Chapter one: The beginning of the end

Trigger warnings for those who need them

Substance abuse and chronic pain

I’m flying.
Arms outstretched, I soar through the sky and come down on the other side of the stage. Rolling my foot through the jump to keep the landing light.
The music swells around me as swing my leg out into a pirouette.
And another one, and another one.
My eyes are swimming around the candelabra on the corner of the stage.
My head feels light.
It’s hard to focus but it’s okay.
My body knows what to do.
The audience starts clapping after the fifth pirouette.
I sink onto one knee, holding my arms high into the sky.
Tonya closes the distance between us with four kitten hops and grabs my arms. Then flings her leg up behind her and freezes on the spot.
In the front Otto and Tashi are dancing their routine.
We just need to wait here while holding this position until they recede back into the background and we can take over the spotlight again.
Tonya’s hands gently squeeze mine for a moment.
I look up at her. Is something wrong?
Then my heart sinks as I notice her expression.
Her mouth stands in that perfect performer smile. The kind we all wear on the job.
But her eyes are judging me.
She knows!
She knows what I did before the show and she wants me to know she knows.
I swallow hard and try to focus elsewhere. The weight of her body leaning on me suddenly feeling like a judgement.
But she doesn’t understand.
She cannot feel the things I feel.
The nagging pain in my leg nor the relief that the cigs bring me.
Besides, I’ve been doing a good job.
She should just mind her own business.
The weight lifts and I get pulled up by my partner.
Her eyes look different now, focused.
There’s no time for petty squabbles when we need to work.
She wraps her arms around mine and dips deep underneath my legs spaying hers outs behind me for a moment before I pull her back again.
In my arms, I flip her over like a pancake. Then dip her down again with her now facing downwards.
Then I lay her down gently.
Step backwards out of the way and get ready for her to jump.
Tashi and Otto gracefully appear to my sides while Tonya does her floor routine.
Tashi smiles at me.
Otto just smiles.
Tonya rises smoothly from the floor and then she dives towards us.
Otto grabs her shoulders and passes them to me.
I pass them on to Tashi leaving me with Tonya’s hips.
Meanwhile, Otto hold her ankles.
Together we raise her up high. Hands repositioning carefully as she twists and turns above us.
Her long, golden-tulle skirt wafts into my face at times but I pretend not to notice.
After this, there’s only the part where Darren and Selena do their thing and then the performance is over.
We dip through our knees letting her get off gracefully. Then glide off the stage.
I pick up a glass of water from the tray behind the stage and-
“What the hell do you think are you doing, being high during the performance?” Tonya hisses loudly in my ear.
“I did a good job didn’t I?” I respond calmly and try to move away from her.
She always gets so angry over such insignificant things.
“Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to to a routine, knowing the guy holding you up is rara out of his mind?”
“I’m not rara, I just took a cig for pain relief. Besides Otto and Tashi were there as well, you were-“
A loud bang erupts next to my face. I pull away from the sound with a jerking motion. “Tonya what the hell!? They might hear you on stage.” I hiss at her.
“Actually, I didn’t even clap all that loudly.” Tonya scoffs. But her mouth is pulled into a victorious smirk.
“What’s going on here?” Tashi asks timidly.
“Valentine’s rara.” Tonya crosses her arms.
“I’m not, it’s just for pain relief.” I sigh. “I took one cig before the performance and now Tonya is making a whole thing out of it.”
“Why? He danced fine right?” Tashi asks.
“Exactly.” I concur.
She grunts. “It’s not about that, it’s about safety.” I note her shoulders tensing up. Her hands balling into fists.
I take a careful step back before responding. Then roll my eyes. “Relax, I wouldn’t just drop you.”
“Maybe we should just leave this till after curtain?” Tashi suggests.
The tension in the air is thick.
I shrug. “Sure, but I don’t think there’s much to discuss.”
I leave the two be and head to my dressing room.
I should have a good ten minutes before curtain and I don’t feel like spending those stood next to a volcano.
Besides I need a sit down.
For as much as Tonya complains about how scary it is to be carried by me. Carrying her isn’t a fun job either.
And I’m just waiting for the ache in my leg to come back even stronger than before.
The door to the old prop department opens up. “Valentine? What are you doing out back?” Donna asks carefully.
“Tonya’s being mean to me again.” I pout.
The beautiful redhead’s expression pulls into an adorable smile. “Oh poor you. Do you wanna talk about it?” She asks, opening the door for me.
“Gladly. Although I only have ten minutes.”

