moderato

marielle huang. 38. mother, choreographer for the royal ballet. [dependent RP blog for London Falling]

[mariellehuang]

thc-magician​:

‘Oh, I am sorry -’ Rune’s answering smile was thin, a little empty. He couldn’t tell if Marielle’s condolences were only because he’d said Achara had never made it to the point of classes, or if she’d managed to glean why, exactly, he was only speaking of her in the past tense. Either way she didn’t ask any more about her, and that suited him just fine. Rune certainly got the impression she’d listen if he did want to say more, but that was exactly why he shied away from doing so. He already felt as if he’d said, exposed, too much.

‘She was utterly lovely,’ he could at least think to himself.

“You know, I don’t know that fantasy worlds were ever really my thing,” Rune mused instead, taking a slow sip from his glass. “I was always a bit more… grounded. Practical.” Boring, Achara might’ve teased. “I’m in the sciences,” he explained, as ever finding it easier to talk about himself. “Not a creative bone in my body, I don’t think. But that’s why I appreciate people like you.” Rune smiled slightly and dipped his head towards Marielle. “I may not understand art very well in a general sense, but the idea that you purposefully create your art for everyone… well, I can certainly appreciate that.”

She offered Rune a smile - one that she hoped was not overly pitying, but rather just to provide comfort and care. Marielle hoped, too, that Rune understood that should he wish to speak more about his sister, that would be something that she’d welcome in whatever way it came about.

“You sound like my brother.” She offered him another smile. “I think I was more into the make believe of it all, from the time I was quite little.” Marielle nodded, “the sciences are wonderful, too - I liked some aspects of biology, but I think my focus was always a bit too much elsewhere while I was at school.” She sighed, “I am of the distinct belief that we need to have people interested in and good at things all across the spectrum, because otherwise everything would be quite frightfully boring.” A pause, “people having passion about any sort of thing has always brought me joy - and I am thankful for your appreciation of the arts.”

[mariellehuang]

samarxkhan​:

“Unfortunately,” he let languish for awhile, a silent breath taken in to sweep it off before it was shortly pushed out, a sardonic reflex of the lungs. “Does it make sense?” His turn to face her, a curious and questioning look for her. “That’s how propaganda spreads.” Misinformation. Bias. Ignorance. Following only the popular opinion silences the opposition, for better or worse. But that didn’t make polite conversation. It rarely did. For someone who had so far shown him nothing but it, his lips pursed, redirecting. “They’re not my type to marry into, no.” As if what he had already stated didn’t show the reason why. Another beat of a pause, brows knitting together as he rewound her words. “Did you say the ballet? Are you a dancer?”

.

“I think that might be a bit cynical, even if it does hold some level of truth to it.” Marielle offered him a raised eyebrow. “Though for all that I can say about Graham Goldstein being overrated, I doubt he’d be the sort to attempt to spread propaganda -” she held up a hand, “though I imagine that to this, you’d say ‘but it’s always the ones you might least expect.” His next comment brought a smile to her lips. “That is something we certainly have in common.” Another nod, “I did say the ballet - and I used to be, though now I work behind the scenes - choreography - though I suppose that doesn’t take away from whether or not I am a dancer, does it? Just changes where the output of my art goes. Do you enjoy the ballet?”

[mariellehuang]

colin-blackwood​:

“Mary,” well he supposed that wasn’t much of a surprise. This place had been one of their most visited over the length of their relationship. It was one of those places that made you feel like you’d traveled abroad, and they’d gone on a couple of dates here. “Inaya’s doing well. Med school’s not precisely treating her kindly but she holds tight,” he paused. “If Ramona reached out to her, that probably would be a good thing. She’s only been talking about her… things lately.” He didn’t understand a damn thing his daughter told him, but that didn’t stop him from asking her to explain the things she learned every time he saw her.

“Lasagne con ragù,” a pause. That was what the menu said at least. Bolognese lasagna would have been the simpler answer, but he knew that she’d know. “She still does that, huh?” Colin used to carefully collect his olives which he never asked to remove from his pizza, and give them to her. Was it an attempt to buy her approval at first? Perhaps? Did he detest the olives ? Absolutely. He didn’t mention that he ran into Graham. The guy was a cunt, and he didn’t like him at all. Still he wondered why he’d been looking for Marielle that night. Seemed a bit easy to be once again interested once his kid was all grown up and mom was now fully available again, but Colin wasn’t surprised. “How have you been doing?”

.

