Work Text:
The blindingly bright lights might inconvenience others in her position, but they do not deter the talent of Lady Bella in the slightest. Her skills in acting– sharpened as a lethal weapon– have been honed for years in a way that many hopeful young stars dream of one day attaining.
Even when her scene partner– bless her soul– mistakenly slips up on her words and fails to bite back a wince in front of their live audience, Bella is haste in cleaning up with an improv line before steering them back on track. Her skills are certainly deserving of being called a talent, perhaps even deserving to be christened a blessing. But a blessing would diminish everything she has sacrificed to get to the limelight.
That isn't to say Bella doesn't get nervous, no, she most certainly does. Her nerves eat away at her like microscopic parasites, she hardly even recognizes their existence until the aftermath when she curtsies at the audience with a smile painted over worries before hurriedly excusing herself to her dressing room.
But this time her nerves are combated equally by curiosity. The source of such mixed emotions being a particularly foreign face that catches her eye; a woman with an appearance like none she has ever seen before. Bella doesn't choke on her lines nor does she miss any of her cues, but the presence of this woman has made her head turn to the crowd far more often than usual. Among the audience, without a doubt, she resembles a star.
Once the performance reaches its end, each actor reclaims a place on the stage, bowing– and from some of the more exaggerated few, blowing kisses. It's not as couth as Bella likes to make herself out to be. Still, once she deems that the attention on the stage has swayed to the audience chattering among themself, Bella can't refrain from pointing at the eye-catching woman and signaling her backstage with a curl of her finger. Bella is certain enough that she has piqued her interest due to the way she cocks her head at her from where she sits, asking a silent question that Bella only answers with a smile before retreating behind the curtains.
Behind the stage is as hectic as ever, she hardly has a chance to breathe before Phonograph rushes to her side, fretting over her with water to quench her thirst and praise to satiate her ego. Any other day she would bask in the attention of her maid– even allow her into her dressing room once she soothed herself to be presentable, but now she must wait with bated breath in hopes that her guest accepts such a sudden invitation.
“Phono dear, an esteemed audience member of ours will be coming back here soon. Be a doll and point her toward my dressing room, yes?” Bella says, appreciatively whisking the glass of water from Phonograph’s grasp and taking leisure sips to display her gratitude. For her part, Phonograph is quick to nod her head and stand by her Lady’s door to greet Bella’s guest once she retreats inside.
The actress is thankful for the way her body works on autopilot in completing the tasks she has become used to because her mind is too occupied to assist. She hums a tune that played during the climax of the play– imagining how that mysterious woman might have took to their performance; her face was expressive yet calculated as if she were only showing what she wanted to be seen. In the whirlwind of her own mind, Bella fails to hear the door opening and falling shut.
“Do you make a habit of inviting random women into your private quarters?” And although, yes, Bella had invited her, her sudden presence was nothing short of a shock to her system.
“Do you make one of entering without knocking?” Bella returns the jest, delighted in the embarrassment the other woman shows through her falter. It isn’t a big deal in her eyes, she invited the woman to her dressing room, not her suite.
The woman steps further into the dressing room– not yet to approach Bella at her vanity– more focused on taking in the extravagant beauty of it. She eyes a painting on the wall as she approaches the loveseat, curiously tracing her fingers over the expensive fabric.
Bella watches her from the reflection of the vanity, not out of wariness but sheer curiosity as her guest crosses each corner of the room to study the decor silently. Only once she begins standing idly, having presumably taken in all of the information that interested her, does Bella finally clear her throat to catch her attention. “Your name, Miss?”
She misses the momentary look of displeasure that her question brings.
“Aurora.” No longer feeling like such a stranger to her surroundings, Aurora finally approaches Bella’s vanity, in this position– the difference in their height allows her to appreciate the vulnerability of her benefactor. “Those close to me call me Michiko.”
This earns the Eternal Aurora a pleased chuckle from the actress, removing her headdress all the while never faltering in their shared eye contact through the reflection of the mirror. “You deem me close to you?”
“I didn't say that- I only shared a fact.”
“In that case, may I call you Michiko?” Bella jests, more than willing to try her luck and see what sort of reactions this woman is prone to.
Aurora sighs, squinting and cocking her head down at Lady Bella– a set of movements that the actress is quick to decide are more calculated than the average person. “You may.”
“Thank you, Miss Aurora.”
Bella doesn’t miss the displeased frown that momentarily crosses Aurora’s face this time, just as short as the first one but incapable of evading her eye from such a close distance– her guest is quick to wipe it off in favor of her usually placid expression.
