kitewithfish (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kitewithfish) wrote2008-06-26 06:44 pm
kitewithfish) wrote2008-06-26 06:44 pm
Entry tags:
Day 3: Pre-Show Jitters
Day 3
Genevieve squealed. “Oh, my god. Is that George Clooney?”
The rest of the group perked up immediately. A couple even moved towards the curtain to try and find him in the crowd.
“I’m going to die.” groaned Evangeline and promptly sat down. Only the timely intervention of two of her fellow singers saved her from landing on the floor. Gina plucked The Fedora, symbol of Evangaline’s leadership as musical director of the Nosferatu, off Eva's head and carefully placed it on the couch next to its owner. Against Eva’s red dress, her normally bronzed skin was blanched and sickly-looking. Sarah S, who’d also moved in to help guide Eva to a safe seat, went to fetch her a bottle of sparkling mineral water of some egregiously expensive variety provided by the misguided generosity of the sponsors and alumnae of the A Capella Performing Arts Council.
Eva, with her head between her knees, looked slightly less pale on the expensive leather couch. It was one of three strewn tastefully about the ‘green area’- a pre-show prep area that was only enclosed on three sides and not quite a room. It was enough off-stage for getting in and out of clothes and make-up before you went on. For all its missing wall, it was still lush with mirrors and soft lighting and small trays of gourmet snack food. Not that anyone could stand to eat right now, but the thought was appreciated. Right now the mirrors just reflected back the group of eleven red-draped young women back and forth until it was they made up a mass greater than the crowd outside
Jamila’s head popped up at the minor commotion across the room, but it was clearly being handled, so she ignored it. She was going over her notes again aloud.
“Legs, then Bruiser and Killer.. no! Start with the group’s name, then you, then the Boss, Legs, Lady, Einstein, Rocky, Sax, Lolita, the Russian, Spider-Man and the Boy-then get to Killer and Bruiser and talk about how they’re skipping their honeymoon to be here. Okay, that’s everyone, then the first song…” Jamila’s muttering decreased in volume as she started to worry her the hem of her sheer crimson skirt with her fingernails. It was going to be half hour slot on an a capella themed concert for Hollywood celebrities and Jamilla was doing the introductions-anxiety radiated off her
in waves. Someone put a hand on her shoulder and she jerked.
“Oh, Latifah. Fuck, you scared me.” Latifah gave Jamilla a look that told her Latifah’s opinion of that kind of language, and disengaged Jamilla’s hands from the dress. Jamilla found herself scooped up into a high powered everything-will-be-fine, pre-show megahug that ended up with
her earring stabbing Latifah’s cleavage.
“Ow!”
“Sorry!”
“It’s cool- I have boobs of steel, it’s one of my superpowers.” Latifah mocked a grave expression. “I just wanted to tell you, that you are going to do great tonight. So you can just chill, Jill Shakespeare. You’ll do fine.”
“Thanks, Spidey.”
“No prob. And really, you’ll be fine.”
A new voice broke in. The stage manager shrieked: “Two minutes, ladies!”
“Thank you, Two minutes!” chorused the closest girls, and the call was repeated until everyone in the way back had heard and thanked the wave before them. The stage manager gave them a look that said they were all crazy.
“All right then!” Evangeline strode to the front of the room, The Fedora on her brow and a challenging look in her eyes. “Let’s do this!” It was clear to everyone there that the Boss was back in form.
Genevieve squealed. “Oh, my god. Is that George Clooney?”
The rest of the group perked up immediately. A couple even moved towards the curtain to try and find him in the crowd.
“I’m going to die.” groaned Evangeline and promptly sat down. Only the timely intervention of two of her fellow singers saved her from landing on the floor. Gina plucked The Fedora, symbol of Evangaline’s leadership as musical director of the Nosferatu, off Eva's head and carefully placed it on the couch next to its owner. Against Eva’s red dress, her normally bronzed skin was blanched and sickly-looking. Sarah S, who’d also moved in to help guide Eva to a safe seat, went to fetch her a bottle of sparkling mineral water of some egregiously expensive variety provided by the misguided generosity of the sponsors and alumnae of the A Capella Performing Arts Council.
Eva, with her head between her knees, looked slightly less pale on the expensive leather couch. It was one of three strewn tastefully about the ‘green area’- a pre-show prep area that was only enclosed on three sides and not quite a room. It was enough off-stage for getting in and out of clothes and make-up before you went on. For all its missing wall, it was still lush with mirrors and soft lighting and small trays of gourmet snack food. Not that anyone could stand to eat right now, but the thought was appreciated. Right now the mirrors just reflected back the group of eleven red-draped young women back and forth until it was they made up a mass greater than the crowd outside
Jamila’s head popped up at the minor commotion across the room, but it was clearly being handled, so she ignored it. She was going over her notes again aloud.
“Legs, then Bruiser and Killer.. no! Start with the group’s name, then you, then the Boss, Legs, Lady, Einstein, Rocky, Sax, Lolita, the Russian, Spider-Man and the Boy-then get to Killer and Bruiser and talk about how they’re skipping their honeymoon to be here. Okay, that’s everyone, then the first song…” Jamila’s muttering decreased in volume as she started to worry her the hem of her sheer crimson skirt with her fingernails. It was going to be half hour slot on an a capella themed concert for Hollywood celebrities and Jamilla was doing the introductions-anxiety radiated off her
in waves. Someone put a hand on her shoulder and she jerked.
“Oh, Latifah. Fuck, you scared me.” Latifah gave Jamilla a look that told her Latifah’s opinion of that kind of language, and disengaged Jamilla’s hands from the dress. Jamilla found herself scooped up into a high powered everything-will-be-fine, pre-show megahug that ended up with
her earring stabbing Latifah’s cleavage.
“Ow!”
“Sorry!”
“It’s cool- I have boobs of steel, it’s one of my superpowers.” Latifah mocked a grave expression. “I just wanted to tell you, that you are going to do great tonight. So you can just chill, Jill Shakespeare. You’ll do fine.”
“Thanks, Spidey.”
“No prob. And really, you’ll be fine.”
A new voice broke in. The stage manager shrieked: “Two minutes, ladies!”
“Thank you, Two minutes!” chorused the closest girls, and the call was repeated until everyone in the way back had heard and thanked the wave before them. The stage manager gave them a look that said they were all crazy.
“All right then!” Evangeline strode to the front of the room, The Fedora on her brow and a challenging look in her eyes. “Let’s do this!” It was clear to everyone there that the Boss was back in form.