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Also I’m going to switch up the narrative style a bit because I had an idea for that and I feel like trying it out XD (Update, okay not much changed. I need practice XD)

Ophelia

So, there was nothing else left to do for now except wait for Enydd to return. Oh, speaking of which, she bounded into the room and rummaged around in her bag, apparently delighted to have it back.

She tilted her head and pulled something out. I peered over at her, curious to see what it was.

“Um, hey Jade, Abriami, Ophelia you might want to look at this,” Enydd said, uncertainly.

I knew what bad news sounded like and it definitely had that turn of voice.

I hurried after the others and peered over Jade’s shoulder.

Now, you of course already know what the glass says. Friend and enemy, dinner, greatest regret, all that. I had to admit, to me the most important out of the list was dinner. I was hungry.

Who would be my enemies? Jade had gotten over her animosity, so that left Cal. Did she count as an enemy? I supposed she did, she certainly regarded me that way. I didn’t dislike her at all, but how much of a difference did that make?

“What should we do?” Enydd asked, worry streaking through her voice.

I automatically looked to Jade to solve the problem. Let her figure this out. She was so much smarter and more determined than I was.

”Proceed as planned. Since it’s giving us a meal, we can discuss the issue over dinner while thinking things through in the meantime,” said Jade. “Let’s get a look at this stage and go practice.” She gestured down the hall. “Lead the way, Enydd.”

I nodded and picked up my bag, then bounced after them.

Jade stumbled forward, Isaias caught her just in time.

“The red carpet starts here,” Enydd helped, a little too late.

A red carpet? I glanced down to my feet, there was indeed a red carpet. Odd. I frowned. I’d been backstage before, it was all wires, ropes, and props, besides being much darker than you’d think. There was never a red carpet, just the dancers crowded together in the wings, watching the light on stage. It looked like another world, one of light and motion and color, whereas the wings were frozen in time, tinted with the smell of hairspray and nerves.

I glanced up, then stopped dead in my tracks.

“How did you do this, Enydd?” I asked, breathlessly.

Posters lined the walls, with each of us on them. My gaze caught on my own portrait. I didn’t recall having it taken. I had expected a picture of myself how I looked while onstage, makeup heavy so my features would be visible, a perfect smile as fake as the rest of my features in the touched-up posters. Or at least a portrait of myself as I looked throughout the day, curls perfectly pulled back, looking as happy and unworried as possible.

It wasn’t either of those.

Instead, I stared up at myself the way I must look in practice. Minimal makeup, my hair pulled back in a tight bun, my expression almost stern with concentration. I wasn’t looking at the camera, as though I refused to face it.

I stood rooted to the floor.

“Where did it get that picture?” I asked, my voice sounding tight and false.

It had my full name, Ophelia Schwann, blazoned across the bottom of it. It was right next to Jade’s, in the center, the place of the lead dancers.

I hated it. I wished I could rip it off the walls. It wasn’t me. It was nothing like me. I didn’t want it to resemble me in any way, I didn’t want that to be the part of me up for display. The struggling part, the part who didn’t belong there, the part who could never keep up and never be good enough.

Jade was looking up at her portrait in barely disguised delight. I wished I could be happy about mine as well.

I pass Jade toward the wings and stand there, watching the stage. I dug through my purse and pulled out a raspberry-colored lipstick. The strongest memory I had of my first performance was the taste of too-old lipstick I’d borrowed from my mother. It was the first I’d ever worn.

I didn’t have a mirror, but I didn’t need one. I had done this so often.

Jade stopped next to me. I smiled wanly and offered her the lipstick.

“Would you like to borrow it?”

Jade stared at it as though I’d offered her a loaded gun. My smile faded. I was just trying to share this with her, it was all I could do.

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Also, @e-n-leonard I find it very interesting how different Jade and Ophelia’s relationships to ballet are! It’s pretty much exactly the opposite, which really intrigues me!