By the time he came to the end of the song, there was a lightness in his chest, almost as though someone had filled him up with helium and if he wasn’t careful he’d try to take a step and simply float away.
The crowd erupted the second his last note faded, the twirling ribbon of gold dissipating directly over his head.
He lowered the instrument and gave a deep bow, sucking in oxygen while they couldn’t see his face to help steady himself. Those feelings of intense joy couldn’t be expressed the same way the colors of the beiska could. His persona had been carefully crafted by his mother every bit as much as her musical skills had been, and cheerful wasn’t an attribute she’d allotted him.
Rabbit Trace, the Prince of Music, straightened and gave one last long look out at the crowd before bowing politely a second time. Then he vacated the stage, the continued cheers and applause fading as he strode down the hallway back the way he’d come only seven minutes prior.
“Great job as always,” Professor Ludo told him when he made it to the door of his dressing room. “And if my word isn’t good enough for it,” he pushed open the door and nodded inside, “all of that should be.”
As anticipated, the room, which had been practically barren save his backpack when he’d left, was now filled entirely on one side with wrapped gift boxes and flowers held in vases and a range of colorful papers.
“You’d think you were an intergalactic pop star with how much stuff you get,” the professor said, though his smile never wavered and it was clear it was all in good fun. “Thanks for agreeing to fill the spot, Rabbit.”
“Of course.” He bowed and then the professor was thankfully called away, leaving Rabbit alone. He kept his composure until the door was clicked shut behind him and he was safe from any prying eyes, but then he practically darted across the small space toward the center of the table where one gift in particular seemed to beam at him.
The number of flowers increased with every performance, and Rabbit grinned as he lifted the bouquet from the black opaque vase and buried his nose in the blooms. Twelve in all.
The Rose Ephemeral was a rare breed that cost a small fortune all on its own, a ridiculous splurge Rabbit would never have considered making on himself. Before he’d received his first one, he hadn’t even seen one in real life.
The unofficial name for them was mood roses because they started with dark, blood-red petals, velvety soft to the touch, but their colors changed as they wilted and dried up. There was a range of different colors they could be, but aside from the rosarian who’d cultivated them, there was no way of knowing exactly what color they would end up being in the end.
So far, Rabbit had collected a blue the same shade as the ocean on a warm summer evening, a white that glittered silver in direct light, several variations of red to reddish-pink to pink, and a pale purple. He’d looked up all the varieties and had sort of turned it into a game. He was hopeful that one of the ones he was holding now would end up being a buttery yellow, one of the few colors he’d yet to collect.
He set the bouquet back and plucked the black card from the clip. The paper was smooth to the touch with gold foiling on the outside, the word congratulations shining at him. Every card was the same, and he’d found himself relying on seeing that word almost as much as he did his candy bar. Logically, he knew the sender meant to congratulate him on his performance itself, but Rabbit had begun to associate it with praise for making it through another ordeal. Another panic attack brought on by another performance in front of another crowd that he hadn’t wanted to do.
Flipping the card open, he smiled to himself when he saw the scrawled sentence written across the white inside in red ink.
I enjoyed tonight.
As per usual, the single sentence had no signature after it.
Slipping the card back, Rabbit turned his attention to some of the other items, wanting to hurry up and get out of there before the recital was officially over and the hallways flooded with other performers and people from the crowd.
His gaze caught on a small blue box that had been set directly next to his flower delivery, and he opened it to find a silver necklace. He pulled it from the box and inspected the fine chain it’d been strung on before running his finger over the center, tracing the one-line rabbit depicted on it.
The charm was rectangular, a bit smaller than the pad of his thumb. And the delicate engraving of the rabbit showed the creature mid-leap. There weren’t many on Vitality, since the creature wasn’t native to the planet, but they were common on others in this and most galaxies, so it wasn’t too odd that the sender had been able to find jewelry with an image of one. Still, it was a pretty unique gift, definitely not something a random fan would have sent considering the craftsmanship, and therefore, most likely the cost.
It was also very to his style. Rabbit wore a single silver ring with a sapphire stone set in the center on the middle finger of his right hand when he wasn’t performing. He also had a thin silver rope twist chain bracelet on the same wrist which he never took off.
There was a card, but he was already anticipating the gift having come from Sila, since he was the only person on the entire planet he was close with. It was a fancy gift coming from a friend, but since he was usually given flowers and stuffed animals, he didn’t expect something that expensive to come from anyone else.
Which was why he was so surprised when he opened the card to find the gift had come from Arlet. It was typed and not handwritten, so most likely sent directly from whatever jewelry store she’d selected the necklace from, but was signed with her name. The note itself expressed her desire to give their date another try, with an invite to the Seaside Cinema, a local movie theater located on the other side of town near the beach. The time was listed as tomorrow evening, and she’d apparently already booked them a viewing room.
The only thing missing from the card was her number, so there was no way for him to contact her to confirm other than to simply show up. He checked his multi-slate which he’d left on the table when he’d gone to perform, but she still hadn’t accepted his friend request or responded to his message on Inspire. Maybe she didn’t actually use the app that often.
Thinking about their botched first date made him recall Baikal Void, and his good mood soured some.
Should he figure out a way to turn down Arlet’s invite after all? Rabbit was already mentally drained from the performance today, and he didn’t think he could handle going out in public so soon and putting on that fake mask of his for the entirety of a movie and, most likely, dinner afterward.
As if able to read his thoughts, his multi-slate chimed then, and when he glanced at it his spine stiffened.
His mother had sent him a message from Ignite, the planet she was currently holding a concert on, asking how the show had gone and whether or not Arlet had come to support him.
The necklace still in his hand suddenly seemed like a lifeline. If she’d given him it, didn’t that mean she’d attended the recital with her father? Had she been in the audience just now? Should he try and go find her?
He knew what his mother would say if she were here. She’d tell him to leave and do just that, to chat up Bin Zimir while he was at it and make a good impression. But…that sounded exhausting.
His only other option was to go on this second date and hope things went better this time than they had the first.
