"All the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players"
Then seemingly all too soon, opening night was upon us. Luna and I were a hot mess, flying (somewhat literally) around our penthouse getting ready, constantly laughing, snapping at each other, both aloud and in the privacy of our own skulls, makeup and hair products flying every which way, pairs of shoes, a necklace or two—oh and the Mac-and Cheese . . . what? We had to eat before we went out, didn’t we? Don’t judge our life choices! We are mature and reasonable adults, I swear!
I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but I was more than a little nervous. This would be the first time I’d ever made a public appearance as E. Ueno, the first in many steps I imagined I’d be taking in the near future to go public. Less than a year ago, this sort of thing would have been the furthest thing from my mind, and yet here I was.
Of course, a year ago, we hadn’t rescued the Avengers and Heimdallr hadn’t decided to go all vague and prophetic on me either, so I guess that was just par for the course in my life.
But first, survive opening night.
***
I’d been honestly, privately, terrified about how the show would have been received, but when the curtain went up and the opening refrain of the iconic Phantom of the Opera theme began to play, the audience went wild and I could breathe again. I glanced over at my best friend and smiled slightly. Luna was practically drooling beside me. Dress rehearsals had been one thing, but the actual opening night, what with the lights and the audience—this was her crowning achievement, the kind of thing she’d been working towards her whole life.
This was a jewel in her crown and I would do whatever I had to do to add more jewels to it. I must have let as much slip down the mental link Luna and I usually use to communicate because she smiled and reached over to give my hand a squeeze without taking her eyes from the show. And this is why I love you.
I squeezed back and then retrieved my hand, Ugh, don’t do that—you’ll give me a case of the feels—my insurance doesn’t cover that!
You do see the irony here, don’t you?
I harrumphed quietly and looked away pointedly; Luna’s quiet giggling echoing in the back of my mind. In an effort to distract myself from these, these—what are these feelings, so sudden and new?—yes, I spend way too much time in and around the theater and its people, namely, Luna, but I digress—and looked around the darkened theater. A completely sold out house—with the exception of box Number Five—on Halloween and the seats were packed with people in costumes and other forms of fancy dress. And then I noticed we were being watched, one of those sixth sense sort of scenarios (well, as a telepath, does that make that a seventh sense?) and when I glanced over, there was a man in another box on the other side of the theater, staring.
When I turned to look at him properly, a little difficult to do in the dark, he must have noticed me watching him watch us, and he flashed a smile, I think, and a jaunty little wave, before turning back to the performance. Being kinda, sorta flirted with across a darkened theater—that was the plot of the actual Phantom of the Opera wasn’t it? I shook my head and went back to watching our performance.
***
And I wouldn’t have thought anything more about it until when intermission came and the lights came up, and I looked back over at the other box and there was Tony fucking Stark staring at us . . . again . . . or well, maybe it was me, I did have the dress cut down to Venezuela after all, and Luna was . . . oh no. Luna had her mask in one hand and her phone in the other, gesturing with them to make a point about the lighting. I opened my mouth to warn her and then her phone buzzed. She went to check it and froze.
'Have you thought at all at how good we would look together?'
It read from an unknown number . . . but not an unknown source. Stark was siting over there, smiling like an asshole, phone in hand. Luna’s head swung around and saw him and then she started freaking out, just a little, even if that reaction was overlaid by her rising indignation. “Oh that bitch, did not just—did you see—have you read—“
Luna couldn’t even finish a complete thought, let alone an actual sentence. Not that I could say I was much better. Luna’s prickly enough on her own, but it was practically hard wired into my DNA to protect those I care about—Luna more than counts, however capable she is at protecting herself, but this was her night, and no sleazy playboy with a complex or two was going to ruin my best friend’s night.
