Behind the Spotlight: A Tale of Passion, Identity, and Forbidden Love Chapter 1 – Show time The characters, locations and events in this story are entirely fictitious and any likeness to the real world is merely coincidental. 'Oliver Perry, this is your five minute call, please make your way to the side stage immediately,' called the cold, metallic voice of the speaker in my dressing room. I wrung my hands nervously as I looked at myself one last time in the mirror before I rose from the rickety wooden chair and departed the room. My heart was pounding, I could feel my pulse quicken as I made my way through the maze of twisty corridors towards the stage. A couple of girls in large white tutu's and a swan like costume hurried towards me. I held the door open for them as they raced past me, no doubt to make a quick costume change. 'Thanks Ollie,' said one of the girls with a warm smile who I recognised as Rebecca Bradshaw, 'good-luck,' she finished as she and her friend turned the corner and vanished. Finally, I found the heavy, sound proofed door that led to the side of the stage and eased it aside. Immediately, I gladly felt my nerves evaporate as my senses became overwhelmed by the power of the theatre. My nostrils became filled with familiar scent of white smoke as I inclined my head upwards and smiled to the warm glow of the lights that basked my face from above. My eyes watched the many, busy stage-hands as they rushed about in a quiet, chaotic way, while my ears were filled with the bellowing sound of Tchaikovsky. …and then things took a turn
Behind the Spotlight: A Tale of Passion, Identity, and Forbidden Love
The characters, locations and events in this story are entirely fictitious and any likeness to the real world is merely coincidental.
'Oliver Perry, this is your five minute call, please make your way to the side stage immediately,' called the cold, metallic voice of the speaker in my dressing room. I wrung my hands nervously as I looked at myself one last time in the mirror before I rose from the rickety wooden chair and departed the room. My heart was pounding, I could feel my pulse quicken as I made my way through the maze of twisty corridors towards the stage. A couple of girls in large white tutu's and a swan like costume hurried towards me. I held the door open for them as they raced past me, no doubt to make a quick costume change.
'Thanks Ollie,' said one of the girls with a warm smile who I recognised as Rebecca Bradshaw, 'good-luck,' she finished as she and her friend turned the corner and vanished.
Finally, I found the heavy, sound proofed door that led to the side of the stage and eased it aside. Immediately, I gladly felt my nerves evaporate as my senses became overwhelmed by the power of the theatre. My nostrils became filled with familiar scent of white smoke as I inclined my head upwards and smiled to the warm glow of the lights that basked my face from above. My eyes watched the many, busy stage-hands as they rushed about in a quiet, chaotic way, while my ears were filled with the bellowing sound of Tchaikovsky.
'Ahh Ollie there you are,' whispered the director in her thick, French accent as she urgently grabbed me by the elbow and led me over to my entrance position. 'How are you feeling?' she asked as she hurriedly flicked through some sheets in the clipboard she held in her well manicured hand.
'I'm fine,' I replied through a dry mouth as I gazed upon the performance on the stage that was occurring only a few meters away from me.
'Good, good,' she said absent mindedly, 'you'll be great, I just know it. Look, I know that you suffer from your nerves at times Ollie but I want you to know that your the best dancer we have at the academy. Just go out and enjoy it ok?' she finished as she patted me encouragingly on the back.
'Thanks, I will,' I answered as a stage-hand appeared to whisk her away for some important matter no doubt, 'Miss Beatrice?' I quickly called before she left, 'how many in the audience?'
'Full house dear, 2000,' she said simply before she hurried away. I gulped, before shaking my head as I began to prepare for my entrance. I exhaled sharply and began to bounce on the balls of my feet as I let the inspirational music begin to fill my every cell. I felt my focus sharpen, my adrenaline increase as I watched the dance in front of me.......this was what I was born to do. I could feel the eyes of the supporting dancers stood behind me upon myself, as they gathered to watch the climax of the show from the wings. I heard them give me some words of encouragement as I began to breathe heavier and bounce quicker. Finally, I heard the note in the music that called for my entrance as with one final spring, I bounded onto the stage.
