#figured we should get some backstory on the doctor of Mirage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myselfinserts · 4 years

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“I’m done can we just not.”

Étienne sat near the back of the dining room at the bar, his seat turned toward the stage, a bouquet of roses resting on the counter. He truly didn’t want to be part of the speakeasy scene. Too many risks. One could get sick, or injured, or worse, blackout drunk. But it was where he’d find Marianne Gladstone, and if he was going to get her brother signed on as their stage hand and a fellow dancer, he’d have to convince her to come with to Mirage.

If it weren’t for one little detail, he’d have considered snagging any of the Gladstone family a lost cause.

"I'd love to join the troupe, but I don't think I can without my older sister's blessing. She's very protective of me and Tanith."

"That's disappointing."

"Wait, maybe you can convince her to join too! She's a fantastic dancer. I learned everything from her."

"I'm only looking for one new member right now. Does your sister have any other skills that'll change my mind?"

"Well, she's a good singer. And a very skilled doctor. She's a decent cook and-"

"Wait. A doctor?"

"Yeah. Like, medicine and surgeries and stuff."

If she’s a doctor, why isn’t she working in a hospital? And why work part time at a place like this?

The lights in the bar dimmed, a spotlight aiming itself at the stage, hitting the curtain in such a way that it showed the outline of a woman. Slowly, teasingly, a leg poked out from the red velvet, the music starting to swell to its beginning. As the curtains pulled away, the full body was revealed. A woman with incredibly dark hair, perfectly styled and curled to cover one of her listless, violet eyes. The dress she wore was a dark, beautiful navy velvet, form fitting, strapless with a sweetheart neckline. A long slit going up the skirt until it hit just around her hip. Her shoes, gloves, and choker were black.

"Oh my God, look at that face You look like my next mistake Love's a game, wanna play?"

He had to say, ‘good’ was probably an understatement to describe this voice. Though Étienne didn’t plan on admitting it anytime soon. Instead, he focused on her movements. As she left the stage to interact with a mostly apathetic crowd, he noticed how delicate her movements were. The way her feet would tap the ground as she stepped around tables. The way her legs bent and curled when she knelt down beside one of the few people who were paying attention. The precise placement of her hands.

“She’s classically trained,” he muttered.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Étienne looked at the man couple of seats away. His emerald stare was laser focused on the singer, full of adoration and care. “She has some talent,” Étienne said. “I suppose I can give her that much.”

The man smiled softly. “She’s not just a great singer, but her dancing is up there with the best. And she’s a doctor to boot. Smart, beautiful, talented. The whole package.”

“That’s something I don’t understand.” He looked back to Marianne, who was making her way back to the stage. “What’s a doctor doing working in a rundown speakeasy like this instead of a clinic?”

“No idea,” the man shrugged. “There’s been some rumors she prefers to work as a private physician.”

The bartender set down the drink he was preparing, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and other rumors that are less flattering and far more accurate.” He looked over at Marianne, a sickly smirk on his face. “Been thinking of confirming them for myself for a while.”

The man shot him a glare. “Don’t even think about it, you disgusting pig.”

“I’m a pig, huh? Who was it who’s been comin’ to my establishment the last three weeks just to watch her?”

“Unlike some people, I actually want to get to know her.”

Ah, so that’s what it is. Étienne grabbed his drink and the roses and left the bar, heading to one of the tables up near the front of the stage, leaving the two to bicker to themselves. Up closer, he got a better look at her physique. She was far from small. Her arms were strong from years of dancing. Her legs were long, sturdy, and well toned. And he’d only seen hands that steady on one other person.

If she’s as good a doctor as she is a performer, we might have hit the jackpot.

After a few more songs, the performance came to a close. Very few people gave her applause. Étienne stepped forward and presented her the flowers, managing to whisper to her that he’d like to have a private word. She seemed skeptical, but said for him to come backstage to the dressing room in ten minutes.

It almost seemed too easy.

When Étienne made it to the dressing room, he quietly knocked on the door, waiting patiently as he thought over the proposition.

There was silence.

He knocked again.

“Come in.”

With a soft breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The flowers immediately hit the wall inches from his face.

“Not to your liking?” he asked nonchalantly.

Marianne glared at him, her hair completely soaked from a shower, dripping onto her navy blue bathrobe. “If this is some stupid little prank by Sinclair to get me to take him back, I swear to god-”

“I don’t know who this Sinclair person is, but he sounds rather despicable if he feels the need to send someone in his place to give you flowers.”

“Not Sinclair?” She threw up her hands, her voice raising. “Mary, I am going to fucking kill you if this is another one of your blind dates-”

Étienne couldn’t repress a scowl. “Don’t assume I’m in any way associated with McMiller. That half-bit excuse for a primadonna and I being in any way on speaking terms is an idea that makes me ill.”

“Then who sent you? Huh?” She paused, taking a closer look at him. “Wait a minute...Oh fucking hell.” She shook her head, heading over and landing on the couch with a hard fwump. “You’re that Allard guy my brother keeps talking about.”

“Took you long enough to notice.”

“Just shut up,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. “I’m done. Can we just not? I have enough on my plate as it is and I don’t have the energy to deal with whatever it is you’re after.”

Étienne’s expression softened. “A pity. Because it’s you I’m after.”

Marianne scoffed. “Yeah. Right. You and every other skuzzball this side of town. I know the rumors about me. And unlike what they say, I actually have standards.”

“Those standards could be better.” He knelt beside her, leaning in close. “Wouldn’t you prefer an audience that’d actually appreciate your skills? Coworkers who don’t leer at you for their own desires?” His fingers lightly danced over the soft fabric of her sleeves. “Perhaps a wardrobe with better colors?”

“You’re really dense,” she sighed. “I look best in blues.”

“Nonsense,” Étienne said. “You seem miserable in blue. Perhaps a brighter color would be better. Like...” He glanced at the ruined roses. “You would fantastic in red.”

“Okay, now I know you’re messing with me.”

“I’m not.” He lightly ran his hair through her fingers, untangling a few of the strands. “Red pairs so well with dark hair. It’d really make your eyes stand out.” His hands trailed along her shoulders, moving to roll up her sleeves. “These arms, strong and precise. A lovely crimson would show the world the power hidden in these arms.”

“...Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not mentioning along with the flattery?”

Almost got her. “Most troupes have an on site physician these days. And whatever you make now as a doctor, I can promise, we’ll pay far better.”

Marianne pondered this for a moment. “I make an average of 150k being a private doctor for my current troupe. Decent enough.”

“We can double that easily.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a red velvet box about seven inches long. “And if you perform with us, you’ll often find perks in the form of...an appreciative audience.”

Hesitantly, Marianne took the box from him and opened it. Inside was a bracelet with vibrant red gemstones embedded into silver. Her eyes widened in awe. Étienne took the opportunity to put it on her, his voice low and inviting.

“Aren’t you tired of being underappreciated?” he asked. “Of being shoved out of the limelight and pushed into the dark? Don’t you want to be someplace where you’ll be respected? Where you’re admired? No longer in the shadow of someone who doesn’t see your skill, but standing tall with those that see you as their equal?”

Marianne practically went limp. “...Perhaps we should continue this discussion over a drink back at my place. After I get dressed.”

Étienne smirked. “As you wish.”

#myselfinserts #mybnhaocs #friends ocs #class of aus: Ballet AU #figured we should get some backstory on the doctor of Mirage #after this the next stop in ballet is a maddox curbstomp #Anonymous

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