The Eternal Aurora sets her sights on the headdress as Bella sets it to the side of her vanity, securely on the head of a mannequin that dulls the beauty of the piece in comparison to when worn by The Lady herself. The headdress is eloquently beautiful, the pearls dangle in a way that is perfect for enunciating the main ornaments which make Bella look as catty as she does underneath the spotlight; even without the jewels adorning her head as they do on stage, Aurora still thinks Bella looks no less like a star.
For what it’s worth, Bella goes as long as she possibly can to maintain the comfortable silence, temporarily satisfied with effortlessly removing the intricate jewels around her neck and allowing them to sit on the top of her vanity. “You’re different.” She doesn’t bite her tongue when she says it, allowing The Aurora to take her words as she will. Bella studied her in silence for long enough, yet those were the only words she could think to use when describing her guest.
“I’m not European?” Michiko supplies unhelpfully, eyebrows pinched as she tilts her head down at Bella– Bella turns directly to the woman to mirror her look of mild annoyance.
“That’s not it.” Facing back toward the mirror to remove the last of her jewels– her earrings, Bella shakes her head. “What do you do, Miss Aurora?”
Aurora purses her lips, looking into their shared reflection to admire the likeliness of their fashion; their way of dressing was even more similar before Bella’s headdress was removed. An appearance that undoubtedly denotes an elevated status. “I am a singer, The Eternal Aurora.”
The revelation is lost on Bella. She has never heard of the name, but she does think that the career and name are quite fitting for a woman like Michiko. “The Eternal Aurora…” Bella whispers the name under her breath, even if it doesn’t stop Aurora from hearing her due to the closeness of their proximity. There’s a soft whirring that follows afterward– it resembles the sound of stalling electronics; Bella’s eyes redirect to focus on Aurora’s reflection, but the woman shows no sign of having heard the noise, her expression reflecting a blank stare. “Miss Aurora?”
That draws Aurora’s attention, rapt in the way her eyes settle on Lady Bella with the intention to put an end to her bad habits. “Aurora. Just Aurora.” She hides behind the cover of her fan, willing the fans in her internal cooling systems to quiet down. Aurora feels inept with dealing with a woman like the star in front of her– Lady Bella feels too unpredictable for her to comprehend fully. For as feisty as The Lady could appear one moment, she was softly murmuring her name in a way that made Aurora feel uncomfortably hot in the next.
“Aurora,” Bella says, drawing out each syllable as a sort of sly jest to The Aurora. “Do you hear that noise?” She finally makes it back to the query that had nearly slipped her mind in her dedication to teasing her guest.
“A noise? What noise, Lady Bella?”
As if receiving a cue, the whirring comes to a timely stop and Bella’s eyes narrow suspiciously at Aurora; there’s no way she could’ve missed it if Bella herself had heard it, they’re practically glued to one another with how close they have been.
Bella stands from the vanity, with all of her jewels removed the last thing she has to change from is her gown– something she wouldn’t do yet considering the presence of her guest. “I see. There are many rooms behind the stage, perhaps one of my stage mates is having their own trouble.” She mumbles, a thought she isn’t quite committed to herself.
Now that The Lady has stood up, Aurora notices the disparity in their height. Bella isn’t nearly as short as she seemed before– a few inches taller than her even; Aurora frowns again. “Are you concerned enough that you wish to check on them?” Aurora asks, tilting her head as she follows closely behind Bella to the couch she gestured toward.
“No. I believe they are old enough to take care of themselves, Aurora.” Bella laughs at the novelty of the question; she wouldn’t consider herself close enough with any of her stage mates for her to display such behavior without them seeing her as strange– or stranger than they already do anyway. Bella has learned to pay it no mind. “Would you like a drink?”
Aurora looks down to the table in front of them that Bella occupies herself with, between the pitcher of water or the kettle that Bella pours herself a cup of tea from… Aurora isn’t the slightest bit interested in facing the consequences of either option. “Some water would be nice, thank you, Lady Bella.” Despite her disinterest, her smile is sincere; Bella’s hospitality is appreciated. Fitting in isn’t new to her, she’ll take the cup of water and pretend to sip it in order to satisfy the actress before pushing it to the side to be forgotten about.
Bella isn’t so easily fooled, her eyes are keen to her own craft after all. She cups The Aurora’s face, personal space had always been a troublesome thing for The Lady. For as warm as she is– hot even– there isn’t even the slightest red hue to accompany that feeling, it’s an uncomfortably confusing contrast. Bella doesn’t allow the shock to make her withdraw from Aurora, she presses forward curiously.
“Lady Bella?”
“That explains why you seem so different.”
“Bella– what are you doing?!”