I enter the small but cosy living quarters of Donna Gerris and her brother George.
I’m not entirely sure how or why Donna convinced the actor director to let her live here.
But she has done so long before I came to work here.
There’s not much here; a table, some chairs, a small stove, a bed and a piano.
George is in the orchestra pit at the moment since he’s the theater’s pianist.
But Donna is a singer. And this being a ballet play, this is her evening off.”
“Did you drink water yet?” She asks as she sets two glasses on the table.
“A little, but thank you.” I step to the table and sit down. I pick up the glass and have a sip.
“So, Tonya was mean to you.” Donna opens the conversation while I drink.
“Oh right.” I set down the glass. “I smoked one cig before the show and she immediately attacks me for it. Claiming it’s unsafe and all that while I could dance the role of The Moonman with my eyes closed probably. And nothing happened! I did fine, just like always, so she’s just being dramatic for no reason.”
I expected her support, her pity. But then perfect smile pulls into a grimace. “Doesn’t your head get all mushy after you smoke?” She asks carefully.
I shrug. “I barely notice one cig anymore. Besides it’s not about my head, it’s about my leg. She can’t expect me to lift her on a nagging leg.”
Donna looks at her glass for a moment.
I get the feeling she’s about to pick Tonya’s side in a moment.
“I gotta head back. Thank you for the water.” I set the glass down.
Her shocked eyes flutter in my direction. “Right, be careful.”
“Don’t worry, all that’s left is the bow.” I dip down before her.
Her mouth pulls into a smile.
She looks so damn gorgeous when she smiles.
Then I quickly rush out again.
And head back to the stage.

Tonya has set herself up on the other side of the stage.
Fine by me.
“Hey, are you all right?” Tashi appears beside me.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I wave away his concern.
“Oh, good.”
We watch in silence as Darren and Selena run in circles together. Bringing about the end of times as they do so. Then one bright aluminium flash later the play is over.
There’s a stunned moment of shock.
Then the first audience members start clapping carefully.
The rest joins in.
Darren prances in our direction while Selena heads toward the other wings.
Darren grabs my hand to drag me onto the stage.
I grab Tashi’s and then…well Tonya’s not on this side anymore so I guess we just have an uneven amount of people on each side.
Least she could do is send one of the others our way right?
How unprofessional.
But we jump onto the stage all the same and recombine roughly in the centre. We step towards the audience and bow.
The applause feels incredible. Like a shower of love and admiration.
Warm, sparkling and endlessly addictive.
I could stand there forever.
Drink in this feeling.
But then the curtain closes.
Locking the audience away again.
I lean on my good leg as I head back to my dressing room.

