‘It was the evening on which MM Debienne and Poligny, the managers of the Opera, were giving a last gala performance to mark their retirement. Suddenly, the dressing room of La Sorelli, one of the principal dancers, was invaded by half-a-dozen young ladies of the ballet, who had come off from the-‘
“AER!” A loud voice cut through the flat, jarring the brown-haired young woman from her literary trance. Aeria sighed and picked up her bookmark, placing it carefully between the pages and shutting the novel, not bothering to move from her spot lounging on the sofa as the hurried thumping of her roommate’s feet grew ever closer.
Wossy rounded the last corner into the living room, panting from the sprint and hastily hiding something behind her back.
“Whatch’ya doooin?” The long haired girl brushed her electric-blue bangs out of her face with one hand.
“Trying to read,” Aeria responded curtly, unphased by the energetic outburst of her