Page 41 of Stolen Omega

I’ll be on my feet all night, but I’m used to running on empty when the situation demands it.

When lunch is well and truly over, and Hallway guy informs us that my extra security guards are on the way, I get to my feet and open the lid of my transport box.

Saturday guy looks at the box and shakes his head when I step into it.

“I was told about this part, but holy shit, I can’t believe you actually go in there.”

Sitting down, and settling in, I look up at his shocked face. “It works. Just take the other guy’s lead when you’re moving me, okay? If you bump the box against stuff, I’ll feel it.”

I know the other guy won’t be Russ, but whoever it is must be better than a new guy who’s never done this before.

“Hey, you never told me your name,” I tell him as he lifts the lid up.

“It’s Harvey,” he says.

“Nice meeting you, Harvey.”

He gives me a bemused smile. “It’s been really weird meeting you, Zelena.”

He closes the box, and I turn off my phone.

The last thing I need while I’m on route to the concert hall is another call from my mother.

I doubt that she’ll do that again, but I seriously need to focus on the show now.

A little bit of pre-show nerves can be a good thing, but if I get any more anxious than I already am, I could turn into a klutz who can’t wear heels on stage without setting someone on fire.

That only happened in rehearsals once, but I still feel super bad about it.

Thankfully, my back up dancer didn’t have any serious injuries, but she did end up with an extreme haircut she never would have gotten if I hadn’t knocked that pyrotechnic effect tower over.

I learned never to underestimate how badly anxiety can affect my motor functions.

My management learned never to use pyrotechnics in one of my shows.

I push the incident out of my head. I need less nervous energy, not more.

Lucky for me my travel time is mostly peaceful, and being alone in the dark, quiet space generally helps to calm me down. I don’t think I would have kept up this weird routine if it wasn’t for that little side effect.

A few seconds pass before I’m moved.

The ride from the suite and down the hallway to the elevator is smooth, the elevator ride makes my stomach feel like it’s in my feet, and a few minutes afterwards I’m being lifted and strapped into the back of the van. Around twenty minutes of travel time later, and I’m being taken to my dressing room at the concert hall, where Anna and Mandy are ready and waiting for me.

Harvey opens the box, and I let him help me clamber out.

I always feel a little wonky after the journey, and the lights in the dressing room feel too bright, but I know I’ll adjust, in a few minutes.

Mandy examines my face and shakes her head. “Thirty minutes in a box, and you still look as good as you did this morning. Unbelievable.”

She helps me over to the makeup chair, letting Harvey off the hook.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, and I bet you were up way earlier than I was.”

“Well, sure, but I know all the tricks to hide the bags under my eyes.”

I get comfortable in the chair while Mandy opens her kit and starts looking through it.

I might have gotten away with no base earlier, but stage makeup is a completely different story.

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