the future not to come [open]

[Raphael Frazier]

RAPHAEL theo FRAZIER
outfit!twentyseven!bisexual!
returning from retirement!

The big, flashy advertisement of the Nutcracker he had seen earlier the Charles de Gaulle seemed to cling rather snugly onto his mind, and no matter what he just can't seem to forget what was written underneath the title, in cursive gold letter.

La Paris Opéra Ballet.

Raphael had been dreaming about joining the ballet company the first time he knew ballet... that was when he was nine. He had the best time he ever had by joining the company, and even recognized as a Premier danseur--which was equal to Prima Ballerina. Back then the world had been kind to him, he had everything any male dancer could ever dreamed of. He used to hung out with the top crust of the elite society of Paris, had paparazzi followed him anywhere he go. He had everything most danseur could only dreamed of at the young age of twenty five... he only held that title for three months before he literally screwed up.

He limply stepped out from the red bus and looked around as he reached his destination. There it was, standing tall and proud, just like how he remembered it would be in his dreams. It had been two years and half since the last time he ever danced here, but it seemed like an eternity had passed. Raphe pushed the door, acquiring that curious look from several passing girls, probably wondering why a man who can't even walk without his walking sticks was here. He passed the framed pictures, his eyes caught one of himself doing a grand jeté in Don Quixote. He stared at if for a moment before continued to walk to the backstage, using the door at the right of the stage.

It was an emotional moment at least for the former star. Two years ago he had lost his ability to walk, and the moment the news spread the manager of the ballet company came to the hospital where he was in just to tell him that all the contracts he had with them had been canceled... and he even went so far as tearing the contracts apart in front of his very face. He had been forced to sign the papers, before they pushed him on the wheelchair for a press conference of his retirement. Raphe still recalled how empty he felt when the press asked things he didn't even know how to answer--what will he do after this, will he ever return?

After two years passed of course he finally managed to walk again, though his legs still too weak that he needed his sticks to keep him balanced. His doctors had refused to let him dance, saying that if he dance again then his bones might crack anytime and they were sure next time such thing happen they will have to amputated his legs. Raphael pretended he didn't hear any of these and still left Switzerland to return to London. Of course the doctors were right and his legs were still too weak for any kind of energy-draining dances, but surely... surely he could find a place where he will be allowed to watch people train?

He leaned against the entrance of the stage, still standing under the shadows of the backstage, his blue eyes looking straight at the empty center stage for a moment before he put his walking sticks aside and although he was shaking hard, and knew this was pretty risky, Raphael took a step forward, then another. There was an 'x' on the stage, where the center of the empty stage was, and it was where he wanted to go to. He needed to be there, he thought, fully believing that if he could stand at the center stage again maybe he will remember how to walk.

Maybe... maybe he will remember how to dance.

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[Sky Lee]

Sky quietly found her way around the theater. She had long given up on finding a trace of her sisters anywhere. She had politely asked every single person who might have known their whereabouts at the time, and every single one had replied politely that they didn't know. She was tired of running into perfectly proportioned girls with doll-like faces. She had thus decided to instead prowl the theater and see exactly what her sisters had been doing for the past two years.

From her observations, the ballet company had plenty of money to spare. The ballerinas were all finely decked, and the few she'd seen in even partial costume had articles of clothing that were obviously made by the best. The dressing rooms were meticulously clean and bright, and the same applied for all the other backstage areas that usually had a more rough finish to them. She'd even managed to stumble into the room where all the costumes were kept and had been greeted with a face full of pink tulle and satin.

Sky felt the pointe shoes she'd bought specially for her sisters bump against her thighs, and she absentmindedly drew her hands into the bag to feel the cool material. Bloch for Iris and Grishko for Lily. She thought about what to get them, and this seemed like the only reasonable gift for two girls who were so infatuated with dancing. She knew what their favorites were as well as she knew her sisters' names.

Sky's eyes settled on a pristinely white grand piano that was sitting below the stage. Her eyes searched for a moment to see if anyone was looking, before she hurried to the piano. Like everything else in Le Ballet D'or the piano was spotless, without even a speckle of dust on it. She lifted the soft velvet cover off the keys, and felt glee flooding through her when she pressed a key. The sound reverberated perfectly through the theater. Shedding her coat and bag she paused as she pondered what to play.

She finally decided on a march from the Nutcracker. She remembered her tearful sisters who had whined about having to be soldiers instead of dolls. They hadn't been en pointe back then, and Sky had played this for them to try and make them a bit more happy. It was an easy piece and required no octaves, trills, grace notes, or a fast tempo. She struck the first notes, and soon fell into the music, forgetting that the piano was not hers to play or that such loud noises might call the attention of someone that would force her out.