Sneaking Backstage|tag: Alice Ayers INACTIVE

[radsos]

Interesting... last act - or was it his love of Debussy getting to him? Still, Wes clapped along with the rest of audience and even stood, as some others did. But he sank back into his seat early, fishing out the small pamphlet that he had received before coming into the hall. The young man flipped open his cell phone (thank God for there being a way to silence it without turning it off) and let up the last page. Ah, Allison Ayers... The name was one he remembered somewhat vaguely from reading - she was a well-known one, wasn't she? No wonder, though, she at the very least had a lot of talent, if nothing else. Other members of the audience had started to leave as he closed his cell phone and shoved it into his pants pocket before sliding the pamphlet into his jacket. He stood and glanced around, debating his next move very carefully. He had not exactly planned on this when he first came here - had not foreseen it as a possibility only a few hours before - though perhaps he could see to it happening.

An idea sparked up within his mind, rising and falling as he slipped through the seats with his typical notepad and pen under his arm and, glancing around once more, Wesley shoved his hands into his pants' pockets before finding an exit into the lobby. Paying close attention, he more or less hung back into the shadows for a moment before seeing someone who might have been involved in the backstage production and quietly followed them from a distance. He wondered if he would stick out too much? Possibly. He was wearing a somewhat nice suit and was carrying a notepad around with him. Wesley, however, still hoped that this would not draw too attention and rather focused on the idea that he was somewhat hidden from others as he trailed the man backstage. It seemed that no one really noticed his presence - too many people were running around trying to get things done to really care about what the hell someone like him would be doing back stage. The worst of it was one or two strange looks, but, for the most part, they did not have the chance to look long before rushing off.

This seemed to be the trickier part - finding where she was, that is. He slipped into what he figured would be where the girls changed and took advantage of the semi-darkness of the place to search for her with his head down before - ah, Wesley found her! Curiously, yet cautiously, he approached her, tapping her carefully on the shoulder before quickly drawing back, mostly due to the fact that he was unsure on whether she was fine with being touched or not. "Uh... excuse me?" He asked her, trying to both be quiet and loud enough to be heard with all of the talking and noise backstage. "Can I talk to you, umm... Ms. Ayers?" Wes gave a hopeful, apologetic, and admittedly somewhat cheesy grin towards her before speaking once more. "I'm a journalist at the Times... Would you like to be interviewed?" He hoped she had - but if not, there was no harm done seeing as he had not lost anything by coming back here on his own accord. Besides, at least he had acted on doing what he wanted rather than hanging in the background - that would not have gotten him anywhere, now would it have?

[tuna]

OUTFIT:: This dress//
TAG:: wesley //
NOTES:: Sorry I took so long. //

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Applause. What Alice seemed to live for. Fed off of. Without it, she would possibly just… stop. Stop existing. She smiled softly as she took a bow and disappeared off stage after her performance. It was probably one of her favorites in months. She’d been playing the lead in Swan Lake, a ballet she hated simply for its overuse and exposure. And the toll of playing two roles at once was enormous on her. Not to mention the pressure to be the very best. Here, at these benefits, there was no pressure. No reviews to look for in the morning. Just, a fun performance infront of a bunch of donors to a wonderful cause. The Battered Women and Children’s Center. A cause that was close to Alice’s heart. Infact, when she first came to New York, even with all of her money, she stayed here. After leaving Lucas when he hit her, she was scared to be a lone. Unprotected. Especially when she knew he’d follow her.

Alice went to her dressing room, picking up a few bouquets of roses that were outside her door before entering. She placed the roses on her vanity and then sat down, wiping off her stage makeup in favor of a much lighter coat of natural makeup. She then reached down to her feet, un-twirling the ribbons from her skinny legs and pulling them off her aching feet. Her toes were bleeding, as usual, but not really as much as when she did a full show. She pulled off her light pink leotard and tutu and stockings. She stood there for a moment, naked as she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt… gross. Almost as gross as she did when she ate. She stared at her neck bones and the way they jutted out and made her skin look… thin. She turned around and reached out for a dress that was hanging nearby. It was a designers gown that she had agreed to wear in exchange for their donation to the Center. She honestly couldn’t remember their name. She put it on, and instantly felt slightly awkward. She wasn’t a sexy dress person. And this was very, sexy. And the feathers bothered her. She was almost sure they were real, something that really irked her. She shook it off. They were donating thousands of dollars, she couldn’t be disrespectful.

Sighing softly, her dress still unzipped in the back, she stared at herself again in the full length mirror next to her vanity. She reached up and pulled at the tight bun in which her hair was placed. Pulling out the hair band, her long, brunette locks spilled down over her shoulders in gorgeous waves. Suddenly, she saw an unfamiliar face approaching her in the mirror. She stood really still for a moment, in fear, until he poked her.

"I'm a journalist at the Times... Would you like to be interviewed?"

Alice coughed out a laugh as she seemed to struggle to breathe for a moment. She smiled at him through her reflection in the mirror. “You scared the shit out of me. How did you get back here past the security?” she asked, still smiling. Before he could answer though, she waved her hand. “You know what? I don’t want to know. But if you could be so kind as to zip me up?” she asked, reaching up and moving her hair away and over her right shoulder so he could do so.

