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 Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 3:27 pm
All vestiges of sunlight were gone, and that was how it should be. The stage was dark and empty, no props needed for the performance that would take place. The crowd had gathered, talking and speculating about the type of dance that night - modern? Traditional? Gosh, maybe they'd try some belly-dancing! - but for the most part, the air of anticipation was heavy above the scene. It was the kind of atmosphere that reaffirmed, each time, that Grayson Graves was meant to play with fire.
Standing back, his partners at his sides, he shook his hair out. Though normally full and wavy, he'd teased it up even moreso that night, playing up the image of the wild man that he wanted to portray on stage. His face was streaked with color, the effect haunting when the closest light would be from the flames on the ends of his torches. Though it was cold at the moment, especially since his chest was bare, he knew he'd be sweating like a pig by the end of the performance.
That was fine. The paint on his face and body wouldn't melt away. He'd have to scrub his skin until it was raw and red for the paint to come off, and that was just how he liked it.
Music began to filter through, quiet at first, with an underlying beat that belonged in a dance club rather than an open stage. The crowd flared up briefly, excitement raising their voices, before they quieted. From behind them, Grayson grinned and twirled the fans he held at his sides, eager to be on stage. Though he wasn't slated to go on until halfway through the show, the excitement was still there.
The others took to the stage, and the crowd screamed as the bonfire flared to life center stage and the duo began a complicated dance around one another. His blood hummed as he watched them weave around one another, spinning poi and leaving streaks of orange and yellow across his vision like fireworks. Without thinking, he began to tap his foot, then move his hips to the music, losing himself as the songs threaded together to form an unbroken chain.
They finished their act with a flourish, a series of moves so fast they deceived the eye, seeming to be a constant stream of fire as they twisted and twirled their poi. Only Grayson could see the sweat all over their bodies, catch the intense gleam of their eyes when the fire lit them. Only he knew the actual strain and effort of the dance, the heat of the flames, the many near-misses required to make a show memorable.
And when the music changed, took on the sensual flavor of the middle east, he wove his way to the stage, earning catcalls as his image caught the light. The bracelets and necklaces he wore glimmered, and the sequins on his pants flashed light back to the ground while he danced around the center fire, twirling the unlit fans and moving his hips in time to the music.
Then he dipped, catching the ends afire, and truly began to dance.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 4:55 pm
 The dance-studio was practically silent. Strangely, tonight, there was no music, but from the hallway, the soft jingles of heavy sequins bumping could be heard. If one looked inside, they would see a girl. She had an intricate hair-style, one of various shades of autumn. Normally, it would have been labeled 'weird', but, it fit the girl rather well. For, the rest of her outfit was not one you saw everyday. She wore a maroon fitted top, surrounded with elaborate sequins and designs paired with matching golden harem pants, allowing the female's body freedom to move. A mysterious smile was fixated onto her face, but suddenly, she stopped. One would not have been able to tell that she had been practicing for several hours, but as she froze, the heaviness of her breathing made a very visible indication.
When belly-dancing, Arlet Jahar became a different person. Through the expression of dance, she was allowed the freedom to show a bit of the side most never saw. One second, she was bubbly and flirtatious, but when the beat of the drums came to an end, she was back to her old, dull self. Boy, was she tired. Seconds became minutes, which became hours. When dancing, time seemed to freeze. It was only her, the music, and her sly reflection. But alas, she had other things to do, after all, she was still a student in college. There was much work that still needed tending to, the day's happiness would have to come to an end. With a depressed sigh, she tied her hair back into the uniform pom-poms, carried her heavy boom-box, and made for the hallway. It was a rather quiet night, perhaps because tomorrow was a test day. Her class-mates were all occupied filling their craniums with information. Silently, she scolded herself for being such a procrastinator. Down the staircases, past the kitchen, her room was just on the next right. However, though barely inaudible, a loud cheer, an audience perhaps, could be heard from the first floor.
Was there a show going on? Ah! Right! Today, the fire-spinners would be performing! She had a momentary obsession with fire as a child, and though she had given up on it, the ways of the flame had always interested her. There was still homework and studying to do though. But, since when had she ever taken schoolwork seriously? Never. Arlet sprinted towards her room, carelessly threw the boom-box onto her bed, and ran back down to the auditorium. The loud cheering was beginning to fade, the cue for the performers. The ushers eyed her suspiciously, due to her custom, but she quickly flashed her ID, and they warmly smiled in reply, opening the door.
Almost every seat was filled, but Arlet always had an eye for these things. In the first row, one seat was empty, though between a rather obese couple. Oh well, better than nothing. The previous performers left the stage, and the music cued the next set of performers. She walked a bit hunched towards her seat, afraid of blocking anyones' view. She murmured insincere apologies to the couple, and comfortably positioned herself in the seat. At long last, a boy came out. He seemed to be rather well-liked, for several people shouted passionate catcalls. The music picked up the pace, as did his dance. His accessories and costume flashed together in time with the music, as he performed an intricate dance consisting of confusing hand-work, with what seemed to be fans. What Arlet immediately noticed, was that there seemed to be a bit of belly-dancing incorporated into his dance. As if without a care in the world, he moved his hips back and forth, and Arlet could not help but omit a peal of laughter. Bravo, bravo. Then, as he entered the center of the stage, the light focused on the boy, and it was then that through glossy chocolate lips, a gasp was let out.
