Blank Canvas

Chapter Thirty: Light-Saber Idiot Strings

AN: Anyone who read my fanfic for I've-seen-the-fairies knows that she's my favourite FP author. So you won't really be surprised when I say that the chappy title comes from her profile.

Having said that, music for this chappy is "The Chairman's Waltz" from the Memoirs Of A Geisha soundtrack. It's the first soundtrack of bought since Grease.

We return to first-person POV in this chappy. And now, on with the final act of the show…


(Nicole's POV)

"You're gonna get yourself killed," a calm voice said and I looked up in surprise to see a girl standing beside me on the catwalk of the bridge. She was wearing a jacket that looked like a cross between a kimono and a hoodie. It was red cotton, with kimono sleeves, but it had a zipper down the front, a pouch pocket, and a hood. It was nice, especially in the way it hung off of her. You know how you see something that you know is artistic, but you can't quite place how? That's how this was.

She was also wearing a pair of jeans and no shoes. It was strange, because the metal used on the catwalk was difficult on my feet even through the flimsy soles of my cons. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face in a messy bun, a few stray strands blowing about her with the wind.

"What?" I asked, taken aback. I had thought that I was alone.

"I said, you're gonna get yourself killed, fooling around up here."

"Um," I said, still surprised. "I'm just sitting here, writing. You're the one up here with no traction, standing at the edge." She girl shrugged, climbing up onto the rail of the catwalk.

"I'm not like you, though," she said.

"You'd better get down from there," I said worriedly. She had better not like, kill herself or something while I'm here!

"Or what? Afraid I'll get hurt?" she asked in a taunting voice. She smirked and walked down the railing, her arms out slightly for balance, raised up on tiptoe. "Didn't I just tell you that I'm not like you, though?"

She placed one foot out in front of the other and then, before I could even process anything, flipped to stand on her hands. She was doing a front split, upside down, on the narrow railing of a bridge catwalk.

She brought her feet together so that she was standing on her hands with her feet directly above her head, balanced on one hand, and kind of… hopped, propelling her back into the air where she flipped to stand upright again on the rail. I gaped at her. What was this girl?

"Triela, you aren't pestering her, are you?" another voice asked. She spun to glare at the person and jumped down from the rail.

"I was just warning her to stay away from the side," she said.

"By showing off?"

The man who had spoken was blonde, like her, but he was wearing a black leotard, red tights, black ballet flat-type shoes, and red gloves. He seemed to glitter all over and his lips were painted bright red, while his face was matte white and his eyes were outlined in black.

Who was this freak?"

"Shut up, Alphonse. You're the one running around dressing like that."

"I'm dressed like this because we're supposed to be at rehearsal. But you went and disappeared so now the acrobats are on the bridge." The boy finally turned his attention to me. "Forgive my sister. Triela likes to show off at all the wrong times. She's a tightrope walker and an acrobat with the DeMorte Circus Troupe. She's also my partner and I can't practice without her so if you'll excuse us…"

Alphonse trailed off, grabbing Triela's hand and pulling her to the exit of the catwalk.

"Wait!" Triela shouted, turning to face me. "Hey, do you wanna come watch rehearsal?"

I stared at her. It seemed like it would be interesting. I had never been to a circus before. And if they liked me maybe they would teach me how to do handstands and stuff. Without the catwalk, naturally. But I had finals the next morning and…

"Triela, she doesn't want to come. Besides, you know Dad would—"

"Shut up, Alphonse! So how about it?" she smiled at me. "I'll even teach you to do some of this. I can tell you want to learn."

I nodded, standing up and tucking my notebook into my bag before standing to hurry after them.

We walked a bit down the street until we came to a large building. As we walked inside Triela looked at me and said, "What's the matter? You look disappointed."

"I kind of expected a tent…" I said, blushing. I probably offended them so badly.

"Ha, yeah, we have one of those for shows, but this structure is more reliable for rehearsals when we're in our hometown. Now come on, I've got to get into costume. We could probably find you something, too. You look about the same size as my cousin. How old are you anyway?"

"Sixteen," I said as we walked into a room full of racks holding up colourful outfits and shoes and makeup cases and all sorts of things.

"Really? You look younger than that. Probably cause you're so little. But I'm actually nineteen, and no one believes that."

"I would have guessed fifteen," I admitted.

"Cause I'm so little. Anyway, here," she said, holding out an outfit and a pair of shoes. "Go into one of the changing rooms and try this on."

I nodded, walking nervously into one of the closet-sized cubby-rooms on the far wall. With the exception of Gerard, I'd always had really good intuition about people, and if I got any bad vibes about a person I stayed as far away from them as possible. But the only negative signal I got was Alphonse's attitude towards Triela. Besides, I had my cell phone and there was not a single place in North Carolina that I didn't get service.

The outfit fit well. It was a royal blue sleeveless unitard with a silver diagonal band from the left hip to the right shoulder. The soft shoes were silver, as were the elbow-high arm warmers. When I came out Triela handed me a blue hair tie.

"You should wear this. You don't want your hair all in your face."

"Thanks," I said nervously. "I like your outfit, by the way."

"Thank you," she said. She was wearing white tights, pink flats, a pink leotard with gold sequins along the neck, sleeves, and the thighs, a gold butterfly on the hip, and white gloves. "We've got to go see Anghel for makeup. He probably won't do yours cause it takes so long but since I'm actually a performer they'll need to do mine."

"When is your actual show?" I asked as we walked through a door to a room lined with mirrors and makeup tables.

"Next Tuesday. We'll have rehearsal every night until then. Anghel!" she called out and a man walked over to us. He was obviously gay, but I couldn't really place my finger on why. He was dressed just like Alphonse, but his costume was black-and-blue instead of black-and-red, and he wore a black silk top hat. "I'd like you to meet my friend… What is your name?" she asked me.

