L
Lady Alainn
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Original poster
-Micah-
Swinging his trombone case over his shoulder, Micah Mooney bumped the car door shut with his hip and sauntered toward the side door of Cooper & Co Theatre House as the sun's rays slipped lower and lower in the horizon. The theatre house wasn't the largest building in the world, roughly two and a half storeys tall and sandwiched between a clothing store and a dirt alley. Chunks of brick crumbled off the ill-kept walls and the multi-coloured border around the vertical neon sign had long ago lost the ability to flash. What it lacked in aesthetics, the tiny theatre made up for in talent. Big names floated in and out of there on occasion, and sometimes a lucky actor or actress from the troupe made it onto the Big Stage or the Big Screen. It was rare, but it'd happened before.
The rusty hinges squeaked as Micah kicked open the door and instantly his ears were assailed with the cacophony of trumpet bleats, scratchy strings, and flute flutterings. It seemed he wasn't the first to arrive for rehearsals. Winding through the back halls, he passed by the dressing rooms for the acting troupe, his dark eyes lingering on one of the names etched in gold plating on a door. Diane Silverpeak.
The temptation to stand there, to wait to see if she was here already came over him, but with a sigh he picked up one heavy foot and set it down in the direction of the orchestra pit. What would he say to her if he did bump into her? 'Uh, hi, just stalking you. Wanted to let you know I think you're amazing.' His cheeks glowed. It was best to keep quiet for now, otherwise he'd just end up embarrassing himself.
With a whistle, he picked up his pace, arriving at the orchestra pit just as the conductor entered the theatre through the front doors. Micah plopped into his seat between the first trombone and the tuba and worked on removing his instrument from his case.
Swinging his trombone case over his shoulder, Micah Mooney bumped the car door shut with his hip and sauntered toward the side door of Cooper & Co Theatre House as the sun's rays slipped lower and lower in the horizon. The theatre house wasn't the largest building in the world, roughly two and a half storeys tall and sandwiched between a clothing store and a dirt alley. Chunks of brick crumbled off the ill-kept walls and the multi-coloured border around the vertical neon sign had long ago lost the ability to flash. What it lacked in aesthetics, the tiny theatre made up for in talent. Big names floated in and out of there on occasion, and sometimes a lucky actor or actress from the troupe made it onto the Big Stage or the Big Screen. It was rare, but it'd happened before.
The rusty hinges squeaked as Micah kicked open the door and instantly his ears were assailed with the cacophony of trumpet bleats, scratchy strings, and flute flutterings. It seemed he wasn't the first to arrive for rehearsals. Winding through the back halls, he passed by the dressing rooms for the acting troupe, his dark eyes lingering on one of the names etched in gold plating on a door. Diane Silverpeak.
The temptation to stand there, to wait to see if she was here already came over him, but with a sigh he picked up one heavy foot and set it down in the direction of the orchestra pit. What would he say to her if he did bump into her? 'Uh, hi, just stalking you. Wanted to let you know I think you're amazing.' His cheeks glowed. It was best to keep quiet for now, otherwise he'd just end up embarrassing himself.
With a whistle, he picked up his pace, arriving at the orchestra pit just as the conductor entered the theatre through the front doors. Micah plopped into his seat between the first trombone and the tuba and worked on removing his instrument from his case.
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