WHEN THE CURTAIN DROPS…
Your skin used to be marble, but now it lies flat like fragmented porcelain. In a hospital bed, nearly comatose in drug-induced stupor, the sight of you has acquired a ridiculous similarity to Ars Moriendi with the woeful eyes of your peers hovering your beaten body from a million different angles. Cristina is biting her lip, whitening it at several tiny spots where her teeth are pressing too hard, but she says you are going to be alright – if there is someone you would blindly trust in it is her, so you fight to find your rest, in spite of feeling as though you were drifting away. The next question is what you will do, followed by where will you go, perhaps there is no certainty in the gravity of your injuries in relation to your once brilliant career but before the eyes of many, envious and eager, a pig on his way to the gutter is what you have become. How frustrating it is to be tongue tied this way, to not be able to throw punches at thin air if so you wish! Beneath your skin and beyond your flesh there is a monster thirsty for revenge, who knows of the culprit’s haughty eyes and golden hair, who seeks almost maddeningly to have him pay.
…YOU SHOW YOUR TRUE COLOURS
Countless newspapers from across England covered their mouths to muffle a scream after covering the events of that fateful night. As though it was your heyday, the sublime and treacherous peak of your short-lived career was followed by a troubled descent – a strong concussion, five broken ribs, and a broken arm. The Queen Victoria ballet once gloated on their sophisticated safety measures which were supposed to protect their dancers during their intricate and often even risky productions, nevertheless, the crowd gasped in terror when one of the props – quite a symbolic one, too – fell ruthless and heavy on you mid-performance. Your legs were left intact, thankfully, but the tedious and painful recovery would promptly dismiss you from the company, and keep you far and away for over three months. To come back was to overcome many new-found fears, fears of pain, fears of oblivion and replacement. But the name of Theodore York was carved in stone, not in ice; if they wanted to leave you to collect dust on a foyer full of broken toys – as they did with Daphne, for instance – they would have to do more than hitting you hard on the head and breaking a few bones. They had your wrath and arrogance to hold against you, too bad now you have a good reason to put them to use.
VICTIM OR CULPRIT?
Whether infamous or coveted, the role of Bluebird has been ultimately given to you. Prancing in showing no signs of pain, still bafflingly reflecting the image of Xavier Dolan himself, you have returned to the kingdom that once belonged to you, to prove Theodore York at age twenty-six still has far too many roles to take, far too many hearts to break. Considering dearest Katerina found her doom – oddly so, following this new tendency of nearly to fatally injured main dancers – and Daphne is bathing in her own poison, it should be no fuss to have you back. And boy, does it feel good to be back?
IN RELATION TO
JONAH HUNTINGDON: He was dangerously close to being able to say he got away with murder, that spineless rat, washing his hands in bloody water and pleading no guilt. Many were aware of your quarrels and disagreements, often linked to your big mouth and tasteless jokes – guilty as charged, you are quite the vexing person, but was it enough of a reason to try to have you killed? Moments prior to the show, you two had fought, sneering words of hatred and despise, it was his self-sufficient smile that you found worrisome, utterly unsettling, once he claimed he could do as he desired and face no consequences and it appears he was right. Who knows, the police forces are still searching for the cold-blooded killer who murdered Katerina; perhaps it was him, perhaps you should return the favor and put the blame on him. After all, he does bear a body of crime about him. CRISTINA REYES: The nature of your friendship is based on lighthearted mocking, for the two of you to slyly glance at the ballet’s fresh meat only to giggle over their mistakes is one of your go-to activities. Bless Cristina’s heart, God only knows she means no harm by being your friend, she is far too sweet even if coquette, to call herself such. But she was a ray of sunshine during your painful recovery, little would you know an arm and a few ribs would make such a hassle. If there is something that helped you to endure the pain, it was to have her there to encourage you so selflessly it is hard to believe your luck. One thing you know for sure, that is that you’re glad she did not score the leading role. Who knows, had she done so, there are chances it wouldn’t have been Katerina whom they found closed eyed and cold over dew-kissed grass. FRANCISCO GARCÍA: The ballet corps wasted no time in having another dancer groomed to become your replacement, not like you take it too personally, but it still leaves a taste as pleasant as bile in your mouth. It appears to be he got lucky, at least that is what you can read on his face with every little look shot your way. This is one unforgiving guild you’re both in, it is miracle to say you were even allowed back in. As for Franciso, well, you’re thoroughly unimpressed, only time will tell if he is worthy of your annoyance or not.
WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW
Chances of Survival: Average Applicant must be open to portraying anger management issues Faceclaim is slightly negotiable
Taking auditions!
