The Music of the Night - Part 1

Posted on Tue 30th Apr, 2019 @ 10:00pm by Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Commander Mikaela Locke

1,147 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Deck 636 - Kirk Theatre
Timeline: MD-03: 1915

Mikaela Locke hadn't worn a dress in...

Actually, she'd never worn a dress. Ever.

But here she stood, outside the Kirk Theatre, in a black, silk, full-length evening gown with a low-slung back. A chiffon-silk overlay, which went from the high illusion neckline to the floor and covered her arms with sheer blouson-style sleeves. Her hair was down and hung loosely around her shoulders. She had tucked it behind her ears, to show off a pair of teardrop-shaped black star sapphire earrings that had been given to her as a present on her eighteenth birthday. Finally, she had, with the help of Jade Lantz, purchased a new pair of black, suede high-heeled shoes - which she swore were far more comfortable when she tried them on in the shop. She'd only walked from her quarters to the turbolift and from the turbolift to the theatre, but already she was desperate to take them off.

The original plan had been for Paul to pick her up from her quarters at seventeen-thirty, in order to give them time to have dinner together before the show. But, as was often the way, she had had to stay late in ops, and, as soon as it became clear that dinner was no longer going to be an option, she messaged Paul and told him to meet her at the theatre.

She looked around anxiously as people milled past her and into the theatre. She felt like everyone was looking at her, and the quicker she could get inside the better.

Paul had done his best to remain on the edge of the crowd of well-dressed theatre-goers. He wore a black suit with a crisp, white shirt, silver-gray vest and black tie for the evening. He glanced back and forth among the people, looking for Mikaela. Was she here yet, he wondered?

He was certain he glanced over Mikaela twice before realizing that she was the person wearing the floor-length, black silk dress. He walked over to her.
"Mikaela?" Paul smiled at her. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before. You look lovely!"

“Thank you,” Mikaela replied, with a half smile. “And you haven’t,” she continued, her smile widening as she focused on his face, “No one has.” For a moment, she seemed to get lost in his eyes and it was as if she could have been anywhere in the universe. And then suddenly, she snapped back to the hustle and bustle of deck 636. She glanced around, slightly nervously. “Can we go in, please?" she asked, her tone suddenly unsure again. “My feet hurt.”

"I can tell. Why are you wearing sky-high heels?" Paul slipped an arm around Mikaela's waist as the two of them walked toward the theatre entrance and presented their tickets.

“I don’t know,” Mikaela answered, grateful to be heading away from the crowd and through the theatre’s main atrium, “I guess, when I looked in the mirror, my red sneakers just didn’t complete the look as well as I thought they might.”

Paul laughed out loud. "Why does fashion have to be such a pain?" he agreed. "I feel like a sausage in this vest. I don't think I've put on any weight." They strolled across the intricately inlaid floor and toward the carpeted area where the theatre entrances were arranged in a hallway that formed a great arc at the rear wall of the theatre. "Have you seen this musical before?" Paul asked. "And if you did, what do you think of it?"

"I haven't," Mikaela answered, "I'm familiar with it, but never actually seen it. How about you?"

"Never. I'm half-Terran, but I grew up on Betazed. It will be interesting to see how Terran stage dramas differ from Betazoid ones," Paul said.

Mikaela briefly thought to herself that she'd never given a single thought to what Betazoid stage dramas were like. She made a mental note that perhaps, if she ever wanted to continue this conversation with Paul, a bit of research wouldn't go amiss. She looked around at the auditorium. "Where are we sitting?" she asked Paul, changing the subject quickly.

"Orchestra section, tenth row back from the stage, about three seats to the left of the center aisle," Paul said. "Close enough to see and hear, but far enough away to be able to take in the whole scene. I hear this play is rather dramatic, and since the plot isn't a mystery, it should be spellbinding. I can hope anyway."

Mikaela smiled as the two began to make their way down the centre aisle of the auditorium, “From what I’ve read, ‘spellbinding’ might just be exactly the right term.”

They arrived at row ‘J’ and made the customary awkward apologies as they squeezed past two Barzans and an Arachna on the way to their seats. Mikaela glanced knowingly at Paul as she sat down next to the guy with six arms - two of which were extended out slightly further than the boundaries of his seat.

"I can sit there if you like," Paul whispered to her, flicking his gaze momentarily toward the Arachna.

“Could you?” she asked quietly, suddenly embarrassed that Paul might think she was prejudiced. “It’s just a personal space thing,” she whispered by way of brief explanation.

"Not a problem. For me, it's an ulterior motive," Paul whispered with a wry smile. "I can't read them easily."

Mikaela smiled broadly, and squeezed past him and into her seat. "It must be nearly time?" she observed as Paul settled himself beside her.

"I think so," Paul said. Then the lights flickered, which he supposed was the signal that the musical was about to begin. The noise of the crowd quieted and then grew hushed as the lights soon went completely dark, save for the area directly in front of the stage. Then the curtain slowly rose as someone began to play the overture--either from a recording or on an actual organ--though Paul hadn't seen an instrument.

If he had not read the program notes while waiting for Mikaela to arrive, Paul would have had no idea what he was seeing onstage. It looked like a man standing at a podium with his head bowed. Then the stage lights slowly brightened, and the man raised his head and began to speak as if he were addressing a crowd at an auction. He gestured to his side, where a large, cloth-draped thing lay on the floor. The opera house chandelier, Paul supposed.

Mikaela watched with delight as the auction scene concluded and the beautiful chandelier swept upward to the rafters above the stage. Almost subconsciously, she reached a hand across the armrest and placed it on Paul’s thigh, but her eyes never left the stage - her gaze transfixed by the narrative that was unfolding before them.

 

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