Chapter 249: Dragon's Den
Chapter 249: Dragon's Den
"No! Your acting is terrible! You're like a bunch of puppets dangling from strings!"
In the backstage area of the Central Cross Theater, a middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a crisp, double-breasted white suit, not a wrinkle in sight, had just finished watching the final rehearsal before the performance. He couldn't help but fling his top hat to the ground, pointing at a group of actors and shouting in anger.
"Emotions! Where are your emotions?
You are living, breathing people, not machines reciting my lines! If you want the audience to be captivated by your performance, you must first immerse yourselves in it!
Don't fuss over your steps, your entrances, your gestures, your lighting, or your positioning. The theater doesn't fear your mistakes, nor does it demand perfection. What it truly seeks is a performance that allows the audience to empathize with you!"
"Performances with flawless steps and machine-like precision lack soul! A smoothly delivered monologue, with every note of the aria perfectly executed, may not be as impactful as a single heartfelt cry!
You're all... damn it! The only decent one, Andre, is being boycotted and can't perform. What are you all doing? You're ruining my script! Bunch of idiots! I'd rather string you up and control you with a wire myself!"
The middle-aged man seemed to hold a very high position within the theater troupe. Despite being berated for a full ten minutes, not one of the dozens of renowned, experienced actors who had toured half the world dared to retort. Even a timid female actor began to tremble and weep softly.
Hearing the actress's sobs, the middle-aged man seemed to realize he had gone too far. After a moment of silence, he stopped yelling and instead directed the actors to rehearse the first act of 'The Twelve-Day Tour' once more.
Unfortunately, despite the actors' best efforts, their well-honed skills couldn't meet the middle-aged man's minimum requirements.
As he witnessed yet another unsatisfactory rehearsal, not a single actor meeting his expectations, the middle-aged man's barely suppressed anger erupted.
"Useless! Useless! Useless!!!"
The middle-aged man ranted hysterically, crumpling the hat in his hand and throwing it to the ground. He stomped on it with all his full force, repeatedly, mangling the expensive hat.
After a while, having vented his disappointment and anger, the middle-aged man, though tempted to start over, glanced at his wristwatch and realized it was showtime. He sighed in disappointment and extended his hand towards the unworthy actors.
"I guess I'll have to do it myself!"
With a sigh of regret, the lights above the stage suddenly illuminated, revealing the cluttered backstage filled with props and sets. One by one, the slightly trembling puppets stood up, guided by the middle-aged man's hand movements.
Agatha, the female lead of 'The Twelve-Day Tour', wearing a waitress uniform, had a string of peculiar tears, formed from wood, rolling down her cheeks and pattering onto the backstage floor.
...
Princess Veronica, holding Lyon's hand, hurried into the reserved love box. She lifted her skirt, clamping it between her legs, and then, without a hint of ladylike grace, bent down to adjust the chairs for herself and Lyon, quickly finding the best angle for watching the play.
"Come on!"
Veronica excitedly patted the empty seat next to her.
"Hurry up and sit! We saw the usher preparing to go on stage when we came up. The first scene of the first act of 'The Twelve-Day Tour' is about to start. You'll miss it if you don't sit down now!"
"..."
Sitting down wasn't the problem... but are you sure this chair is for two people?
Looking at the princess who had taken up more than half of the double-seater, Lyon couldn't help but speak up.
"Are these box office chairs... a little too narrow?"
After all, how could it be called a 'Love Box' otherwise?
Hearing Lyon's question, the princess, who had been eagerly looking towards the stage, couldn't help but reveal a cunning, shallow smile.
The Central Cross Theater wasn't short on funds, so the narrowness of the chairs was intentional. With the width of the 'Love Box' seats, even two slender ladies sitting together wouldn't have much space, and when a man and a woman sat together, they would inevitably be squeezed together by the armrests on both sides.
For a play that averaged just over three hours, it was impossible for most people to endure sitting with their legs together and maintaining a proper posture throughout. They would inevitably try different positions, like one person sitting on the chair while the other sat directly on their lap.
"It's not narrow; it's just right for two people!"
Although he understood what was going on, the princess, who had ulterior motives, naturally wouldn't be foolish enough to explain it to Lyon.
After making an effort to move to the side and making enough space for Lyon to sit, Princess Veronica pursed her lips and urged him repeatedly.
"Sit down quickly, the curtain has already opened, and the opening instruments are playing!"
"Alright..."
Although he still felt it was a bit narrow, Lyon saw that the curtain on the stage had indeed been raised, so he stopped talking and sat in the half-space the princess had made for him.
When he sat down, the princess, who had been holding herself back, relaxed slightly. Her soft, plump body leaned towards him, and even through the layers of clothing, she conveyed a subtle warmth and impressive elasticity.
"..."
So that's how it was...
After realizing the reason for the narrow chairs, Lyon subconsciously pulled his body back, but the princess beside him shamelessly took advantage and leaned over.
Her fingertips, cold from the chill, precisely found Lyon's right hand, and without any regard for manners, slipped through his fingers, intertwining with his in a clasp that carried a slight chill.
I knew this trip would be a dragon's den!
"It seems... still a bit cramped..."
As his arm was pulled to the right, Lyon's elbow brushed against a soft, fleshy mass, causing his mouth to twitch slightly. He couldn't help but whisper,
"I could also stand and watch..."
"Shh!"
The princess, feeling triumphant, silenced him with a finger to her lips and a stern expression.
"You should remain quiet while watching a play. But if you really must speak, you can put your arm around my back and lean in to whisper in my ear."
"..."
In that case, I'll just sit...
Having no choice but to deal with her antics, Lyon abandoned his plan to stand and watch. He sat stiffly in the chair.
On stage, the maritime-themed play, filled with the atmosphere of a harbor, was reaching its finale. A 'narrator' actor, ringing a shell bell, recited loudly amidst the sounds of the ocean, simulated by a sea organ and wave drum.
"Ankara, for this serene harbor town, what it lacks least are tides and sea breezes, and the yearning of young souls to find solace in the beautiful, vast waves..."
As the narrator spoke clearly, a male puppet, dressed in white and with a robust physique, emerged from behind a wooden prop house. He sighed with a troubled expression.
"There are still twelve days... After twelve days, I will no longer be a free man, but a caged bird in a strange prison..."
Wait, something seems off here?
Watching the male lead 'Elijah' lament on stage, Lyon raised his hand in disbelief and rubbed his eyes.
Am I watching a play or a puppet show? Why is the male lead on stage a talking marionette?
(End of Chapter)
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