"Stop it!"
Her heart raced with the excitement as she pulled on her dress and pressed down her bodice. She wondered if there was anything she could do for luck. Meg was wearing her lucky dress, she said, although it looked exactly the same as the ten thousand others hanging in her wardrobe. Snow White was wearing her lucky red hair ribbon. Jasmine was wearing her lucky earrings. Belle picked up her copy of Phantom. It was one of her favourites. Maybe that made it lucky.
“I’m so nervous,” Snow White whispered to Belle.
“I’m not!” Meg grinned. “It’s just fun to get involved in the end, really, isn’t it?”
Belle had to agree, although secretly she found herself wishing that she might get a part. At any rate, the concert was on her mind all day.
“Belle?”
“Huh?” She looked up to see Adam standing beside her desk. He, Meg, Jasmine and Snow White were all looking down at her with concern. “Oh, sorry,” she stammered. “I was miles away.”
“So we see,” grinned Meg.
Adam cleared his throat, nervously. “I was asking if you wanted to practise one last time before the audition, Belle.”
“Oh, yes.” She sprang, a little too eagerly, perhaps, to her feet, almost knocking over the table in the process. Snow White giggled. “I’d love to...I mean, I think we should.”
“Right.”
Ignoring the chuckles of her friends, she went to the door, just as it was flung open and Esme stormed in. “Hi,” Belle began, but Esme ignored her. She looked thunderous. She marched straight up to Meg and slapped her across the face.
“Now hold on!” cried Jasmine, stepping forwards to defend her friend, but Esme rounded on her. “You’re no better, you...you little slut!”
“Now that’s enough!” Adam stepped between her and Belle’s roommates. “What’s this about?”
“Hah!” Esme tossed her head. “You three can’t hide behind your friend’s shirt forever, you know!”
“What have we done?” squeaked Snow White, comforting Meg.
“I saw you! You all kept looking at my boyfriend; smiling at him; luring him!”
“Luring him?” Meg stared at her. “You’re mental!”
With a growl, Esme darted at her. Adam made to defend her; not to hit her, as it wasn’t in his nature to hit women, he was just going to grab her and pull her away from Meg, when, to the surprise of everyone, Belle got there first. She rushed at Esme and knocked her away from her friends. Esme staggered into the table, staring at Belle in shock. Her friends stared at her in amazement. Jasmine’s jaw actually dropped.
“Stop it!” Belle snapped, anger filling her. “No one wants to steal Phoebus from you! You get really angry when he talks to me, and I’m his cousin! He’s like a brother to me! Just because you fell in love with him doesn’t mean that everyone who looks at him will! And besides, he loves you; why, I’ve yet to find out, but he does! Why must you be so possessive of him all the time?”
Everyone stared at her. Even Belle was surprised by her outburst; she didn’t know she could shout at anyone so much. This only spurned her on. “You can’t treat my friends like this! They’re all in love with other people so you’ve got nothing to worry about! You’re beautiful! He loves you! What more do you want?!”
Esme blinked at her, and then, almost as if Belle had just struck her across the face, she walked, dream-like out of the room. She was utterly speechless. There was silence in the room for a second and then Adam let out a low chuckle.
“Belle! I never knew you had it in you! Are you alright, Meg?”
Meg rubbed her cheek. “I’ve had worse,” she replied, staring at her friend. “Well done, girl.”
“Someone needed to tick her off,” Belle replied, folding her arms. “She can’t get snappish just because she’s paranoid about losing Phoebus.”
“You go, girl,” grinned Jasmine. “I think she’ll probably quieten down now.”
Belle blushed. “Do you think I was a bit hard on her?”
“Absolutely not!” Snow White folded her arms. “Someone needed to tell her and I’m so glad it was you!”
Belle smiled. “Well, thanks.”
“Come on,” Adam grinned. “We’ll be able to slip in about quarter of an hour to practise before the audition goes ahead.”
“I’m nervous,” Belle told him as they left for the Drama room.
“I don’t see why. You’re good.”
Her blush only deepened. “Well, thanks.”
They said nothing else until they reached the room and even then, the only sounds either of them made were Adam playing and Belle singing.