So I went on instinct. I leaned over, yanked her close, took a grip of her hair—carefully, didn’t want to mess up her hairstyle—and sank my teeth into the space where her neck met shoulder, one of Luna’s (and mine) favorite biting spots. Luna shuddered and went limp in my arms, just what I wanted. Maybe not the most orthodox of gestures, but it was grounding on a number of levels and since Luna was freaking out on me, well, I went with what worked . . . and if it also meant I could piss the entitled child across the way off, then I had even more reason to do so. I even tilted my head a little so I could stare Stark down as I did it. Bitch please. My dragon.
How effective it was with the mask on, I’m not sure, but my point was obviously made. Stark looked, well, I’m not sure, the distance made it hard to tell, but sort of like a cross between bitch-face and territorial, and I only dimly registered the two other Avengers in the box with him, obviously giving him shit. I removed my teeth from Luna’s neck and murmured quietly, “He’s being sleazy, but this is your night; you’re supposed to be enjoying it. So we’re going to sit back, relax and enjoy the fruits of our success, okay?”
“But—“ I grazed the mark on her neck lightly with my teeth. While Luna’s input was of usually of the highest concern to me, this is one argument I was more than willing to play dirty on. Luna shivered, “ . . . what was the question?”
“That’s better,” I said, pulling back a little and resettling us more comfortably just as the lights dimmed once more.
A few minutes later, Rin?
Yes? I thought back.
We need an escape plan, don’t we? To get out of here without being mobbed and now with Stark paying attention to us . . .
I’m working on it.
Could we use the Phantoms? You know, since the box is open, what if they showed up accidentally, or coincidentally rather?
What, like have them show up on the stage? I asked, trying to follow the still slightly floaty dragon’s logic.
No, that would draw the eye away from the show. But since we incorporated that box's use for the show, and had some of the actors, or their understudies, play "us" and take the bow, I can do that makeup, and in minutes, and then we could Phantom it up!
Okay, now you’ve lost me, silly dragon. Slowly, run through that again for me?
Argh! Rin! You’re throwing off my groove! In the play, the Phantom appears in Box Number Five, yes? As does Raoul. We use that, and at the end, the real phantoms show up, and you know how at the end of the play, the cast claps for the booth, representing their respect for the people backstage? We have them clap for the booth, clap for us, and then one of them turns and "sees" the phantoms, and a spotlight turns and we wave as the phantoms. To be able to pull this off, I'd have to get stand-ins for us, and do look-a-like makeup, which I've done before, so see, it’ll be easy!
Really? Easy? Just like that?
I could tell them that we have to leave early for a meeting with your publisher, or something . . . Which would be understandable. We go onstage, give the illusion that we're the ones in the booth, which we are. . . or were . . . Whatever. My point is once people expect something, it's very easy to fool them.
Which means taking people into our confidence, Luna. I’m not objecting to the idea, just a few of the details. Could you just magic up some illusions of us while we're standing there as the phantoms or vice versa? Wouldn’t that be simpler?
. . . Or we could use magic . . . I was thinking as a theatre kid . . .
You are one, so I’ll forgive it this time. So we’re decided then.
Yup. Luna replied brightly, tilting her head to smile up at me.
Good, now let me get back to the show.
Harrumph!
***
And the plan went off flawlessly. We exited our box to head down to the stage and as we rounded a corner, Luna replaced us seamlessly with magical doubles just as we phased out to go get our ‘Phantom’ gear on, and we arrived back at the theater in the right box to the thunderous applause for our lead actors, which gave us plenty of time to get into position.
Our doubles came on stage, bowed, and bowed again, before the whole cast made to bow, and then one of our actors spotted us. They threw off the whole line, standing and staring before breaking the hold their neighbor had on them and pointing. One of the spotlights swung our way—it couldn’t have been more perfect had we rehearsed it—and there we were spotlighted in all our phantasmal glory. We being made of sass and all other glorious things, were standing on the balcony railings and executed low, almost formal bows, with the extended hand gestures and everything.
And then we vanished.
Our doubles were seen leaving the theater some time later getting into the car and were last seen pulling away from the curb before presumably headed home. We were already home with our drinks and our ice cream when Luna’s phone buzzed again.
'Come back with our Soulmate!'
Luna and I only had one appropriate response.
"What?!"