The Gaiety Theater
Stave 4
Meara Milani was a very fast runner. She could run a mile in six minutes. At school, her coach wanted her to join the track team. She refused though, saying that practices and marathons interfered with other engagements, which she felt took precedence over running.
Meara actually believed that one should only run when they have to escape, but she did a lot of running. Her mother was an alcoholic, and her father was a drugaddict and alcoholic. He was not very nice when he was high or drunk. Well, he wasn't nice in general. Meara wore long sleeves and mittens and sunglasses, even in the summertime. She rarely talked, too, and along with the sunglasses, people percieved a scared and hurt young girl as pretentious.
Her running skills were actually what brought her to the Gaiety.
"Bitch! Don't you tell me that!"
Her father was yelling at her near two blocks from that fateful place late one night.
"Dad, I'm sorry!"
That earned her a slap on the face. He then grabbed her wrist and started to drag her to the alley that was one over from the theater. Pulling her arm behind her back, she screamed as she felt her shoulder dislocate. It felt like broken glass beneath her skin.
"Shut the fuck up! I'm gonna have you on your ass if you don't!"
Meara gasped from the pain. He pushed her against the wall at the back of the alley, and made her scream again. People were started to come near to where they were, momentarily, her dad was distracted. She started to run, every step sending jarring needles of pain to her shoulder that almost took her breath away.
When she was out of the alley, she started to run down the one leading to the Gaiety. She could hear music coming from the door at the end. Hopefully the people would let her in, and she could hide for a while.
He was running out of the alley now, following her. When he couldn't find her, he growled.
"Don't come home tonight, bitch!"
She heard him stalk off, but just to be sure, she kept running to the door.
Just as she reached it, a woman opened the door, and Meara was inches away from colliding into her.
"Please help me." She gasped, the pain almost making her collapse.
The woman looked horrified, but she nodded and led her in.
"What's wrong? is everything alright?"
"No. He...he..." She stopped and took a breath. "He dislocated my shoulder."
"Who, hon?"
"My dad. Look, if you can get it back in, I promise I'll leave."
A man came over now. He was tall and blond. He looked at the woman, then looked at Meara.
"This is Kurt. I'm Esme. Now, Kurt is much stronger than me, and he'll help you. And we won't make you leave."
"Okay." She took a deep breath. Kurt smiled at her and said something to her in what seemed like German. Then, he took her hand and pulled down as hard as he could.
The scream that rang through the theater actually shook the dust out of the curtains.
Meara was almost happy now as she rubbed her shoulder. It was still a little sore sometimes, but that had been four months ago. Four months, and her life had taken a dramatic turn for the better. The majority of her life was spent either at school or the theater. Sometimes, if her mom was facedown on the table and her dad had "buddies" over, she'd sleep at the theater. Stephen and Kurt wouldn't let anything happen to her. Kurt smiled at her as he played a jazz beat, and Alexander and Stephen were completely in sync with each other. Meara prepared to sing.
I've been thinking
We could be singing
Or we could be dancing
Maybe doing a little waltz?
But the dancing won't be sweet
Cause we all have two left feet
But could that be our fault?
Alexander wrote this, and now he was going crazy on the bass. Looking at the lyric sheet in front of her, she decided she would probably never sing a song by Alexander again.
You know, we could be pretty big
If we had looks and lots of money
We'll start with a good producer
And a short skirt with lots of cleavage
Scooping, sliding, tone deaf, bitchy
It's clear that we're all stupid divas
But we're pretty, so it's okay
Get me an album, we'll be dating in no time
I wanna sing and make a video
Get me dancers and a good director
I can lip synch and put on make up
And that'll get me a million dollars
Yes! I'll shop and get expensive things
For free because they like my big boobs
All my photo shoots will let me keep the stuff
Because if they don't then I'll sue
Put away that contract, baby
I'll fire you when I don't get what I want
Don't tell me to tuck me tits in
It's just one more thing for me to flaunt
I will kiss you, really good and intimate
If you put half your money into it
Critics may say that I'm not that good
But my fanbase does discourage that
It's a good thing
To be good looking
You don't need talent
Just good faking!
During the breakdown, Meara went into the seating. She liked getting up close and personal with her audience. It made it seem like she was talking to them. Making friends with them.
I've been taking tips from past fakes
But I've got more than what you need to make
50 Million is good enough for now
When I want more money, to get it I know how
And if you go to a concert
I might give you a second glance
But hooking up? You don't have a chance
It's a good thing
To be good looking
You don't need talent
Just good faking!
