Underground

XIII

The spotlight shone brightly in your eyes as you advanced towards centre stage with your castmates. The theatre roared in excitement as an instrumental version of the opening song was playing; the cast directed their own applause to the directors, the band, the costume and set designers, and finally to the audience themselves.

Adrenaline filled your body as the applause rang true in your ears. You couldn't help but smile gleefully at the appraisal, bathing in its glow alongside your friends. The way everyone had worked extremely hard for the past 6 months was unreal—every ounce of energy went into this very performance.

You were saddened that this would be the final one, the closing night of the performance. While you mourned the ending, you were joyous that it had happened to begin with.

You exited the stage after the curtains finally fell, and immediately your shoulders dropped. Arms embraced you from all angles, pulling you into one of those joyous group hugs that you loved to savour every second of. You laughed happily in the arms of your friends, listening and participating in words and whispers of encouragement and exclamation of the performance that had taken place.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar face.

Jareth.

He lingered in the wings, slightly obscured and hidden by shadows. He looked the exact same as you had last seen him; his mismatched eyes glued to your form. You tensed up at the intensity of his stare, feeling shivers roll down your spine. And in his hand was a crystal ball, which he played nonchalantly with, twirling it in his gloved fingers.

You blinked.

He was gone.

The embrace broke and you followed your castmates to the changing rooms, where makeup and hair care accessories were scattered across every surface. Random articles of clothing strung haphazardly over chairs and the floor, shoes messily piles and sticking out.

"I'm just going to be sobbing for the next year," Penelope joked as she slumped into her chair, focusing her attention onto the mirror that displayed a red lipstick mark of her name in the bottom corner. You slid into the chair next to her and started removing your character's accessories; earrings, necklaces, bracelets...

"Me too," you said in agreement. You blinked at your own reflection, half expecting it to start moving by itself. You scrutinised is closely, watching for any indication that it wasn't truly yours. But it followed your every movement closely, and you tried not to roll your eyes at your own paranoia. "I'll be waking up at 3am singing-crying."

Penelope let out jovial laugh.

You stripped out of your costume and lovingly hung it onto the rack, feeling the material one final time between your fingers before finally letting it go. You always became too attached to your character when playing them; it was part of the job. You felt like a piece of the character always stayed with you. Well, you were going to take a piece of the character's jewellery home with you and maybe a prop from the set, just as a cute reminder of the character you got to be. It would be stored away safely in the box that contained other trinkets from previous performances that you'd done, since you were a child up until now.

"Oooh," Penelope called teasingly from behind as you stepped away from the rack. She held up a small white gift bag, a pink ribbon attached at the top with a small hand written note. She dangled it in front of you to take; you gently pinched it from her fingers and skimmed your eyes over the message. "[Name] has an admirer!"

' Your beauty knows no bounds. Your talent is to be admired. Call for me and I will be there. '

It was a note written in cursive. Harry didn't have the neatest hand writing ever, so you knew that this couldn't have come from him. Inside the gift bag was a beautiful rose and a crystal ball.