Fucking greedy bastard. Without thinking twice, I tore out another hundred-dollar bill from the clip. Before I could hand it to him, the son of a bitch snatched it from me and then pocketed the two bills with a triumphant smirk in lieu of a thank you. My heart beating madly, he finally unlocked the entrance door. Brushing past him, I dashed inside, running straight to the doors to the theater. Fingers crossed I wouldn’t be thwarted by another asshole guard. To my great relief, a young girl, who looked to be an usher, stood outside.
“Can I please see your ticket, sir?”
My heart still racing, I waved the ticket in her face. She snatched it and then scanned it.
“Excellent. You’re in Row A, Seat 3 on the left side of the theater.”
She handed me a program. Without waiting for her to open a door, I thanked her and let myself in. To loud cheers and applause, my mother was taking the stage. She looked stunning as always in a long black sequined sheath and her glittering diamonds. Breathlessly, I flew down the aisle to the very front row as she thanked the audience for supporting The Royal Latvia Ballet. More cheers and applause.
I swear the aisle felt like a fucking mile…maybe because I was still so wound up from my trip uptown. I finally got to the front row, where my father in his wheelchair was sitting in the aisle. There were two empty seats next to him…I assumed one for my mother and the other for me. My mother always saved me a seat even though I rarely attended her events. My father, looking debonair in his tux, gave me a puzzled look as it had been ages since I attended one of my mother’s black tie affairs. Breathing out a “hi,” I shrugged off my coat, and took my seat as my mother continued.
“I am very proud to present tonight’s benefit performance of Stravinsky’s Firebird, newly choreographed by the company’s creative director, the one and only Gustave Fontaine. However, due to an injury earlier today, the part of The Firebird will be danced by Miss Willow Rose.”
At the sound of her beautiful name, my chest tightened and my already fast pulse quickened.
“Now, sit back and enjoy tonight’s performance and I’ll see everyone afterward in the Promenade for more champagne and dinner.”
Applause. Applause.Smiling, my mother sauntered off the stage as the lights dimmed and returned to her seat, sandwiched between my father and me.
“Why darling, what a wonderful surprise,” she blurted as the curtain rose, revealing a whimsical forest-like backdrop.
“Hi, Mother,” I mumbled, my eyes glued to the stage.
The music started up and then my eyes popped when a familiar but unexpected figure dashed onto the stage, launching into a series of dazzling sky-high jumps. The audience applauded madly. It was fucking Gustave. What the hell was he doing on the stage? I thought he was just the choreographer, not one of the leads. I quickly glanced down at my program and saw that the prick was playing the male lead, Prince Ivan. What the fuck? He was dancing with Willow!