Torn Fragility

In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed-
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted~Edgar Allen Poe



The dress rehearsal went very smoothly, except for my frayed nerves. Somehow I had managed to tape the back of the torn canvas so that in the front only a hairline crack showed. I had had to repaint the parts of the scene work destroyed but I had miraculously done so just before the stage manager started his usual half serious morning rant about his lazy workforce.

I washed my face in the restroom and swept back my now waist length hair with a white ribbon I always had tied around my wrist. Should I get it cut? A pixie cut like Erica’s would be nice. I straightened my overall, decided it was pointless and began to fix my smudged eyeliner.

‘Rose,’ my reflection spoke soundlessly. I gasped and flew away from the sink staring at the mirror where only seconds before someone, who looked like me but was not, had been.

Breathing heavily I stood up looked at my perfectly calm reflection and gave it the finger.

“Leave me alone!” I hissed and stalked out of the bathroom grateful no one had seen my display.

Backstage I helped move around a few props and position my backdrops trying to calm myself with mindless physical work. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Erica move towards me looking very downtrodden.

I caught her in a sideways hug and realised that I was slightly taller than her. She really does look like a little pixie.

“What’s wrong? Did someone forget their lines? Did you?”
She shook her head and blew a blue strand of hair from her eyes.

“Ah…The director doesn’t like your hair?”

“I don’t understand it; he was fine with it a few days ago, now suddenly that the real thing is around the corner he’s telling me to either dye it or get a wig. Preferably a wig since it’s too short.”

She was playing Portia, the rich heiress. She had been chosen for her spunk but it was understandable that the uncreative director, who wanted to stay true to the feel of the time, didn’t want her in jewels and silk with a mop of blue hair.

I laughed at her expression of disgust. Even though she was three years older than me she could easily pull off being someone much younger. “We’ll visit the costume department once the rehearsal is finished. I’m sure Rene will have something for you.”

She nodded and was about to say something but the director shouted that their break was over. Sighing wearily she whirled around, her costume rustling and stormed off towards the stage.

After her cheerful aura faded from the air, my thoughts became dark once more and I struggled not to sink down on the floor and cry.

I can’t believe this is happening to me again.

Is it about time I tell someone? Or will they pity me for the world I’ve created in my mind? Only, it wasn’t in my mind, if only it was.

“Rose,” someone said at my shoulder and I jumped spinning around on the spot. “Whoa! Did I scare you?”

The voice was warm and belonged to Hugo, the lighting technician who was here temporarily just like me. He would be going to University next year as well.

I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled up into his green brown eyes. “Sorry, I’m just a bit edgy today.”

He lifted a hand and scratched his head, his smile lopsided. “Yeah, everyone is I guess. I still can’t believe it’s the real thing in a few days. Oh!” he said suddenly dropping his hand. “They want you on stage, apparently someone…argh! I can’t explain. Come and see.”

I followed him, puzzled, wondering what they needed me for; I had finished my work and would be off for the next two weeks until the rehearsals started for the next production.

On stage, everyone, backstage crew, actors, even the stage manager, was crowded around something I couldn’t see and they parted and whispered when I made my way to the centre of the circle, Hugo right behind me.

I stopped dead still and my hands rolled into tight fists. There was a bouquet of fresh red roses, so fresh droplet of dew still clung to their fragile transparent petals. The bouquet was wrapped in brown paper upon which someone had written, “Roses for Rose.”

Sickening.

“It just suddenly appeared out of nowhere,” Erica said at my elbow. “I nearly tripped over it when I was saying my lines…”

The director came on stage suddenly and not knowing me personally he wasn’t as curious as everyone else and flapped dimissively at the bouquet. “Get that offstage; I‘ve had enough drama for one day dealing with these prima donnas, I don’t need it from the crew as well.”

Numbly I picked up the bundle of roses that nearly filled my arms. Erica threw me a look that clearly said she wanted to discuss this later. I trotted off towards the studio and was just closing the door to when someone pushed it open. I turned around to face Hugo and his sound technician friend Thomas. He was a brilliant, amazingly talented musician but followed his friend around wherever he went even if it was to work here, wasting away his talent...just like me. There had always been an ‘otherness’ about him and that seemed intensified today.

