Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(141)

“I’m ready,” I say strongly.

And we go.

I’m dancing to my mom’s music. I am breathing in every lively cord that thrums through my veins. We are heaven and peace on this stage, and balls take flight in symmetry. Kotovas scale poles around me, their vivacious energy and chemistry at a peak.

I twirl and juggle, nearing the apparatus, and I’m lifted onto the trampoline by an angel named Luka—and we bounce.

We fly.

There are no words to describe the feeling of being alive.

After all our work, I can stand on his shoulders. He rotates me, eight gold balls taking flight. I catch them to applause, and Luka squeezes my ankles, proud of me.

I’m so proud of us.

At the end of the act, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head, and we watch the show together.

We’re quiet. Holding onto one another. Listening. Feeling.

He’s out of my arms for Russian swing, the final act, and the joyous chorus of the finale’s score alleviates all tension. All discord. Kotovas move in celebration of what they do and who they are, and I feel the same.

Proud to be a part of this heart-rendering world.

Proud to be a Wright.

Proud to be my mom’s daughter.

Tears wet my cheeks, and I don’t worry about the makeup. I’m smiling, and just as the curtains fall to the close, someone shouts, “Last curtain call for Infini.”

Last curtain call for Infini.

This is the final goodbye.

I walk on the bright stage with the rest of the cast, and I engrain everything in my mind: the velvet curtains, all the spotlights, the floor beneath my feet, the chatter and the quick side-hugs before the curtain slowly rises to a standing ovation.

A warm arm is around my shoulders. “Luka,” I breathe.

He smiles and wipes some of my tears. “This is only the start, Bay.”

I nod over and over. Life continues after tonight, and I’m clinging to more than Luka. I have hope.

The contortionists rush forward first, with a bow and a wave. They step back, and I push Luka, his turn is up. He’s already grinning, jumping far ahead, and his arms hook around cousins. Who hook their arms around him. Together, in unison.

The audience roars, clapping harder and louder. I can’t stop smiling.

The Kotovas stand statuesque, teeming with charisma and pride, and I clap and clap. I cheer for Brenden and Zhen as they take the spotlight.

It’s my turn.

Artists let me through, and I come forward, passing the Russian swing apparatus. I juggle three balls and twirl before I bow.

I hear Luka’s loud whistle, and I grin inside-out.

Just when I think it’s the end, most of the cast shuffles back—but they push four of us to the front. To the spotlight.

Luka lightly pushes my arm, his lips stretched wide. “Go, Bay.”

I’m about to shake my head, but Brenden clasps my hand, and Dimitri suddenly takes my other. Zhen grabs Brenden’s—and I realize why we’re being honored.

We’re the only ones who stayed with Infini from beginning to end.

The original four.

So we walk forward together. Hand-in-hand. And before the curtain falls, I see the admiration and respect from my peers as they clap all around me, and I see the audience overflowing with emotion that we built.

I can’t think of a happier goodbye than this one.



*



“I have something bizarre to tell you,” I say to Luka, after we sneak into the Masquerade’s biggest globe auditorium. We finished performing Infini about four or five hours ago, showered and changed in comfier clothes.

We sit on the midnight-blue velveteen seats. In the very middle row of the middle section. It’s empty and peaceful, and the stage curtains are still drawn open. The last set piece, a painted soft blue sky floating into star-speckled space, still hangs as the background, omnipotent and breathtaking.

Luka dumps three types of candy into a bag of popcorn, already smiling.

“You’re not nervous?” I give him a serious look.

“No,” he says with a laugh. “I like bizarre things as much as you do.”

I bring my right foot to the seat, angling my body slightly towards him. “What’s bizarre,” I say, “is that when I sit here, in an empty auditorium with no one around but you”—I make a grand sweeping motion at our scenery—“it’s not quiet to me, and it’s not because I’m talking.”

Luka listens and watches intently, his smile not mocking at all.

I lean forward, my hand on his armrest. “It’s like…” I put a hand on my chest like the words are in me but I can’t articulate. “I hear music. It’s hushed, but there’s this sound that can’t be contained—and God, I am in…”

“Love,” he finishes, his gray eyes encapsulating what I feel.

I nod, tears welling. I laugh into a smile. “Love is bizarre.”

His arm slides on top of mine. “You want to hear something bizarre?” He tosses a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“What?”

“I figured that out way before you.”

My smile matches his. “Not bizarre at all,” I say as his fingers lace mine. “I can believe that easily.”

Luka reaches down and finds my Infini souvenir tote bag. After the final performance, there was a wrap party, and we were all given mementos to remember the show. We have time to kill before we learn where our futures are headed.