"Nicole Fresk."

"Yes, Triela, I can tell you two are tight. Sit down," Anghel said.

"Well, okay, I just met her out on the bridge but—"

"Were you pestering the people again?"

"No. I do not pester people. Anyway, she's come to watch, and I was thinking maybe you could convince Sebastian to teach her some stuff?" Triela asked, her eyes closed as Anghel applied white matte to her eye area, making sure to coat every inch of skin.

"I might be able to convince him," Anghel said with a wink at me. Why did he wink at me? I must have looked confused because he laughed. "Sebastian is my lover, sweetie," he said.

"Oh, I see."

"That doesn't bother you, does it?" He didn't look at me as he painted Triela's lips hot pink.

"No. I have two brothers – we're triplets, you know – and they're both either bi or gay."

"Well that's good," he said. "We don't get along well here with homophobes. Anyway," he added as he applied gold eyeliner to Triela, "when we're done here I'll help you two find him and maybe he'll agree. What're you doing today, Triela?"

"Um, the trapeze routine with Alphonse and the tightrope."

"That would explain why Alphonse was so freaked out when we couldn't find you," Anghel muttered, using a makeup sponge to matte Triela's neck and collar bone. "You want me to do your hair like the show, or just leave it for now?"

"You use so much hairspray I feel like my hair will just break."

"That's the only way it'll stay in place."

"Just leave it for now. Thanks, Anghel!" Triela hopped out of the chair and strode to the door. I made to follow her, but Anghel called out after us.

"You don't want me to do your friend's makeup?" he asked. "I've still got Isobel's makeup out." I gathered that Isobel was Triela's cousin.

"We don't have time, do we?" Triela asked.

"The makeup that goes with that outfit doesn't take long," he said. "Besides, if she wants the full experience she might as well."

"Alright, just be quick," Triela said. I sat down in the chair nervously. This seemed like a bit much but what other chance would I have like this? I touched my cell phone nervously where I had stuck it in the leg of my unitard. It looked stupid, I knew, but I didn't care. They weren't taking me alive!

"Close your eyes, sweetie," Anghel said and as soon as I obeyed I felt the makeup sponge whiting out my face. When that was done I felt him lining my eyes and adding lip gloss. He also sprayed something on my face that felt like hairspray but smelled like kiwi. "Okay, you can look now," he said.

My face was, like all the others, white. My bottom eyelids were silver and the top ones were blue. My lips were done in a similar fashion, the bottom lip was silver and the top was blue. I realized that the hairspray-like stuff must have been body glitter because my face, neck, and shoulders were glittery.

"Wow," I breathed. "I don't look anything like me."

"Isn't it fabulous?" Anghel asked. I gaped at him. "Oh, don't be offended, sweetie. I just meant that it's nice to not be yourself sometimes. That's why so many of us adults would sooner die than leave. It's a nice escape. You can be anything you want to be. Why, I have two twin nieces who are the drama faces today. You'll see them, I'm sure. We're not all acrobats or contortionists here, though. We also have clowns and the animal tamers and everything, but the acrobats are the ones you're most likely to talk to because of Triela."

My phone rang at that moment and I jumped, surprised. I fished it out of the leg of the unitard and answered it.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Nicky, it's ten."

"So?" I asked. I wished sometimes that Levy would spare a word here and there to elaborate.

"Finals tomorrow," he said then I heard a click. I groaned.

"God, I've gotta go," I said. "I've got finals tomorrow and I haven't studied. Um… you said you'd be practicing all week?" I was hopping around, taking off the ballet flats and looking for my own clothes so I could change.

"Yeah, and don't worry about the clothes. We'll take your makeup off really quick then you throw on your jeans and jacket and head home. You can bring the costume back… when your finals end. I guess that would be Friday?" Triela said. I nodded. "Okay, we'll do this Friday instead. Isobel won't need that outfit for quite a while so don't worry. Just go home."

"Thank you," I said once Anghel had taken off my makeup.

"Anytime, sweetie. See you Friday!"


(Chris' POV)

"So today's the last day of school," I said quietly.

"Yeah. How'd you do on finals?" Tommy asked. I shrugged.

"I passed. Listen, I've gotta get home. There's something I've gotta talk to Ayden about."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later then," Tommy said, kissing me softly before I got in the Jeep and headed back to the house.


AN: This story was one hundred and thirty-nine pages long when I finished it. It couldn't have been one hundred and forty::sweatdrop::

I guess it could have been, but since the summer is technically part of next year (cause I go by academic years, not calendar years) I didn't want to ruin aspects of "Muted Song".

Believe it or not, the DeMorte family is going to have a huge impact on Tristan and Nicole's relationship. That's the only reason I wrote that part. Otherwise it would have been just weird. Okay, it was weird anyway. But just know, there is a method to my madness!

Also, in response to Repmet, I'm so glad you commented. Yes, I have some MAJOR rewriting to do on SoG. I intend to do it once these stories are done, that way I only have to do it once! When I revise, I'll probably put revision dates at the beginning of the chappys and a note in whatever chappy I'm on in the most recent story that I have begun. So everyone will know!

The first chappy of MS is up now. Please check it out! And please review this story, even if now is the only time you have. It's had like, nine hundred hits so I know people read but don't review. I would be so grateful to know who's making those numbers go up!

♥'s and X-Rated Thoughts—Luci-chan

Ending Credits (in no particular order... sorry if I forgot anyone, it's hard off the top of my head...)


Ryumaru shogunate


Sakru angelqueen




Duzen Broken And everyone who helped me outside of fictionpress with this story and the others in the story. See you next time!