“We’ll go on, growing closer through the years. Moving on, through the good times and the tears. Ever on, another thousand circles round the sun. A new life has begun. The two of us as one. And we live to keep the promise, we’ll go on. Ever on. We’ll go on.”
“Perfect,” Adam said, as he ceased playing and looked up at her. “You’re perfect. At this.”
“Am I?” Belle ran a hand through her hair. “You don’t think I’ll screw it up or anything, do you?”
Adam smiled. “No, I don’t. But if you do, and this is only “if,” you know what to do, don’t you?”
Belle grinned. “Run offstage and hide beneath my bed?”
He laughed. “No. You carry on. That’s the mark of a good performer to always carry the performance through to the end.”
“How do you know this stuff?” Adam held up his hand and she took it and allowed him to help her down from the stage. “Are you a mind-reader or something, Adam?”
He shrugged, modestly. “I’ve spent a lot of time with Mr Genie; you pick this stuff up.”
Glancing down, Belle saw that he was still holding her hand. Her heart rate quickened. Was this it? The magical moment she had been waiting for? But Adam, embarrassed, dropped her hand and cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re ready for the audition, Belle.”
“Thanks for doing this, Adam. I’ve really liked working with you. I don’t get embarrassed as much when I’m with you.”
“You flatter me, Belle,” he teased. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”
When they got to the main hall, Belle was told that they would be auditioning just behind Esme. Now she was really nervous. To her surprise, however, Esme seemed perfectly neutral about the whole thing. She was dressed in a red and purple outfit and wielding her tambourine. She said nothing to Belle; she didn’t smile or sneer; she didn’t wish her good or ill luck. She just seemed to look straight through her, as if she wasn’t there. Belle took it as a good sign.
“Next!” called Mr Genie, and Esme went up onto the stage to dance. She was very good.
“How can I compete with that?” Belle muttered to Adam.
He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “You’ll be fine, Belle. You’ve rehearsed a lot. Your voice is pitch perfect. You’re going to do well; I can feel it.”
In that split second, Belle seriously considered admitting that she loved him. Why not? They were alone backstage, waiting for Esme to finish. He was being incredibly nice to her. It would be like something from one of her books. She would look at him. He would look at her. They would share that special look that lovers always shared at the crucial climax of their story. She would whisper the words, softly and lightly and then he would kiss her, and it would be so gentle and soft and tender and loving and then...
And where would it go then?
Nerves took over and she shook her head and swung her legs on the table she was sitting on. “Maybe you’re right,” she stammered. “Maybe I’m worrying for nothing.”
“Next!”
Belle got to her feet. “Break a leg,” Adam said, getting to his own feet.
“Sorry?”
“Well, it’s bad luck to say “good luck.”
Belle grinned. “It’s also bad luck to say the name of Shakespeare’s play-”
“I know,” Adam interrupted her, grinning back, “but just in case it’s true, don’t say it now.”
“Very well.”
She went out onto the stage just as Esme was dancing her way off. Mr Genie, from his seat, grinned up at her. “Ah, Miss French! What will you be doing for me today?”
“I’m going to be singing a song called Promise,” she said, butterflies fluttering inside her. “And Adam’s going to play for me.”
“Very well; when you’re both ready, you can begin.”
Adam gave her an encouraging smile before he began to play, and Belle ceased to be nervous. She sang like a nightingale, soft, sweet and beautifully. When she had finished, Mr Genie clapped.
“Very well done, Belle. Very good. And Adam, superb playing. Do you two plan to sing and play together in the concert?”
Belle and Adam exchanged a look. Neither of them had thought about it. “I suppose so, sir,” said Adam.
“Because I think you two should sing the love duet; the one you wrote, Adam.”
“We wrote.” Adam corrected him. “Belle wrote some of the lyrics.”
“Well, then! Who better to sing it? What do you say?”
They exchanged a glance again. From the expectant way Mr Genie was looking at them, there was only one answer they could give.
“Yes.”
“Fantastic! The announcement for the concert date and rehearsal times will go up on Monday! Next!”
“Break a leg.”