Grayson Graves! She recognized him for his mysterious beauty. Naturally, long, wavy hair, and alluring eyes of amethyst. But then there were those rumors she also recalled. Something about his parents being gay. Arlet never had a problem dealing with others' sexuality, in fact, she got rather angry when her classmates spoke biased and prejudiced on the matter, as they had done with Gray. He was an old acquaintance. She had never really gathered up the nerve to talk up to him, but that was high-school, and this was college. She'd finally grown up. Would he be able to see her in the dark crowd? Arlet sincerely hoped he did. If not, she'd greet him when the curtain fell. It had been a good idea to ditch schoolwork. The near-by couple threw cold glances at Arlet, as if she was crazy, when she laughed to herself.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 6:28 pm
In truth, the crowd became little more than a blur to Grayson, fading into the background as he focused his mind and body on the dance. He heard the music, dimly, but he more felt it than anything; it was expressed in the shifting of his body, the rolling of his hips, the precise and graceful movements across the stage. Even as the tips of his metal fans blazed and twirled, they only moved in time to the beat, half-circles of light that cast shadows on the dips and curves of his body while he moved.
Though belly-dancing was a new incorporation into his act, and this was the debut of that particular dance, it didn't show in his movements. All confidence and sexuality, he kept his expression sly and inviting despite the intricacy of his movements. Flames brushed by his skin, close enough to nearly burn, but he hardly felt the difference in temperature. On the stage, in front of everyone, he was already on fire. The sheer exertion of the dance had sweat beading all over his body, forced him to control his breathing so that he wouldn't disturb the pattern of the flames as he moved.
Despite the fact that he couldn't discern the individual faces of the crowd, he fed off their energy, played to their whims when the women shrieked at his provocative dancing. Many a man had told him that belly dancing was for women - it was an embarrassment - but in the middle of the act, no doubts existed. It was only Grayson, the music, and the fire.
Sinking to his knees, he lifted the fans above his hand, spinning them so fast it was a wonder that he was able to hold onto them at all. Still he continued to move, the tattoo on his chest seeming to always change shape with the shifting light. He pressed the ends of his fan together, giving the appearance of a circle; they locked in place, and he began to spin it with his hands, the flames blurring until they were a ring of fire above his head.
As the music died, he slowly lowered completely to the ground. The fuel in the ends of his fans was almost completely used, and the fire began to fade and die, leaving him bathed in darkness save for the bonfire at his back.
At the end of the performance, he was still as death, arms above his head, as the music finally stopped.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 1:01 pm
Arlet Jahar could truly relate to his passionate dance. Once you started, it was a fact that the crowd became invisible. The way he meshed all of belly-dancing, fire, and fan-dance was truly amazing. He deserved the way the crowd truly did go wild. It was only when the over-weight man to her right tried to go past her, did she realize that his performance was over. In her mind, the dance was continually replayed, expressions, movements, everything. But, alas, it had come to an end, but Arlet would go to greet him. In front of her, was the wife or companion to the obese man, and behind her, was that man himself. She could scarcely find room to breathe between the two. Maroon-colored eyes began to twinkle as she saw a head of jet black and ethereal blonde coming down the steps. There was a need to rush over to the figure right away, but the traffic was incredible. Huffing with impatience, she finally came up with a defiant solution. What better way to get out then to push away the traffic herself? She slid through the rows of tightly-packed people, murmuring apologies as she swooshed by. Arlet was so close, Grayson was just above. As soon as she slowed down to a calmer pace, another impudent and clearly impatient fellow literally shoved Arlet to the side, pushing the female into the arms of a particular male. Way to introduce herself.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 9:58 pm
The show was over, and Grayson couldn't be more pleased. The turnout had been great, and he thought they'd put on a hell of a performance, not to mention his belly-dancing had gone well. He'd worried, a little bit, as it was the debut of his new act - and his first solo performance - but it had been worth it, so worth it. Sure, he was covered in sweat from head to toe, but he was also extremely satisfied.
He'd sleep well, that was for sure. Just as soon as he reached his bed, he was going to collapse.
And speaking of collapsing, he suddenly had his arms full of girl. Blinking, bemused, he blew his bangs out of his face, looking down with something like puzzlement in his expression. It wasn't entirely odd to have someone jostle him on his way off stage, intended or not, but this had to be the first time he'd managed to actually catch someone.
The crowed was still moving, so he shifted his grip, leading her out of the path of the throng of people, his intention to keep them both from being trampled. When they were off to the side, he brushed her shoulders off, expression pleasant.
"Sorry about that. Didn't want you to get trampled. Are you all right?"
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