Page 21 of Tainted Empire
She gives a knowing nod. “People change, Gabi. Sometimes, they surprise us. Mikhail’s no different.”
I pause, considering her words. The thought of Mikhail trying to change for me, to respect my needs, is both heartwarming and a little daunting.
“I hope that’s the case,” I say softly. It would mean a lot if he’s really trying to understand what I need. “It’s a start, I guess.”
The roses now beautifully arranged in the vase, I feel a small sense of accomplishment. They’re a reminder of Mikhail’s presence in my life, even in his absence. “I guess this is his way of showing he cares, in his own way.”
“Exactly, and who knows? Maybe this is the beginning of a new chapter for both of you,” Lee smiles and stands up from the counter. “Now, why don’t you put those somewhere nice? They’re too pretty to be stuck here in the kitchen.”
I pick up the vase, feeling a little lighter. “You’re right. They deserve a special spot.” As I leave the kitchen, the bouquet now a beautiful addition to the room, I can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.
The gesture from Mikhail, small as it may be, feels like a bridge between us, a silent communication in a time filled with so much uncertainty.
Chapter 13
Gabriette
I pace back and forth in my dressing room, my nerves fraying with every step. The weight of tonight’s performance presses down on me, making my stomach churn. The room feels too small, too confining, a stark contrast to the grand stage I’ll soon be stepping onto.
“You’re going to be amazing, Gabi,” Lee says, watching me with a reassuring smile. “You’ve practiced non-stop for this.”
I stop pacing for a moment, taking a deep breath. It’s true, I’ve practiced for the last three months and poured my heart into my performance. But this is something new to me. Something… that I feel could make or break me.
“I just... It’s a lot of pressure. I’ve never done a solo like this before,” I say, breathing out a heavy sigh.
Mr. Orlov, standing nearby with a gentle smile, adds, “Gabriette, you have a gift. The moment you start playing, all this anxiety will melt away. Trust in your talent.”
“Thanks, but it’s not just the performance that’s got me on edge,” I admit, wringing my hands.
Lee’s expression softens. “Is it Mikhail being out there?” she asks perceptively.
I nod, my stomach doing somersaults at the thought. “Yeah, and you mentioned Natalya and Kazimir are here too. It feels like there’s more at stake than just my performance.”
Mr. Orlov steps forward, offering a kind smile. “They are here to support you, Gabriette. Mikhail wouldn’t miss this for the world. He’s proud of you.”
His words are meant to comfort, but they only heighten the pressure. Taking a deep breath, I look at myself in the mirror, trying to find the strength that I know is somewhere inside me.
“You’re right,” I say, more to myself than to them. “I need to focus on the music, on the reason I’m here.”
Lee walks over and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got this, Gabi. Just remember, all those hours of practice, they were leading to this moment. You’re ready.”
I give her a weak smile, appreciative of her support. “Thanks, Lee. I’ll try to remember that.”
As they leave me to have a moment alone, I take several deep breaths, closing my eyes and envisioning the music that I’m about to play. The notes, the rhythms, they’re all ingrained in me, a part of me. This is my moment, a chance to express everything I’ve been feeling through the strings of my cello.
Opening my eyes, I feel a bit more centered, a bit more ready. I pick up my cello case, my hands steady now. It’s time to face the music, quite literally.
I glance at myself in the mirror, adjusting my dress and taking a moment to steady my thoughts. “Okay, I can do this.”
With one last look in the mirror, I square my shoulders and head towards the stage.
As I leave the dressing room, the sound of the audience’s murmurs and the distant tuning of instruments hits me. It’s real, it’s happening, and I’m at the center of it.
Stepping into the wings of the stage, the bright lights and the vast expanse of the auditorium come into view. My heart races, but there’s an underlying current of excitement too. This is my moment, my chance to shine.
As the announcer introduces me, I step out onto the stage. The lights are blinding, but through the glare, I can make out the silhouettes of the audience. Somewhere out there, Mikhail is watching.
The spotlight hits me, and every whisper of doubt and every echo of pain from the past year seems to converge in this one moment. I position my cello, the instrument feeling like an extension of myself, a vessel for my story.