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"Whatever his name is," I said hastily, feeling the need to quell the rising tide of speculation around me, "it doesn't matter. Just X is fine with me." I switched topics quickly. "Anyway, I must say the expo was quite the experience. I’ve never seen so many inventive minds in one place. I learned a lot about the latest tech in music and performance. It's truly fascinating!"
"That's wonderful," Eli replied, his voice soft but filled with genuine interest.
Lena leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Tell us what you've learned."
I settled back against a plush cushion, my mind racing through the day's events. "Well, X explained how there's this new software that can predict how a song will perform commercially based on algorithms. It analyzes melody structures, beats, even lyrical content. And then there's this virtual reality tech that can create entire concerts with holographic imagery, making it feel like you're right there with the performer."
Their expressions ranged from amazement to excitement as they absorbed every detail I shared. Zara seemed particularly captivated by the idea of virtual concerts, already brainstorming how it could revolutionize stage management.
As dusk turned to evening and our meal drew to a close, Lena brought out a garment bag with an air of mystery. "I had this made for you," she said as she unzipped the bag to reveal a dress that took my breath away.
The white-silver fabric shimmered like moonlight on water, catching every flicker of light in the room. The design struck a delicate balance between innocence and allure—a fusion of bridal gown and lingerie that seemed tailored for an angelic siren. The skirt ended at mid-thigh, offering freedom of movement for my dancing. As I slipped into it, the fabric hugged my body perfectly, as if it were a second skin designed solely for me.
Lena's eyes lit up as she observed me in the dress. "You look perfect," she breathed out, her voice carrying a blend of awe and pride.
Zara let out an excited shriek, bouncing on her heels as she clapped her hands together. "You're absolutely stunning!"
Eli stood by the music player, his fingers hovering over the start button. "Shall we practice?" he asked, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of anticipation.
"Yes," I responded eagerly, feeling a surge of confidence in Lena's masterpiece.
Eli pressed play and music filled the room—a melody we all knew by heart but that sounded new in this moment of shared anticipation. My body responded instinctively to the rhythm as I began to dance—the skirt of my dress fluttering around me like wings taking flight. The rhythm took hold of me, the beats and melodies becoming an extension of my very essence. We lost track of time, each practice run melting into the next, refining the dance, perfecting the song. Eli's touch on the tunes was like a painter adding just the right shades to a masterpiece.
Lena watched me with an expert eye, calling out suggestions that challenged me to push my limits. "Extend your arm more on that spin, Asa. There! That's it!"
Zara chimed in with her usual organizational flair. "Timing is everything. Remember, the audience's pulse should sync with your movements."
Their words were both guidance and inspiration as I danced again and again, feeling the music resonate through the apartment. The air was thick with creativity, each note Eli adjusted weaving itself seamlessly into the fabric of the song.
It was past midnight when we finally collapsed onto the cushions, a collective sigh of contentment filling the space between us. My body hummed with a pleasant fatigue, muscles echoing the night's exertions.
"I think we've got it," I murmured, a smile curving my lips.
"You're going to be amazing," Lena assured me, her belief in me shining bright in her eyes.
Eli nodded in agreement, his gentle voice carrying weight in the quiet room. "You're ready for tomorrow."
With their encouragement warming my heart, I excused myself to prepare for bed. In one of Lena's spare bedrooms, nestled under soft sheets, I replayed every moment of our practice session in my mind—each correction, every note change—feeling nothing but gratitude for my friends' dedication.
Then it hit me—I hadn't told X about the show tomorrow night. The thought of him being there to see me perform sent a thrill through me. Fumbling for my phone in the dark, I typed out a message with eager fingers: Hey, X! I have a show tomorrow night at 11 pm at The Velvet Melody. Would love for you to come and see it. It's for a masquerade party.
The message sent with a quiet chime into the stillness of the night. I placed my phone back on the nightstand and lay back down, anticipation buzzing under my skin like electricity.
* * *
The hum of backstage chatter buzzed around me like a swarm of eager bees as I sat in the makeup chair, facing the mirror, my reflection staring back at me with wide, uncertain eyes. Lena, with her skilled hands and artist's eye, was transforming my face into a vision that matched the ethereal dress I wore. Around us, the backstage room teemed with other performers, each lost in their own rituals of preparation. Singers ran through their scales, their voices rising and falling like waves against a shore while dancers stretched limbs and twirled, their movements painting the air with anticipation. The thick scent of hairspray mingled with the warmth of stage lights, casting an amber glow over everything.
Lena swept a delicate brush across my cheekbones, adding a shimmer that seemed to capture and reflect the very essence of starlight.
"Keep your eyes closed for a moment," she instructed gently, her voice a calming presence amid the growing noise.
I obeyed, listening as staccato footsteps echoed on the wooden floors, each set growing fainter as performers took their turns on stage. Now and again, the door swung open, letting in snippets of the performances already underway—the thunderous applause and the pulsating music. Some burst back into the room with tales of the masquerade party outside, breathlessly recounting sightings of famous and wealthy attendees.
"Did you see who's out there? Damien Black himself!" one dancer exclaimed as she flitted back into the room, her eyes wide with exhilaration.
Another performer joined in, her voice tinged with awe, "And Alexander Forte! I heard he's scouting for new talent tonight."
"The mayor is out there!"
