Before the Show
She sat, the fingertips of her right hand stroking the ivory keys, her left hand massaging the knot that had formed in her neck. This concert was it, the one that would make or break her musical future, and she didn’t want to lose it. The stage remained dark and the seats were all empty, but she imagined they were all there, waiting for her to play, watching her knead the muscles in her neck. She had to remain strong, or at least look strong, if she wanted to succeed. No one found success during moments of self-pity and tears.
The soft shuffle of gentle steps was the only sound now, coming from behind her, from behind the stage’s heavy curtains. She knew it was him, her lover, her support, her lifeline. He would reach her soon and would offer her words of encouragement and love. He was her secret hero; his strength was hers too.
Stepping slowing towards the piano bench, he rubbed his hands to ensure their warmth. He knew she needed him. He loved that she needed him, it gave him purpose. Gently he placed his hands on her shoulders. He could feel the tension in her muscles and began to knead her shoulders, trying to loosen the stress and strain.
She began to melt under his warm touch. He passed his strength through his fingertips into her soul. She knew she would be okay; she knew she would hold onto his strength for both.
Written for: http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/