Bella’s hands have roamed– not inappropriately so, but they’ve traveled from their stationary spot on The Aurora’s cheeks up to her ears where they lingered with soft and curious touches before lowering to the base of her jaw. “You’re not human.”
It isn’t a question, so Michiko doesn’t dare to open her mouth to break the silence. Only when Bella’s curiosity gets the better of her and her fingers rest on Michiko’s lips as if she’ll move in an attempt to open them herself does The Aurora finally bother to swat her hands away.
“Bella!” The familiar whirring accompanies Aurora’s horrified yelp. “Do you have no manners?”
Aurora’s mild disdain doesn’t seem to deter Bella in the slightest though, staring at her own fingers in awe. “You’re soft though? Your face, your lips especially.” And whether or not they were artificially stimulated by intelligence she has gathered over time, Aurora did reflect human emotions. Her existence was a puzzling thing to the mind of Bella, considering every possibility of what Aurora’s purpose could be,
“Is that not enough to be considered human?” The Aurora’s lips form a pout– a mesmerizing expression that causes Bella’s heart to trill.
And yet, she doesn’t bite her tongue, “It isn’t.”
Bella’s words cause Aurora’s eyebrows to furrow– it’s a shame, Aurora had believed that The Lady seemed smart, yet, she doesn’t understand how Bella could draw such a flawed conclusion. “I feel and I live. If that is not what defines humanity, what does?”
“What defines humanity?” Bella repeats the question, gaping at its heaviness. What difference between the two of them makes her more human than Michiko? The simple fact that she has a beating heart and not the multitude of wires that assist in the ‘living’ of The Aurora? Just as Bella feels emotions, Aurora has shown herself capable of doing the same thing; just as Bella appreciates the display of art such as her own plays, Aurora has come to do the same. Perhaps refusing to acknowledge Aurora’s humanity was the worst type of insult to her. “I might’ve been wrong.” As much as it pains her pride, Bella admits it without hesitation.
“Might have been?’
“I was wrong, Miss Aurora.”
This brings a smile to Aurora’s face, there’s no use in trying to contain it when she’s spewing a barrage of giggles next, the whirring of her internal fans also sputtering in a display of joy. “As expected of such a talented actress, you have a lot of pride.” It goes without saying that unlike individuals with unnecessary pride, Lady Bella was capable of admitting her wrongs.
“You think I'm talented?”
“You were born to be a star.”
“Oh, Mon Dieu! You’ve not yet seen my best!” Bella hastily eliminates the space between them in her excitement, nearly toppling over The Aurora with how quickly she moves to sit on her knees and cup the woman’s hands. “You must come back next time I take to the stage! Our upcoming show is a personal favorite of mine.” Her cheeks burned with a red hue and uncontained smile, if the woman had a tail Michiko was sure it'd be wagging. She doesn't leave much room for denying her even if Michiko had wished to do so.
“If you are already this radiant, I can not imagine you at your brightest.” Michiko expects to placate The Lady, hoping that maybe a praise or two would distract her enough to forgo a proper answer. Bella doesn’t bite, she only leans further into The Aurora’s personal space with a grin– and Michiko is almost certain that Bella can feel the cool air filtering the heat out of her systems from here. Michiko isn’t strong enough to resist her. “Yes, it would be my honor to come see you again, Lady Bella.”
Bella’s cheeks tinted with her embarrassment; despite the fact that she had been the overzealous and nearly demanding one pushing onto Aurora with her request, the woman spoke in a way that was unfairly charming. She squeezes Aurora’s hands between her own, they're just as soft and warm as any other person she would touch– Aurora is undeniably human whether or not in the most practical sense of the word. The actress is curious to explore the entirety of Aurora and see just how human she is.
A wish she’d push aside for another time. Bella reaches to a spot behind Aurora, grabbing the invitation for the theater’s next big show and pushing it into the hands of her guest. “You’ll be certain to love this one!” Her proclamation is bold and her smile has become smug, aggressively confident in that way she despises to hear people hate her for.
Aurora doesn't flinch, she only scans over the paper with wonder; there isn't much knowledge to be gained from the singular promotional invite– but she does smile at seeing Bella Donna in much bigger lettering than the other cast members. “Certain to love it? Enlighten me on this show, Lady Bella.” She already loved the previous show, she didn't doubt that she'd love this one as well.
“Of course, Michiko! Ah, allow me to tell you all about it.” Bella’s inflection turns gentle, her smile sincere. Aurora is grateful for the focus that the actress has on explaining the key points of the upcoming show because the softness that she breathes her name with has made her fans whirr to life with embarrassing clarity. And her smile– Aurora prays that the sincerity behind this one remains just as eternal as her own title.