Black Bird

There were camera flashes. When the lights dimmed and a drum roll could be heard, a couple hundred people stood up and clapped. The people screamed. They were waiting, waiting for some motion down on the stage. They were waiting for the few select people, people that were known all over the world, to show their stuff. People's hearts were excited. Some feet could have been shuttering on the ground. People could have been seen shifting in their seats, over and over. They could be heard stuttering out some lunatic phrase that someone on stage could pronounce. The atmosphere was filled with commotion. There was no sense of silence, not even from the elderly who looked as if they could doze off in any second. The arena was such a joyful and arousing place in the early evening. People wanted to see talent from those young individuals, which was what they were going to get.

He stood in the shadows. His hands shook and his lips trembled. It was just like any other evening in his few years of production. And as the moments passed, the clapping of the people got more anxious and impatient, making his brow start to bead with sweat. And with a deep breath, his white chocolate gloved hand flicked the perspiration off. This evening was alike any other evening in the theatre. He was used to hearing the audience. He was used to playing dress up. He was used to the woman backstage spreading blue sparkles over his eye. He came to like the neon colored set of fake eyelashes on one eye. The evening seemed to be redundant, and any person would most likely grow sick of it, but he loved it. He knew that his fellow mates backstage seemed to grow tired of the constant acts. He knew his love for performing seemed to make him different from the rest of them.

His love for this talent didn't dim whatsoever over the years.

The evening went as planned, he and his partner, Allison, opened the show with some rekindled words. The night had begun with a puff of smoke. Kris, a not so subtle crush, appeared from that puff of smoke along with his partner Matt. Kris wasn't one for performing; he much preferred singing over anything else. He was the kind of man that stood out with his normal style and his laid back poster. Some would even say that he appeared to be waiting for the bus. People liked him. Girls, and even older women, would squeal over his looks. He had this boyish way which supposingly charmed all the girls, and even some men out in the crowds. He had to admit that he could get jealous of this friend. But, the attention of the audience always came back to him, which made him grin and shine like the moon.

The people loved them, one person in particular. Adam was what the girls swooned over most of the time. Adam received letters from teenagers. People asked him odd and out of the blue questions, which dumbfounded him most of the time. Adam didn't get embarrassed. Adam always showed off his dead drop smile when cameras flashed. He didn't hold back during interviews. People often questioned his demeanor. He always answered questions with confidence. He walked like he owned the stage. He talked like he was the center of everyone's world. He was the king, the unbending power of the production. He brought it into play and made it possible. People were proud. They congratulated him once he bought the building. They congratulated him once he hired. He was proud. He was proud of himself.

And even though he was the king and the attention, someone else seemed to hold as much attention as he. She was beautiful. People loved her, often mistaking her from someone in the past. She was very much like him. She held the attention of the crowd during the finale. She was the last act. She had the most dangerous job of the production. She often claimed that she hated water. She even said that she hated the cold even more. But, those little details didn't upset her nor did they prevent her from performing all those nights. Her smile was white, her body was fragile, and her eyes were blue bird eggs. As soon as Allison offered her, Adam was convinced.

The fact that she was almost more important than him got his roots in a tangle. Jealousy would often plague him. He could be brushing his hair after the show and just watching her walk passed made his brush drop. Adam was a jealous person and the fact that he didn't often find someone that could make him feel this, made his jealousy burn more. He often thought about gruesome thoughts of hatred. He often thought of firing her, but his other mates came to mind. She was a friend, a friend that concluded that she was in fact better than him. And if he was to fire said friend, he would gain more enemies than his liking.

He often ignored this jealousy. Jealousy made him bitter and temperamental. He was supposed to be the most important person of this production. Hell, he knew he was supposed to be. He was stunningly beautiful. She was awfully gorgeous. Her looks didn't work for his jealousy either. She was a record in his eyes. She was a platinum record so old that no one could even mention throwing out. Even though he found himself thinking about her at night and staring at her during rehearsals, he could still feel the heat in his stomach. He tried to get over the feeling, the feeling of resentment. He denied that she was beautiful, mistaking her for just a rag like the rest of them.

Allison, his partner in crime, often knew about his feelings. He usually confessed how much hatred he had for her. He told her about the way she made him feel. He told her about the jealousy that would always consume him when she was around. He told her about the disturbing nightmares he had of her. Allison would not tease him. Allison would not argue over the fact that he was in love with a cast member. The red head would always understand. She would smile and nod, listening as Adam confessed how he felt. Allison often felt like some therapist, listening to someone's undying problems. And even though she felt on the spot at times, she still listened. She would never give any advice, not even uttering something alone the lines of it's going to be okay. Adam didn't need those empathetic words. Adam often just stood up and left the dressing room.

That night, the crowd clapped and the people stood as Anoop and Scott, two other members, folded the red drape in front of them. And as the two creased and folded the huge piece of fabric, Adam had found himself outside of the dressing room. In one careful movement, Adam slightly pushed the white oak door open. He watched as the artist painted on a sparkly red dragon on the right side of her face. She often would look excited, jiggling up and down on the red stool in front of the mirror. The make up artist would often scold her for being an 'immature' and 'impatient' child. Adam would have laughed at that, but this time, she wasn't excited. A tight frown formed her pink lips and her baby blues were down, like she was on the brink of sleep.

"There you go. Now, go dazzle them." The artist added the black top hat, the usual accessory that completed her red and black assemble.

Her eyes opened as she stood up. Adam's frown lowered and formed a crease in his forehead, probably smearing his make up. Her balance. It was what he noticed when she stood up. It was off. It was like watching a broken ballerina in a music box. The girl, that made him oh so very jealous, wasn't right. And at that moment, he wondered if she had a stomach ache.

He disappeared before she could open the white oak door.

Adam said no words to the audience as they waited with impatience. Everything that evening was going so very well unlike the evening previous to that one. Adam had absentmindedly stumbled at the end of the previous evening's show. That was one memory he was not going to forget. He had sworn to never make a mistake like that again.

Like the nights before, Adam attached handcuffs to her wrists and ankles. And while Allison relieved her of the top hat that lopsided on her short hair, Adam swiftly placed his lips on the girl's forehead. It was like a good luck charm to him. And as soon as she walked up the latter to where Kris stood, the audience hooted, clearly more than excited and amused. People always loved her. They loved her performance probably more than anyone else. That's what burned Adam the most. Then the people were silent as soon as Kris lowered her into the lopsided tank – he soon sealed it.

It was all supposed to end perfectly well. The performers would pose at the end of the show. And as always, Adam would take the mic and wish the audience a careful drive home and a good night. Then the team would head back, undress, take showers, and leave. They would always go to a café. They would always order coffee or something to drink, relax, and just talk. They would talk about that evening or what they were doing in the morning. Then they would all leave the café around 1:30 in the morning, go to their apartments, and get a wink of sleep. That was what usually happened. The same routine, at the same time. Everything was supposed to turn out that way.

The night started in a puff of smoke, it ended with Adam's tears.