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[radsos]

Wesley opened his mouth - about to say that hiding from the security was pretty easy actually. Maybe it was because it was a benefit concert? Most likely. Still, it was easy mostly because as long as he somewhat acted like he knew where he was going - even if he did not look like he belonged backstage (other than, perhaps, as a performer) - he managed to sneak out fairly easily still. But he closed his mouth again as quickly as he had opened it, chuckling softly (mostly to himself) before biting a little on his lip to keep himself from doing so. He did not wish her to think that he was laughing at her, after all, even though he could not quite help it.

At the request, Wes nodded, backing up a little and shifting his notepad in his arm before moving to quickly zip her up, feeling more than a little embarrassed by the fact that, in whatever small way it may be, he had just helped her out with dressing herself (which, until then, it was not something he could have said he had helped a woman out with before now). Something told him that, given that he had seen naked women before, this might not be the most normal reaction. "I think I got that right. Sorry, if I got it wrong. " He said with a slight apologetic smile on his lips as he scratched the back of his neck, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her in the mirror. She looked... strange. Beautiful in an odd way, but also quite thin - but this he rather though have expected of a ballerina of all people. Their bodies were supposed to be built to be rather thin, after all - that was what people (well, whoever it was that looked for ballerinas) were looking for in them.

"I suppose if you want me to help out in anyway else before I start throwing you questions, let me know." Wesley bit his lip and mentally hit himself in the head. No! He was not supposed to assume that someone was willing to be interviewed until actually interviewed them. Sure, this was not a policy that a great many journalists adopted, but Wes had - more for the point of having manners and being polite than anything else. "Well, if you let me throw you questions, that is." If she did not - ah, the worst he would feel about it was probably just having this awkward feeling remaining for a few moments, which was all right by him. After all, it could be (and probably would be) even stranger feeling if he hovered around much longer than this - but that was why he was thankful that his ideas for what to ask here were small and easily noted (well, this was due to his style of shorthand more than anything else, but still). Though part of him had now come to question why it was awkward exactly - probably because he had helped her out with dressing? Possibly. Maybe. Probably. Most likely. Definitely.

[tuna]

OUTFIT:: This dress//
TAG:: wesley //
NOTES:: Sorry I took so long. AGAIN. //

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Alice giggled and shivered softly as his fingers brushed up against her as he zipped her up. It was an interesting sensation. The touch of someone else’s fingertips upon her skin. It had been a while since she’d felt such a thing. Even if it was unintentional, it sent tiny tremors through her body. She turned her head slightly to smile at him awkwardly. She giggled softly as he quietly apologized. It was rather adorable.

“As long as you don’t break the zipper, I don’t think there’s a wrong way to do it,” she said softly, releasing her hair from her shoulder to fall down over onto her back.“It just goes up and down, up and down,” she said, realizing almost immediately that her words probably sounded a bit sexual, and she let out an awkward laugh.

“Sorry, this probably isn’t the best time for an interview. I have to get out there and put on a happy face for all of the donators,” she said, taking a seat at her vanity to put her heels on. Her feet ached and begged her not to, but she had to keep up appearances. She had to pretend she fine. Even if her body wanted to scream for help. She couldn’t. After slipping on her heels, she stood up and headed for the door of her dressing room, opening it, but not leaving yet. She stopped there for a moment, biting her bottom lip in thought. She then turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“But if you’d like to be my date for the night, you can sit with me and we can talk a bit now and maybe have lunch and do the interview tomorrow?” she asked. She hoped he would take her offer. It would be nice to make a new friend. They seemed few and far between these days.

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[radsos]

Wesley considered what she said about the zipper for a moment and laughed a little at himself. "Ah, yes, I suppose you are right." A small part of him felt strangely sensitive to the double meaning of the words (he was a writer, not being aware of such things was rather unlikely for someone like himself), but he did his best to ignore these meanings himself (maybe this was because his style did not call for such raunchy jokes, intentional or not). His mind cast about to look for anything else to focus on - ah, the interview? But, then again, no, he listened to her carefully as she spoke, nodding a little and grinning slightly.

"No, don't be sorry. I understand. Not the best timing." Ah, well, he could live without it, though, and only nodded as she moved to leave, choosing to let her leave on her own before going himself. But just as she opened the door and looked back at him, Wes looked up and grinned uneasily at her as she looked over her shoulder at him - proposing that small idea to him. Maybe that would help make things feel less strange between them? Or was he kidding himself? Most likely the latter - he was a rather strange and awkward individual, after all, no matter what was done about it. I'd be fine being your date for the night. We can do whatever questions there are tomorrow. Should be fun, besides." As he spoke, he moved forward and pressed his hand to the door, holding it open. Perhaps it was a delayed gentleman-like act, but it was one all the same.

Part of his idea when he originally thought of sneaking backstage barely ten minutes before? No, not at all, but he would go with it for what it was worth. "Lead the way?" He said with a soft grin on his lips. "After all, I have not been here much." He had been a few times - but not nearly enough to let himself lead the way for anyone any where. So he would leave that up to her - that was likely much safer than anything else he could try to do. Wes nibbled on the inside of his cheek, debating for a split second before offering her his arm. "If I may?" He might have added 'miss' or something at the end of that if he had not thought that he was probably already being formal enough and did not wish to scare her away from the possible interview by being a bit too eager. Besides this, she seemed like a nice enough girl (she would not have proposed what she did if she was not, nor would she have been so accepting of his presence if she was not) and could be an interesting friend - so that would certainly be an extra reason to not scare her away (or, more likely, make her so awkward that it made her think he was a creep).