for
brothered
It's weird to be back on stage after... well, after everything. When the war had ended, it had seemed like nothing would ever go back to normal again. But slowly and surely, people had fallen into a new normal, and life continued. For her, that meant singing each night at the Mittelfrank, entertaining crowds of loud, drunken people just glad to be alive.
So was she, she supposed.
When she had been younger, she'd dreamed of walking out into the entrance foyer after her performances in silks and furs. Fans would crowd around her, and she'd shake their hands, press kisses to cheeks of the young boys in the crowd, wait for security to escort her out of the building. That's when her escort would pick her up, whisking her off to dinner at the finest restaurant, or the grandest afterparty, or to some handsome man's chalet for the night.
Tonight, she sneaks out of the backdoor, heels dangling from her fingers and more comfortable boots on her feet. Her face is still made up, but she has a heavy men's overcoat and hat over her dress and hair. Just to be sure she won't be recognized. She's used to the paths people don't frequent, knows the exact route away from the theater to avoid the crowds. Which is why she's plowing right ahead when she stumbles into someone.
Someone she recognizes. "Felix?" Her eyebrows can't possibly raise any higher. "What in the world are you doing here?"
So was she, she supposed.
When she had been younger, she'd dreamed of walking out into the entrance foyer after her performances in silks and furs. Fans would crowd around her, and she'd shake their hands, press kisses to cheeks of the young boys in the crowd, wait for security to escort her out of the building. That's when her escort would pick her up, whisking her off to dinner at the finest restaurant, or the grandest afterparty, or to some handsome man's chalet for the night.
Tonight, she sneaks out of the backdoor, heels dangling from her fingers and more comfortable boots on her feet. Her face is still made up, but she has a heavy men's overcoat and hat over her dress and hair. Just to be sure she won't be recognized. She's used to the paths people don't frequent, knows the exact route away from the theater to avoid the crowds. Which is why she's plowing right ahead when she stumbles into someone.
Someone she recognizes. "Felix?" Her eyebrows can't possibly raise any higher. "What in the world are you doing here?"