My dressing room is pretty plain, no bed here. Just a vanity table, dresser and a mannequin to put the costume on.
The water in the porcelain jug is freshly heated and a bit too hot to touch.
I pour a little of it into the bowl and cut a flake of soap into it to dissolve.
I try wiping away the grease-make up with a piece of newsprint first.
There’s no stopping the water in the bowl from going entirely grey by the end of the process, but if I get rid of the worst first I can at least delay the inevitable.
After crumpling up the third piece of paper I test the water. Hot but manageable and the soap has fallen apart nicely.
I dip the corner of my cotton towel into the water and wipe it over my forehead, cheeks, nose.
Slowly but surely peeling back the layers of theater before ending back at my own face.
I check behind my ears and up my nostrils before drying my face with the only dry corner that’s left.
I take off the costume. The long foil-covered pants and steel-embroidered jacked that turn me from Valentine Garcia into The Moonman.
I find a little splotch of make up on my collarbone still and wipe it off before dressing up the mannequin.
The costume is far too delicate to wash. It will just stand here until the end of the run. Sprayed with vodka every so often to keep the armpits and crotch from smelling.
I pull my own clothes from the dresser. Nothing fancy, just pants, shirt and coat because the weather has been shit.
I undo the ribbon keeping my blonde hair together. It drops down onto my shoulders in short curls.
I wonder if the others are going to the steampowered envelope again?
I could do with a dri-
Three knocks at the door interrupt my train of thought. “Yes!?”
The door opens and in steps the actor director, Barnaby Craig.
He spills into the room with his fat stomach and silly hat. “Garcia?”
“Yes?”
“You’re high again.”
I scoff. “Did Tonya complain to you?”
“I didn’t need her too. I could smell it from a mile away.”
“Sir, it’s just one cig. It’s for my leg I danced fine, I-“
“You know the steps by heart, but your movements are far from fine. Ballet takes focus and precision-“
Says the guy who doesn’t dance.
“-things you hamper with these drugs.”
“All right, message received. Good night sir-“ I try but he merely lifts an eyebrow in response.
“Gar- Valentine. I don’t think you can dance while high, and I don’t think you can dance without the cigs anymore.” His tone has changed. What is this supposed to be? Fatherly concern?
I don’t like where this is going.
“It’s late sir, how about we talk about this in the morning?” I try.
“I know how much this theater means to you. And I’ve held you on for much longer than I should have for that reason. But your leg is only going to get worse like this. While it pains me to make this decision, I can’t allow this to continue.”
“I can do it without.” I try “I’ll just bear the pain, it’s fine I-“
“I truly regret letting you back onto the stage before you were fully healed. But I cannot turn back time. Nor bear all responsibility for that myself. I can only try to make amends.” He holds an envelope in my direction with the company logo on it. “I hope this will cover the time in-between jobs. I hope you find a place that fits you better, Valentine.”
What?
This can’t be happening for real.
It’s bullshit!
“But we’re in the middle of a run!?” I gesture at the costume. “Who’s gonna be The Moonman tomorrow!?”
“Harald will fill in for you until I find a replacement proper.”
I scoff as I snatch the envelope from his hand and look inside.
An iou of a hundred coppers.
Is that all?
Stingy bastard, I carried this theater for years and this is how he repays me!?
“Valentine, I’ll be needing my key back.”
My nose wrinkles up at the request “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“You’re making a mistake you know.” I tell him, dead serious.
“I’m willing to take that risk.” He tells me. His voice is calm, but I can see the corner of his mouth twitch.
Asshole.
I grab the key from my pocket and drop it onto the floor. “If you want your damn key. You can grovel for it you piece of shit.”
I grab my wigs and make-up and stuff them in my bag.
Barnaby just stands there, waiting patiently for me to leave.
I want to punch him.
But instead I slam the door shut as loudly as I can.
From the corner of my eye I spot red hair and concerned eyes peeking out from the door at the end of the hallway.
I don’t want to talk to her right now.
I turn my back on her.
And walk out.

It’s raining.
Of-fucking-course it’s raining.
First I get fired, then I drown.
The world hates me.
My leg complains as I try to make it up the rooftops so I hide beneath a bridge and smoke until it shuts up for a minute.
I clutch onto the railings for dear life, slipping over slick slate shingles and rattling roof tiles.
I’m almost surprised as I arrive at the ladder to my landlord’s window that I haven’t fallen to my death.
I don’t have windows of my own.
But it’s okay. I pay the guy ten coppers every week for a crappy room without windows.
Right of way through his windows is the least he could do.
His name is Benji. Though I’m not even sure if that’s his first name of last. And upon entering his room I find him making out on the couch with a guy I vaguely recognize.
I close the window with a snap and they dart apart like red-handed teenagers. “You’re back early.” My landlord remarks awkwardly.
I don’t know why they’re so worried about getting caught. The man is in his late thirties for fuck’s sake.
I shrug, lie. “I didn’t feel like drinking.” And head on to my room.
My room isn’t anything to write home about. A couple square meters, just large enough to fit a bed, washing table, chair and a blanket chest.
Inside Venusia, it’s all most of us can afford.
I slip my hand into my coat pocket and pull back a sad, soaked carton. I grimace bitterly at it, partially tearing the lid as I try to open it up.
Then pick out a damp cig.
Try to light it.
Fail.
Fuck.
I manage to keep myself from chucking the whole thing out, but only barely.
Instead, I lay the cigs out on an old newspaper to dry and vow to buy a cigarette tin once the rain stops beating down outside.
I pull off my soaking-wet clothes. Leaving them in a heap on the floor, and lay down on my bed.
Staring up at the ceiling my mind starts running in circles.
They’re gonna miss me.
Two days from now they’ll be pounding at my door. Unable to find a replacement and desperate for me to come back.
I pull my blanket over myself.
Close my eyes.
It’ll be fine. I think.
Just give it some time.
It’ll all be fine.