. I wonder if I will be able to get rid of the most dramatic of the makeup, the big black sections. I shouldn’t have worried. The makeup artist is already there with baby oil and cotton balls to get me ready for the after-party.
I’m not sure what to wear, so I sit while my makeup is changed to see what Dominika puts on. She comes out of the curtained area in a sparkling knee-length gown, and I let out a sigh of relief. I have something similar in the bag I brought.
I overpacked. A full-length gown. A cocktail gown. A pretty dress. And pants and a silk shirt. Then my cutest dance workout clothes.
I come prepared.
“You’re all good,” the makeup artist says, so I scurry to the dressing area to get out of the black bodice and into normal clothes. Dominika sits to get her makeup refreshed. She sweats a good deal more than I do, but then her parts are much, much harder to perform.
I rush to get in my gown, but then take my time putting on my shoes and sorting my bag while Dominika finishes up. I don’t really want to walk to the after-party alone. It’s two doors down at a local bar. I’m not sure who will be there.
Suddenly, Dominika is done and heads for the door. I rush to catch up with her. “It’s to the right, isn’t it?” I ask her.
She nods. “We can walk together.”
I let out a sigh.
But I don’t expect the crush of people outside the door. We spend at least ten minutes receiving handshakes and hugs and compliments.
Then I see Blitz.
“You were perfect,” he says, lifting me against him. “The most amazing evil fairy ever to grace a stage.”
“It was lovely,” Renata says, her eyes alight with happiness watching us together. “Just breathtaking.”
David grunts his agreement, and Renata elbows him in the side.
“You were good,” he says.
“I think we’re going to a late dinner,” Renata says. “Are you coming?”
“I have to go to a party with the patrons.” I glance around and feel chagrin when I realize Dominika has disappeared. I will have to go alone after all.
“I don’t want to eat this late,” David grumbles. “I’ll get indigestion.”
“Nonsense,” Renata says.
I glance around. The hall is starting to clear. “I think I need to get going.”
“Can we drop you off?” Blitz asks.
“It’s just two doors down,” I say. “I was going to walk with Dominika but I lost her.”
“That’s our fault,” Blitz says. “I can take you.”
David sighs heavily, and Renata shoots him a look.
“I’ll send my parents off to figure out dinner and I’ll walk you down,” Blitz says.
“I’m going back to the hotel,” David says.
“The limo’s out front,” Blitz says, ignoring his dad. “I’ll send for it later.”
With that, we quickly walk away from his parents, ducking our heads like teenagers trying to avoid the chaperones at the dance.
The cool air outside the theater is bliss after the hot crush of the hall.
“Where are we going?” Blitz asks.
“This way,” I say. “You didn’t get invited? Technically, you should be a patron since you are sponsoring the DVD.”
Blitz shrugs. “They might not have liked my negotiations. I left it to Hannah.”
“Oh,” I say. “That probably didn’t make a good impression.”
“She gets deals done. I’ll let her continue to do my dirty work as long as I don’t have to have anything to do with her myself.”
We pass a restaurant, and then arrive at a bar. A man stands outside with an iPad, the screen lighting his bushy beard.
“Are you with the ballet?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m Livia Mays.”
He touches my name on the list. “And this is?”
“My date,” I say quickly.
A smile quirks on Blitz’s lips. It’s not often that he isn’t recognized. Or maybe this guy has instructions that no celebrity is big enough to get in.
But he nods. “That’s fine. Enjoy.” He turns and opens the door.
“Sweet,” Blitz says. “Crashing a posh ballet party.” He takes my arm and slides it through his elbow.
Inside, a long dark-paneled bar stretches along one wall, glittering bottles lining the shelves.
In one corner, a photographer is taking pictures of Dominika and an elegant couple. Great. Hopefully they only want her. I’m not sure I’m up for fake smiling all evening.
Dmitri approaches. “Livia! You are here!” His eyes glance at Blitz and then back to me. “You must meet some of the other patrons.”
Blitz and I glance at each other. We both noticed that he didn’t greet Blitz. I lean in as we follow Dmitri. “It must have been a really hard bargain,” I say.
“I’ll check with her tomorrow,” he whispers.
Dmitri introduces me to face after face. They begin to blur after a while. They all compliment me on my portrayal of Carabosse. Everyone seems to be neutral about Blitz. No one is upset, nor is anyone excessively interested that I have a TV star as my date.
I take a few pictures, but not as many as Dominika. I’m perfectly happy with that.
After an hour or so, the crowd starts to dwindle.
“Do I get you alone now?” Blitz asks.
“Again?” I ask innocently.
He wraps his arms around me. “Maybe again AND again.”
I could be okay with that.
When I see the limo, I burst out laughing.
It is pink.
The door opens, and Carla and Andrew fling themselves out. “It has a hot tub!” she says. Carla is wrapped in a towel and the ends of her hair are wet. “Get in here!”
I peek in. Fiona is taking a turn in the small hot tub, which is inset in a section at the very back of the limo.
“You found one?” I turn to Blitz. “Did your parents ride in this thing?”
“No, it just got here an hour ago. It had to be driven down from Milwaukee. Apparently Chicago is too classy for pink limos with hot tubs.”
“I’m never gonna leave!” Carla calls out. She ducks back inside.
I shake my head as I step into the huge interior. I swear the limo goes for the entire city block.
“It’s huge,” I say as Blitz settles next to me.
“You’re not the first girl to notice,” he says with a wink.
I shove my shoulder against his.
This is literally the most perfect night.