“What now? Is there a dead body with my name on it?”

“Why weren’t you surprised? You picked it up like a sack of potatoes.” Hugo was struggling not to laugh and I wondered what had given him cause for humour.

I glanced at Thomas who was looking away. “You don’t know anything about this do you? You two like pulling stunts like these.”

Hugo shook his head. “We don’t go in for stuff like this. This is just creepy. I wonder who it’s from? A secret admirer?”

I wish it was that simple, I thought shaking my head slightly.

“Whoever the guy is I feel sorry for him,” Hugo said staring pointedly at where my hand, clutched around the stems of the roses, was poised over the dust bin.

I pulled my hand back. “I think I can hear Walter calling,” I said referring to the stage manager.

“Nice try but I’ll be keeping my eye on you,” Hugo laughed and he and Thomas turned to go. I grabbed Thomas’ arm and pulled him back.

“You saw who it was didn’t you?” I said gently although I was burning with impatience.

Thomas bit his lip and looked at the retreating back of Hugo. “I’m not sure what I saw Rose. Let’s just say I think we both know what it was and it definitely wasn’t human.”

He tugged himself loose. “I’m not getting messed up in that again, I’m sorry. I would help you but I’m on the edge as it is. I barely escaped with my sanity.” I knew exactly what he meant and watched him go without a word of protest feeling oddly lightened.

So I’m not alone. It seems that others like me have just been as targeted.

I left the roses on the window sill, gathered my bag of equipment together, slipped on my shoes and headed outside to the parking lot. It was late afternoon already, I could scarcely believe it. I stared at the clouds savouring the fresh air, air that didn’t smell of turpentine and a stuffy closed areas. I climbed into my beat up rust bucket of a car. It was in such bad condition that it was scarcely road worthy. But my father had recently offered to help pay for a second hand car I had had my eyes on for a long time, in much better condition with seats that still had most of their stuffing.

“What do you want now?” I breathed out and rested my head on the steering wheel.

“We haven’t finished our game,” Talia said leaning back and sniffing disdainfully while she looked around with mingled disgust at my car’s interiors. “We were ahead point wise till now but I’m starting to gain the upper hand again. Running away doesn’t end the game little Rose. Only if one of us wins can you walk away without fear of chase.”

“How exactly did I score these points?” I looked at her in the rear view mirror seeing that she had adjusted my appearance to match her tastes even more. My brown hair was much darker and my eyes were green instead of mud brown. Her smile twisted my features till they were unrecognisable. She was beautiful in a dark way, like an evil me.

“Haven’t you figured that out yet? Since I’ve grown so fond of you, I’ll enlighten you.” She leaned forward and rested her arms on my shoulders. “Whoever has the strongest hold on our favourite Max.”

“Obviously your hold is fear,” I muttered whilst scanning the parking lot.

She began to play with a lock of my hair, twisting it around her fingers. “That is irrelevant; I have the upper hand.”

I licked my lips getting ready for a question session; now was my chance to stop living in ignorance. “Why do you want Max anyway? What will you gain by helping that Not-Max slowly kill or whatever he is doing to the real Max?”

Talia laughed and the sound set me thinking of cold dark nights. “Naïve little human. They’re the same person. I wanted Max for his beautiful piano playing, and when I found out about his…more exciting other self, I gave it life in my world and I promised it life in the real world if it could get rid of the weaker Max. It amuses me to see them fight against one another so especially as they wanted the same thing.”

I swallowed heavily. “And what of me? Is my involvement just mere amusement as well?”

“In a way, yes; I was growing bored over the years of their seemingly endless struggle. But for once I wanted to do what I had been offering to countless foolish humans for centuries.” Her voice had adopted a slightly self-pitying and bitter tone.

I twisted around in my seat to face her but she was no longer behind me.

“Farewell me,” she whispered from nowhere. An airy kiss settled on my skin like a butterfly’s touch and was gone in a moment.

I looked down at my hand where a small square card with a rose on it had appeared. I thumbed it open.

“Max is looking for you...