The show was another success and the entire company received a standing ovation from the audience. Everyone was in the backstage, laughing and congratulating each other on another well-done performance. They had all forgotten all about the mysterious guest in their excitement.

Their director walked in and everyone quieted down to hear what he had to say.

“When the audience have all filed out, our special guest has asked that you retake to the stage in order of appearance. Line up beside each other, with about three feet in between each person. You will then follow instructions as they are given. Don’t change out of your stage clothes. Understood?”

“YES DIRECTOR!”

“Oh…and great job today company. You’ve done the production proud.”

“Thank-you Director!”

“The audiences are almost all gone, get ready to retake the stage!”

And with that their director left them to stew in their curiosity. Almost immediately after the director’s sturdy footsteps had faded, the company erupted into absurd and fantastical theories. But Tiffany kept to herself and kept shut. Despite being the youngest of the company, Tiffany often felt she was the most mature. The girl sighed and sipped her water.

Ten minutes later, they were back on stage. Only the lights on the stage were lit, everything else was pitch black. Someone had marked out a large rectangular area on the stage in white masking tape, and the dancers were told to stand within the lines, three feet apart. There was much shuffling and playful shoving before everyone settled down. Tiffany found herself lined up somewhere in the middle. They stood there while their director stood on the side. Nothing seemed to be happening and the dancers soon started to fidget and grumble their discontent at being kept late for such absurdity.

Then there came the sound of delicate footsteps from the other side of the stage. The footsteps stopped just short of entering the lit platform, but everyone could make out a hazy shadow in the yawning darkness. The mysterious figure stood there, still as a rock for what seemed like eternity before taking one last step into the lit area.

The company had expected an old ert, or perhaps a rich business man, or maybe some pompous big-shot in the ballet world, they had even entertained the thought of some rich prince from a distant land who wanted to buy their company or turn all the girls into concubines and the guys into slaves. Every fantastical thought was discussed, everything but the reality that stood before them.

…

…

…

She.

It was a she.

That was the first surprise. Because as imaginative as they all were, for some reason, no one had thought it was going to be a woman.

A young Asian woman. Perhaps a little older than Tiffany herself.

She had a slight, delicate figure, pale porcelain-perfect skin, astute distinct bridge of the nose, defined cheekbones, thin pink lips that were even now shyly bitten between pearl white teeth, sharp defined jaw line, long silky blonde hair and a beautiful slender neck and shoulders, exposed by the low-cut of her blouse. She was dressed all in black. Black skinny jeans with an elegant silver vine-like pattern up one side, showcasing slender shapely legs. Black flowy sheer blouse that contrasted and showed off the pale beauty of her bare arms. A black inch-wide silk ribbon hung from her neck, but what it held was hidden in the depths of her blouse. She held a professional looking camera in her hands, the straps wound around one wrist.

Tiffany wanted to say she was quite pretty, but the woman hid the one thing she had most wanted to see.

The woman’s eyes were masked behind almost opaque black shades.

The mysterious stranger continued to stand there for a few more minutes, curiously looked straight ahead of her instead of at the dancers. Then she suddenly walked straight ahead until she was standing right in front of the dancers.

“Hi. My name is Jessica, and I am very extremely grateful to you all for indulging in my whimsical fancies. I loved your performance to