“Still hard to believe that tiny ten year old’s on her way to becoming a doctor,” Marielle offered him a smile, “though I suppose she’s probably not so tiny any more? Somehow Ramona’s managed to stay tiny, and I mean, I’m not a genetics expert, but between myself and her father, I might’ve thought she’d end up a bit taller, but it’s darling, and I am taller than my mother, so...” her voice trailed off. “I’ll tell Ramona she can absolutely reach out - maybe she’ll get Inaya into a movie night or something. It’d be good for Ramona too, she’s quite hyper-focused on her schoolwork.”

“Sounds good,” she offered him a knowing smile. “It’s charming, and given that she’s stopped some of her other childhood habits, I’ll happily take this for as long as it lasts. You remember well how she had me send multiple olives as part of her lunch at school, and it was weirdly difficult to convince her to let me pack her a sweet?”

At his question, Marielle shrugged, “well enough, the ballet is going well, as are my personal ventures into giving any child who wishes access to dance, though there’s still times when I’m the same girl from Sheffield and London’s just a place I could be in my wildest dreams.” She sighed. “How about yourself? I would imagine work is busy, as is to be expected, but I hope you have been finding moments to enjoy yourself too.” 

[mariellehuang]

location: idk some restaurant they’re both getting takeaway from?? with: @colin-blackwood​

“Colin,” his name was met with a half-formed smile, kind, if not consistently inviting. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you - how is Inaya?” She tucked a non-existent loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know Ramona was mentioning her the other day - did you know that sometimes - not often, but sometimes, Ramona still brings up the school trip all those years ago.” She glanced back toward the kitchen. “What did you order tonight? Ramona’s been talking non-stop about craving Italian, so I figured we’d do a pizza and pasta night. She still asks for extra olives on her side of the pizza, which still confuses me, but who am I to crush her dreams, right?”

[mariellehuang]

location: a café  with: @cleo-isabel​

“Pardon me,” Marielle began, approaching the other woman, “I think I might have taken the wrong drink - I ordered a Ceylon tea and I believe they’ve given me a coffee - or rather, they are not to blame but I seem to have mistakenly grabbed a coffee - and I noticed you were right ahead of me with ordering, so I wonder if this might be yours? I would be happy to buy you a new one, seeing as I did try it.”

[mariellehuang]

meaganfinley​:

“Then, let my story be a warning to you if you come across a young man who claims to be some cook–which I can only assume was a threat in its own right by allowing me to know he could pull out a knife at any given moment–and he is somehow engaged to a nurse. Again, it must have been another means to scare me by telling me he has access to chloroform and goodness knows what else to take me hostage.” She sighed out, a hand resting at her collarbone for a moment before she made herself as comfortable as she could in the circumstances. The kindness of the woman beside her had done most of the work, something that was met with appreciation, a polite smile passed over.

“Swan Lake is beautiful,” she pronounced every syllable clearly, an honest truth to them. “Though, the film was…” Meagan’s hand waved to clear the image, a shake of her head before settling back on her. She seemed to positively beam at the compliments, making her lips curve, somewhat out of practice by the looks of it, before they regained themselves in preparation for her answer. “You probably have heard of a journalist by the name of Astrid Joy West?” She looked cultured, unlike most here. “Well, she nearly assaulted me with that terrible train, and then had the audacity to insult what / was wearing. Utterly inexcusable.”

.

Marielle offered the woman a sympathetic smile. “That sounds rather terrifying, and I am sorry that you had to deal with that.” In all likelihood, Marielle figured, whoever the woman had talked to had made a poor sort of joke, but fright was valid, even if there ended up being nothing to properly worry about. “I would perhaps let your team know that you need to be kept watch of, just to be certain? I would imagine perhaps you can put in some sort of warning to someone...” her voice trailed off, “I apologize, I am certainly not an expert in legal matters, I would imagine you know far more about that than I do.” 

“Though I am unequivocally biased, I would agree with you. The music is some of my favorite to any ballet there ever was.” Marielle nodded, “I do know of Astrid, yes.” Marielle raised an eyebrow at the woman’s remark, “that does sound rather inexcusable - though I may perhaps be in the minority that one should try to speak with kindness where possible, and so I am sorry that you had to experience such rudeness, especially from someone who should be bound to tell the truth.” Another small sigh, “though, I am here to say that I can assure you she is not the only journalist who tends to bend the truth to what suits them.” Though no matter how much she sometimes wished she didn’t, Marielle found it easier than she should have to forgive the other journalist on her mind. Though his use of their daughter to gain sympathy did still refuse to sit well with her. “Would you like to talk to me about how you went about choosing this look? I imagine that would be incredibly more pleasant to discuss than the unfortunate run-ins that you have had today.”

