Scales and Cigarettes [Libretto/Sovay]
Aug 17, 2011 1:11:19 GMT -5
Post by Jessica S on Aug 17, 2011 1:11:19 GMT -5
A fiery pain pierced through Libretto Fannen's throat as her sweet, rich voice navigated yet another round of impossible scales. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but in her mind she could still see the obnoxious image of the blue-skinned, white-haired pianist and vocal coach that sat in front of her.
"Ah - ah - ah - ahhh," Libretto sang, her eyelids whipping open as she hit the last and most sourest of notes. "That's it," she said haughtily, walking away from the piano in a rush, her long black satin robe swishing against the plush burgundy carpet of her lounge slash rehearsal room. She stopped at the small glass bar, angrily pouring a healthy dose of dark liquor from a crystal decanter into a small glass.
"What do you mean, 'that's it?'" her pianist demanded. Libretto already had a mouthful of liquor, so she opted instead to wave him away, the beaded sleeves of her robe swinging as she did. "Miss Fannen, with all due respect - " he began.
Libretto swallowed quickly, slamming the glass back on the bar. "With all due respect nothing!" she yelled. "I said that we are done for the day. What part of that didn't you understand? You're replaceable. Get out now, or you'll find out just how replaceable you are. Do you understand me?"
The pianist began picking up his sheet music, grumbling all the while. Libretto ignored him, instead pulling a cigarette from the delicate ivory box on the bar and lighting it with a long, vintage lighter - a relic from an earlier time that she had fallen in love with at an expensive shop. As the pianist was heading towards the door, Libretto heard the sound of the door bell - a familiar series of notes from a popular opera.
"Whoever that is, let them in," Libretto commanded him. She paced over to the velvet sofa, collapsing into it as she smoked and drank, waiting for the lingering bit of pain in her throat to subside.
"Ah - ah - ah - ahhh," Libretto sang, her eyelids whipping open as she hit the last and most sourest of notes. "That's it," she said haughtily, walking away from the piano in a rush, her long black satin robe swishing against the plush burgundy carpet of her lounge slash rehearsal room. She stopped at the small glass bar, angrily pouring a healthy dose of dark liquor from a crystal decanter into a small glass.
"What do you mean, 'that's it?'" her pianist demanded. Libretto already had a mouthful of liquor, so she opted instead to wave him away, the beaded sleeves of her robe swinging as she did. "Miss Fannen, with all due respect - " he began.
Libretto swallowed quickly, slamming the glass back on the bar. "With all due respect nothing!" she yelled. "I said that we are done for the day. What part of that didn't you understand? You're replaceable. Get out now, or you'll find out just how replaceable you are. Do you understand me?"
The pianist began picking up his sheet music, grumbling all the while. Libretto ignored him, instead pulling a cigarette from the delicate ivory box on the bar and lighting it with a long, vintage lighter - a relic from an earlier time that she had fallen in love with at an expensive shop. As the pianist was heading towards the door, Libretto heard the sound of the door bell - a familiar series of notes from a popular opera.
"Whoever that is, let them in," Libretto commanded him. She paced over to the velvet sofa, collapsing into it as she smoked and drank, waiting for the lingering bit of pain in her throat to subside.