The house was packed for the highly anticipated premiere of the company's newest ballet. The city's cultural elite had paid enormous sums for the best seats in the house, which of course, varied depending on who you asked. They trickled in, largely unaware of the carefully orchestrated sequence of events necessary to begin the show. All they saw was the lights go down, the orchestra tune up, and then the stage curtain open wide. They "ahh"ed as the bright stage lights came up on a bevy of traditionally beautiful dancers in delicate lilac tutus. They wouldn't see the girl backstage, with the long dark hair, dressed all in black from her glasses to her shoes, nor should they. She was the one who pulled the curtain, and changed the backdrop from an Italian villa to the darkened interior of the church. Part of her job--the job of the entire tech crew--was to remain invisible. And to most people, Tabitha felt pretty invisible, certainly to the company's dancers, who only acknowledged her to ask the audience count. There's a common misconception that "techies" are the people too shy, or not good enough to perform on stage, but that was bullshit. Tabitha loved her job, and she was good at it. She was technically the pin rail captain, but she preferred the term backstage goddess, if anyone was asking. Which they usually didn't. Despite the fact that the show wouldn't be possible without the tech crew, no one gave them much credit. Ever.
It was all about the dancers, the tall leggy, small breasted waifs now moving across the stage in unison. And then of course, there was the prima ballerina, Cassidy. She entered stage left, and glided across the stage, the jewels from her bodice catching the light, creating a glow around her. With her elaborate costumes and gravity defying jumps, she was always an audience favorite.
The audience could suck it, because as far as Tabitha was concerned, it was all about Ryan, the premier danseur. 6'2 with dark hair and intense lime green eyes, Ryan's body was perfectly sculpted; his abs, pectorals, and massive biceps were the result of years of intense training. Unlike those gym bros who spent all their time cultivating their upper body, Ryan's legs were as incredibly powerful and defined as his arms, if not more so, especially the round globes of his ass. He was a gifted dancer, and watching him perform his craft on stage was a huge turn on.
Tabitha sat perched on the metal bar of the pin rail, in between the hemp ropes. Forget those balcony boxes; to her, this was the best seat in the house. From this position, she could see not only the lines of the dancer's bodies, but the emotion on their faces, lost to those sitting thirty feet away. Or at least, that's what she would say if asked. The real reasons were Ryan's chest and ass.
This wasn't a very tech heavy show; the only major set change happened at intermission, which gave Tabi plenty of time to scrutinize Ryan's every...part. She watched as he and the other male dancers in the company tumbled and contorted themselves, and wondered for the millionth time why there weren't more men in ballet. It was time for Ryan's solo. He moved across the stage, jumping, spinning, his muscles encased like sausage in his tights, which did a wonderful job accentuating his attributes. Cassidy entered and they began their pas de deux. Ryan's hands moved across her body as she spun, holding her as he lifted her high into the air, his face brushing the front of her bodice, sliding between her breasts, as they used their bodies to tell the story of two lovers whom the world tried to keep apart. Their passion was palpable. Tabi could feel herself getting wet, the blood rushing down to her labia and clitoris. She crossed and uncrossed her legs.
"You doing okay, there, Tabi?" came the voice of the lighting guy over the headset.
"Fuck you, Phil," she replied good naturedly.
"Keep the chatter down," the stage manager warned.
Ryan ran offstage, and Tabi handed him a bottle of water, which he gulped down. She handed him a second one which he splashed on his face, accidentally spraying Tabi in the process.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to get you wet." Tabi was grateful for the blackout, so he couldn't see her blush nearly as red as the rose tattoo on her forearm. The lights came up and Ryan immediately launched into a grand jete, preparing for the fight scene.
"He didn't mean to get you wet, Tabs," Phil repeated.
"I will murder you and your entire family," Tabi said in her sweetest voice possible.
Ryan and Cassidy were center stage now, preparing for their final lift of the show. Cassidy jumped, but Ryan's hands were off just a fraction. He fumbled imperceptively, but recovered. Although they didn't get as high as they had the night before in dress rehearsal, they never broke character, and the audience remained oblivious, launching into a polite applause.
The voice of the stage manager in Tabi's ear broke the reverie.
"Tabitha, get ready to pull the curtain." Tabi hopped off of the rail and stood by the main's pulley.
"Standing by," she replied into her headset.
The orchestra music swelled and the dance ended. The audience burst into thunderous applause and Tabi pulled the curtain. Ryan ran offstage and stood next to her, panting, covered in sweat. He smiled at her and she acknowledged him briefly before pulling the curtain open again for the company bows.
After the show, Ryan went out to receive his fans, and Tabi set about resetting the stage. As she was sweeping the stage, the air conditioner kicked off, which was typical. Only dancers and patrons got refrigerated air. Tabi twisted her hair into a bun and took off her blouse, leaving her in a black tank top that showed off not only her half sleeve tattoo, but also the tops of her 34C breasts. When she'd finished sweeping, Tabi took off her shoes and walked around the stage barefoot to make sure she hadn't missed anything.
