Post by MIRANA VAN LEURWECK on Mar 29, 2013 22:58:38 GMT -5
The opera was finally over.
Though Mirana couldn't say that she didn't enjoy a bit of Mozart here and there, The Magic Flute was only able to be stood by the young woman for so long. She hadn't taken German in school, opting like most young freshmen for the more "romantic" language of French. It'd stuck with her for the most part, despite that she had no-one to speak it with after high school, and she wasn't taking a college course for it either. For the most part it remained one of those talents she assumed might come in handy one day. However, it was not the language in which the opera was in that made her want to leave.
...It was because the whole thing reminded her of the dreams. Of Wonderland, and her kingdom in which she was a prisoner in her own palace. "No, don't think like that! That's not who you are! Not here...not in real life." she scolded herself inside of her mind. Relaxing in the back of the family car, Mirana closed those blue eyes as it pulled away from the opera-house. Throughout the evening she'd kept up a smile when it was needed, and now it fell with the breath that escaped her lips.
"Home, Miss Mirana?"
The heavily-accented voice broke her out of her reverie and she looked to the driver, giving him a nod. "Yes, Jurgis. Thank you." Mirana replied, with a genuine smile. Jurgis had been around for as long as she could remember---a Lithuanian immigrant who'd moved here with his wife shortly after Mirana was born according to her parents, and he'd already been working with them for about a year when Mirana was turning four. Her mother said that his family had been on the edge of hard-times, and her mother wasn't one to turn away those in need, especially if it might help her social standing.
She cut herself off from that type of thinking as well--her mother, her parents, had been some of the only people there for her after the incident. Mirana would've given a shudder, had her masks been less perfected. Glancing at her cell phone she saw a friend from college had called her during the show, and made another mental note to return it when she got back to the penthouse--the drive home was for her to calm the frayed nerves that'd been frenzied by the opera's reminding her of the dreams, which was something she tried to think about only immediately after waking.
Rummaging through her small clutch again, she found her small I-pod shuffle, which was a light blue colour, earbuds wrapped around it. Unraveling them she put one in each ear, and pressed play, not remembering what had been playing.
"---out on the edge,
and I'm screaming my name like a fool at the top of my lungs...
cause my echo, echo, is the only voice coming back
Shadow, shadow, is the only friend that I have...
Listen..."
Mirana listened to the man sing the words as the city passed by, with a growing feeling inside of her. It was ineffable, but whatever it was halted in its invisible tracks on her chest as the car came to a screeching halt, sending the girl called the White Queen in Wonderland into a small gasp, one of the buds falling from her ears. "J-jurgis?! What happened?" she asked, in a probably too excited voice.
"It is just a flat tire, Miss Mirana. I will have it fixed soon, do not worry. There is spare in the trunk."
Mirana's heartbeat began to slow down, and she took in a breath. "Okay." she nodded, and then looked out the window. They'd stopped, fortunately, at a non busy part of the street, or at least, close enough to the curb of the sidewalk to avoid being hit. Getting out of the car, she stood beside it, probably looking quite the sight in what she was wearing: a dress that went all the way down to her feet, in a mix of lavender and white, making it a very pale looking shade of purple, but only in certain angles--it mostly just looked white. Her golden locks were let down, and curled, giving her an old Hollywood sort of flare which was only accentuated by the small touch of gloss to her lips.
Though Mirana couldn't say that she didn't enjoy a bit of Mozart here and there, The Magic Flute was only able to be stood by the young woman for so long. She hadn't taken German in school, opting like most young freshmen for the more "romantic" language of French. It'd stuck with her for the most part, despite that she had no-one to speak it with after high school, and she wasn't taking a college course for it either. For the most part it remained one of those talents she assumed might come in handy one day. However, it was not the language in which the opera was in that made her want to leave.
...It was because the whole thing reminded her of the dreams. Of Wonderland, and her kingdom in which she was a prisoner in her own palace. "No, don't think like that! That's not who you are! Not here...not in real life." she scolded herself inside of her mind. Relaxing in the back of the family car, Mirana closed those blue eyes as it pulled away from the opera-house. Throughout the evening she'd kept up a smile when it was needed, and now it fell with the breath that escaped her lips.
"Home, Miss Mirana?"
The heavily-accented voice broke her out of her reverie and she looked to the driver, giving him a nod. "Yes, Jurgis. Thank you." Mirana replied, with a genuine smile. Jurgis had been around for as long as she could remember---a Lithuanian immigrant who'd moved here with his wife shortly after Mirana was born according to her parents, and he'd already been working with them for about a year when Mirana was turning four. Her mother said that his family had been on the edge of hard-times, and her mother wasn't one to turn away those in need, especially if it might help her social standing.
She cut herself off from that type of thinking as well--her mother, her parents, had been some of the only people there for her after the incident. Mirana would've given a shudder, had her masks been less perfected. Glancing at her cell phone she saw a friend from college had called her during the show, and made another mental note to return it when she got back to the penthouse--the drive home was for her to calm the frayed nerves that'd been frenzied by the opera's reminding her of the dreams, which was something she tried to think about only immediately after waking.
Rummaging through her small clutch again, she found her small I-pod shuffle, which was a light blue colour, earbuds wrapped around it. Unraveling them she put one in each ear, and pressed play, not remembering what had been playing.
"---out on the edge,
and I'm screaming my name like a fool at the top of my lungs...
cause my echo, echo, is the only voice coming back
Shadow, shadow, is the only friend that I have...
Listen..."
Mirana listened to the man sing the words as the city passed by, with a growing feeling inside of her. It was ineffable, but whatever it was halted in its invisible tracks on her chest as the car came to a screeching halt, sending the girl called the White Queen in Wonderland into a small gasp, one of the buds falling from her ears. "J-jurgis?! What happened?" she asked, in a probably too excited voice.
"It is just a flat tire, Miss Mirana. I will have it fixed soon, do not worry. There is spare in the trunk."
Mirana's heartbeat began to slow down, and she took in a breath. "Okay." she nodded, and then looked out the window. They'd stopped, fortunately, at a non busy part of the street, or at least, close enough to the curb of the sidewalk to avoid being hit. Getting out of the car, she stood beside it, probably looking quite the sight in what she was wearing: a dress that went all the way down to her feet, in a mix of lavender and white, making it a very pale looking shade of purple, but only in certain angles--it mostly just looked white. Her golden locks were let down, and curled, giving her an old Hollywood sort of flare which was only accentuated by the small touch of gloss to her lips.