"Alexander, was that about me?"
He smiled innocently. Meara kicked some stage dust at him, but she was still pleased with her performance.
Meara actually believed that one should only run when they have to escape, but she did a lot of running. Her mother was an alcoholic, and her father was a drugaddict and alcoholic. He was not very nice when he was high or drunk. Well, he wasn't nice in general. Meara wore long sleeves and mittens and sunglasses, even in the summertime. She rarely talked, too, and along with the sunglasses, people percieved a scared and hurt young girl as pretentious.
Her running skills were actually what brought her to the Gaiety.
"Bitch! Don't you tell me that!"
Her father was yelling at her near two blocks from that fateful place late one night.
"Dad, I'm sorry!"
That earned her a slap on the face. He then grabbed her wrist and started to drag her to the alley that was one over from the theater. Pulling her arm behind her back, she screamed as she felt her shoulder dislocate. It felt like broken glass beneath her skin.
"Shut the fuck up! I'm gonna have you on your ass if you don't!"
Meara gasped from the pain. He pushed her against the wall at the back of the alley, and made her scream again. People were started to come near to where they were, momentarily, her dad was distracted. She started to run, every step sending jarring needles of pain to her shoulder that almost took her breath away.
When she was out of the alley, she started to run down the one leading to the Gaiety. She could hear music coming from the door at the end. Hopefully the people would let her in, and she could hide for a while.
He was running out of the alley now, following her. When he couldn't find her, he growled.
"Don't come home tonight, bitch!"
She heard him stalk off, but just to be sure, she kept running to the door.
Just as she reached it, a woman opened the door, and Meara was inches away from colliding into her.
"Please help me." She gasped, the pain almost making her collapse.
The woman looked horrified, but she nodded and led her in.
"What's wrong? is everything alright?"
"No. He...he..." She stopped and took a breath. "He dislocated my shoulder."
"Who, hon?"
"My dad. Look, if you can get it back in, I promise I'll leave."
A man came over now. He was tall and blond. He looked at the woman, then looked at Meara.
"This is Kurt. I'm Esme. Now, Kurt is much stronger than me, and he'll help you. And we won't make you leave."
"Okay." She took a deep breath. Kurt smiled at her and said something to her in what seemed like German. Then, he took her hand and pulled down as hard as he could.
The scream that rang through the theater actually shook the dust out of the curtains.
Meara was almost happy now as she rubbed her shoulder. It was still a little sore sometimes, but that had been four months ago. Four months, and her life had taken a dramatic turn for the better. The majority of her life was spent either at school or the theater. Sometimes, if her mom was facedown on the table and her dad had "buddies" over, she'd sleep at the theater. Stephen and Kurt wouldn't let anything happen to her. Kurt smiled at her as he played a jazz beat, and Alexander and Stephen were completely in sync with each other. Meara prepared to sing.
I've been thinking
We could be singing
Or we could be dancing
Maybe doing a little waltz?
But the dancing won't be sweet
Cause we all have two left feet
But could that be our fault?
Alexander wrote this, and now he was going crazy on the bass. Looking at the lyric sheet in front of her, she decided she would probably never sing a song by Alexander again.
You know, we could be pretty big
If we had looks and lots of money
We'll start with a good producer
And a short skirt with lots of cleavage
Scooping, sliding, tone deaf, bitchy
It's clear that we're all stupid divas
But we're pretty, so it's okay
Get me an album, we'll be dating in no time
I wanna sing and make a video
Get me dancers and a good director
I can lip synch and put on make up
And that'll get me a million dollars
Yes! I'll shop and get expensive things
For free because they like my big boobs
All my photo shoots will let me keep the stuff
Because if they don't then I'll sue
Put away that contract, baby
I'll fire you when I don't get what I want
Don't tell me to tuck me tits in
It's just one more thing for me to flaunt
I will kiss you, really good and intimate
If you put half your money into it
Critics may say that I'm not that good
But my fanbase does discourage that
It's a good thing
To be good looking
You don't need talent
Just good faking!
During the breakdown, Meara went into the seating. She liked getting up close and personal with her audience. It made it seem like she was talking to them. Making friends with them.
I've been taking tips from past fakes
But I've got more than what you need to make
50 Million is good enough for now
When I want more money, to get it I know how
And if you go to a concert
I might give you a second glance
But hooking up? You don't have a chance
It's a good thing
To be good looking
You don't need talent
Just good faking!
"Alexander, was that about me?"
He smiled innocently. Meara kicked some stage dust at him, but she was still pleased with her performance.