[693] Backstage Thoughts

Hi guys, this is my first post here! I hope I'm doing this right. Crit 849

I'm currently taking a creative writing class but the prof gives us absolutely no feedback, so I wanted to find an outside source to read my work and rip it apart. I'm not good at this, but I want to grow and I want to improve. We were asked to find a picture and describe the memory that goes with it. I found a photo of me and two of my fellow dancers backstage right before a show and I wrote a very short piece about that.

Here's the google doc link Yes, I prefer to write in comic sans. No, I will not be accepting feedback about that.

And I'll also copy paste it below if you'd prefer to read it here.

Backstage Thoughts

My weight shifts from one foot to the other as I crack my knuckles one more time. The bass booms loudly and it reverberates comfortingly through my bones, but the sound of a rough landing on the other side of the curtain makes my shoulders rise again.

Olivia is leaning against the wall, rolling out her wrists and breathing deeply through her nose and then out through her mouth. I take in a breath to say her name, but end up just sighing instead. Shuffling slightly further away from the frosted over window, I drop into a lunge, futilely trying to stretch out my sore hamstrings. Each movement sets off a chain reaction of protests throughout every muscle and joint, but my nerves settle slightly now that I’ve given myself a task.

The nearby curtains seem to glow, and the edge of them shows a seam of blindingly bright light. It shifts through several colors before settling on a lilac tint just as the music grows softer. The bass dies down and I stand back up, smoothing my hands over my hair to check for any rogue flyaways that escaped my earlier hair gel attack.

My palms are still slightly damp from the water we drank a few minutes ago, cupping our hands under a nearby water bottle filler and then sipping from them. My voice had gone slightly hoarse from cheering, so the cool water had tasted both stale and heavenly. I’d walked back to the curtains with my hands held out in front of me, carefully avoiding any stray drops falling onto my costume’s crimson fabric.

Footsteps come quietly tapping up the stairwell, and we both glance over just in time to see Hazel nearly face plant on the last stair. She stumbles a bit but still holds a bandaid up in the air triumphantly. I try to smother a laugh and end up grinning anyways as she hands it to me. Hazel smacks my shoulder until I sit down and start pulling the bandaid open. My heel is still pretty bloody from where I had somehow ripped off a callus in the middle of a turn, but the bandaid covers it well enough for me to probably get through the next few minutes. Probably.

I try not to move as Olivia reaches down and rubs a mascara smudge from under my eye, but I end up turning slightly towards Hazel to once again reassure her that there still isn’t any lipstick on her teeth. Olivia turns back to the curtains and I idly fix a stray pin that was starting to fall out of her hair. The cold floor boards keep seeping into my bare skin, so I start shifting my weight from side to side, once again rolling through the aching joints in my ankles. They click loudly enough that it echoes over the music and both girls shoot me a harsh look. I crack a near quiet joke about having broken the left side one too many times and Hazel rolls her eyes with a knowing smile.

The beat starts to crescendo and we silently form a line. Some dry powder poofs into the air for a second as we swivel our feet in a small box of rosin. The dusty pine smell reminds me of late nights at the studio and my eyes shut for just a moment, letting the memory wash over me. Hazel sneezes softly and my eyes open just in time to watch the lights start to dim. My hands tremble as we all link them together, squeezing each other tightly while the other dancers exit through a curtain on the other side. The audience should be deafening, yet my rabbit quick heart somehow drowns it all out.

We breathe and let go, breaking through the shadows of the curtain and stepping out into the light.

My mind goes silent and suddenly there is no one else but me, my dancers, and the endless shine of the spot lights. A sense of calm I’ve only ever felt on stage settles on my skin like the warmest of sunlight, and the music begins.