I smiled joyously as I felt 2000 pairs of eyes suddenly swivel onto me as I ran, as if in slow motion. One step.......two steps........three......suddenly the music hit a high, orgasmic note as I sprang off my powerful right leg. I could hear the faint sounds of the audience gasp as I leaped high into the air, my head held proudly as my legs spread into a mid-air split position. I landed it perfectly and quickly performed six faultless pirouettes before continuing with my solo.......
*
'Fantastic Oliver,' beamed Miss Beatrice as the curtain came down on the rapturous applause of the standing audience, 'congratulations on a stupendous performance,' she said as she bounded onto the stage and patted me on the back.
'Thank-you Miss Beatrice,' I replied humbly as the other dancers began to depart the stage back to their dressing rooms.
'Lets pack this set away guys si vous plait,' Miss Beatrice called to the stage-hands above the din of the departing audience behind the curtain, 'we got another show to give in London tomorrow.' Suddenly, dozens of stage-hands swooped upon the stage and began packing away the set and props, as I watched on with a sad feeling.
'Run along now son,' said one of the male workers kindly after a few minutes of me standing motionless, 'get yourself home.' I complied reluctantly, as I felt the usual empty, deflated feeling I always felt after a performance. My mind began to wander as I aimlessly walked along the corridors. I felt terribly hot, so I peeled away my sweaty leotard so that my torso could breathe. With my mind full of many thoughts, I wandered into my dressing room and slumped down onto the chair.
I suppose I best tell you all about me. I was 20 years old and I had been dancing since before I can remember. I did all sorts of dancing, I didn't care what style it was, I loved it all. Mum used to say I danced before I could walk and talk! My Mum was amazing, she supported my dancing the best she could, always working double shifts to pay for the lessons and coming to watch my every show. That was until the accident. When I was ten years old, Mum and Dad were driving home from work together when a drunk, teen joyrider crashed into their car. Dad lived, Mum did not. Since then, I had lived alone with Dad in what I can only describe as a fractious relationship. Dad was a businessman, who mainly concerned himself with his busy work life which consisted of selling car-parts. He never really supported my dancing, I suppose he thought it was for girls and pufters. He'd pay half of my school fees for the academy, I guess as a tribute to Mum, while the other half I had to earn through a scholarship policy. I loved my Dad of course, but we were just two different people and in the rare moments we were together, we maintained a cordial relationship.
The academy had been fantastic to me and is where I called home. It was a boarding school, and only accepted the best dancers from around the world between the ages of eleven and twenty-one. Joining when I was twelve, I quickly rose through the ranks and by the time I was sixteen I was the principal dancer their, meaning I got all the best parts in shows. I was somewhat of a prodigy, talented at all forms of dance I did, though ballet was the style most worked on at the academy. I was tipped to have a great future in the dance world and after just turning twenty, I only had another year left their before I got to audition for the top dance company in the country, the Royal Elite Dance Company.
I felt my body begin to cool down as the fine beads of sweat that covered it finally could escape from my torso. Lost in my thoughts, I leant in towards the dust speckled mirror as I looked closely at myself. There was no hiding the fact that I had been blessed in the looks department. I was six foot three inches, and around twelve stones in weight. The years of heavy dance and gym training, as well as correct dieting had helped me achieve a fantastic body. I was perfectly in trim, with well toned pecs and arms and a rippling six pack, which were enhanced by two strong V lines along my hips which ran down to my groin. My ass was tight and firm, but still maintained a curvy look and my legs though slender, were packed with bundles of muscle, especially around the thighs. I possessed large, striking blue eyes which people said the audience fell in love with as soon as they looked into them. I had a long, straight nose and small, pink lips. My teeth were gleaming white and straight and I had one of them contagious smiles that people could not help but smile back at. My hair was blonde in colour, which I kept short on the sides but thick, and messily sprawled across the top of my head and fringe in a arty kind of way. However, for more formal occasions I would pull it back away from my face, which would give me a more mature look.
I was luckier then most men however. As a teenager, I always had a normal looking cock which I didn't really pay much attention to when I went through puberty. However, when I was seventeen, it suddenly kept growing and growing until it finally reached a huge eight inches when erect, five inches when soft. It was very pale in colour and smooth with very few veins running along the shaft. I guess its thickness was about normal, but I didn't care much as I was thankful for its great length. Under my tight foreskin, lay the head of my cock, which was long, thin and had a pale pinky colour. Not only that, but also my balls grew to a large size as well. I was pleased to find that though they were large, they did not droop like an old man's and remained firmly hung just below my cock. To enhance my dick's length, I kept my pubic hair well trimmed, often down to mere bristles which I thought looked better then having a mass of tangles.
Though of course I was thrilled at possessing such a fine dick, I'd often get embarrassed and self-conscious about it. Many times, I'd see the girls in class staring or giggling behind their hands at my groin. Unfortunately, due to the clothing we had to wear, usually tights and a leotard, nothing was left to the imagination. The giggles would be even worse if I ever got an involuntary erection.
You'd think with my dancing ability and good looks I'd have the girls chasing me left, right and centre and you wouldn't be wrong. However, I rarely dated anyone due to my shy personality.
The death of my mother impacted on my life greatly. My once cheeky personality disappeared over-night and I became a quiet, shy and under confident person, which was not helped by my uncaring father. I was however an obsessive perfectionist when it came to dance, and would often spend hours alone in the studio trying to perfect a step. My feelings of self-doubt were not helped by my sexuality, which I guess you would label as a reluctant bi-sexual. I hated the fact I had feelings for men and tried to suppress them for years but had in the last six months come to accept them a little more. I still favoured women and always tried to surround myself with them in my social life to try and curb the urges I had for men. Though I knew I was appealing to girls and had had sex a few times, I wouldn't say I was an overly sexual person, and still often found myself shy and had a habit of mumbling my words around girls.
The sound of approaching footsteps and chattering voices disturbed my thoughts as I became fully aware of my surroundings. Upon the desk I was sat were numerous good-luck cards and luscious, scented flowers the dancers sent to each other before the start of each show. However, these did not belong to me. Confusedly I looked around the room and saw the clothes rail filled with many dresses and female attire. As the voices approaching the room became louder and clearer, I read the sheet, roughly blue-tacked to the wall with the number and occupants of each dressing room.
'Dressing Room 21 – Becky's and Olivia's
This was not my dressing room. Suddenly, the voices appeared outside the door, as the handle began to slowly rotate.
'Bollocks!' I thought, not wanting to be caught half-naked in a girl's changing room. I quickly looked around and saw a cupboard where the spare costumes were kept. Quick as a flash, I effortlessly leapt out of the chair and into the cupboard, managing to close the door as two girls entered into the room. I kept the door slightly ajar, so that I would know when it was safe to leave as the two girls sat on chairs in front of the mirror. I instantly recognised them as the girls I had opened the door for earlier, Rebecca and her friend who I assumed to be Olivia. I felt myself begin to sweat nervously as I involuntarily held my breath so as to not give away my hiding place. Through the narrow crack of the door, I found my eyes become fixated on Rebecca. She was an extremely pretty girl from my class that I had never quite had the confidence to speak to at length. She was of average height for a girl and possessed an excellent, slender body and wonderful, naturally tanned skin. Her straight hair was a mousey brown colour, and flowed down either side of a centre parting to about chest level. Her small, but elongated brown eyes, which pointed upwards at the corners were accentuated by long, dark eye-lashes. Her eyebrows were long and thin and her nose was small and cute, with THE END