[mariellehuang]

thc-magician​:

Rune watched Marielle with a curious smile, trying to decide if she was what he had expected. He hadn’t really expected much of anything, to be honest. Approaching her had largely been on a whim; some sentimental impulse to connect to something that’d been important to his sister. A moment of weakness, maybe, but Rune didn’t allow himself those too often. He could allow himself this one.

She was surprisingly humble — not that Rune was all that good a judge of humility — which made sense for someone working behind the scenes, but not necessarily someone working behind the scenes of the Royal Ballet, of all places. Still, it was refreshing. Marielle spoke about her work with a quiet enthusiasm and without pretense, and Rune couldn’t help but be absently charmed.

The mental image of a young Marielle sleeping in her ballet shoes prompted a laugh, soft but earnest.

“Sounds a bit like my sister. She never got to the point of classes,” — maybe she would’ve, if she’d lived. — “But the couple of times she did see the ballet, her enthusiasm was… palpable.” Rune laughed again, slightly more muted, and shook his head before taking a slow drink. “She would’ve been exceptionally jealous I got to meet you. For that, I feel obligated to say the Nutcracker was always her favorite work.” One of the most basic picks, Rune had always thought, but who was going to tell that to a ten-year-old?

She smiled at his laugh. “Well, I was told that sleeping with things that are important to you is something people do, so...” she trailed off. “I suppose I took that quite literally, but the shoes and my studio always brought a sense of calm to me, so I suppose it worked just as well as sleeping with a stuffed animal or a doll of some sort.”

"Oh, I am sorry -” Marielle offered him a look of sympathy - one that she hoped also conveyed that if he wished, he was welcome to share anything that he wanted to. “Your sister sounds utterly lovely, so I am happy to share any sort of quality with her, no matter how small.” This much was entirely true - Marielle rarely saw fit a reason to lie - and truthful kindness did come naturally to her - or so she liked to believe - and the stories that the man in front of her had told about his sister were ones that filled her with warmth. “My brother has never been as into dance as I am, so to hear of a sibling who so encouraged his sister brings me such joy.”

She took a small sip of her drink. “Well, thank you - I cannot say I am quite so used to people being jealous of others meeting me - I do believe that the art I create is for everyone, I have just been blessed with the privilege of being the one to help put it out into the world.” Another bright smile. “I quite enjoyed that myself - there is something magical about the world created in it, is there not?”

[mariellehuang]

samarxkhan​:

“That sounds cynical,” he noted. Realistic, but cynical. Wasn’t he becoming the expert in the art? “I promise you that the last thing I had on my mind when watching Russia take a turn is how beautiful Graham Goldstein is.” He walked beside her, dodging the chance to rub shoulders with Armani and Gucci, every step closer to getting to the bar where at least everyone had a seat to stay at. “We all start as strangers,” he went on, vague mirroring of the smile he was given before it slipped down out of habit. “What brings you here, by the way? Are you part of the Liddell dynasty?”

.

“You might be in the minority.” Marielle raised an eyebrow and offered him a small smile. “At least, according to other news sources and such.” She sighed, for a moment. “I also want to be clear that I would not judge you, were you to think about that - but I suppose going with the most popular voice for news also does make sense...” she trailed off as they walked toward the bar. “That is true, we certainly do all start that way.” She shrugged, “one of my more frequent patrons at the ballet told me I should check it out. I am not part of any sort of dynasty, no. How about yourself? Do you belong to this dynasty?”

[mariellehuang]

grahamgoldstein​:

“Is she in need of a job?” Graham queried abruptly, his intention far more innocent than the question might have suggested, while his own fidgeting hand hovered uncertainly in the space between them. Continuing on, he clarified, “There’s loads of interns roughly about her age, yes. A few researchers, as well, like one of the ones recently assigned to my team. She actually sent me the most outrageous TikTok the other day, something called a ‘fancam’…?” His head shook with a breathy chuckle, the lines around his eyes crinkling in what was, nowadays, evidence of a rather rare smile, wide and bright even despite his utter ineptitude with the technology of the younger generation. 

“Sometimes, it’s all a bit much for my head. Makes me nostalgic for the nineties, honestly — which is probably why I grin like an idiot anytime I see that you still write your smiley faces out,” he admitted softly, gently nudging her with his elbow. “Although… I have noticed a curious pattern of decidedly not receiving a smiley anytime the Daily Mail runs a story about me and my…dates.” Graham knew he had no right to judge her over such a thing, and had no reason to believe he came off as anything other than what he’d decisively presented himself as: a man naturally suited to the world of celebrity, a lifelong bachelor, a writer with a history of using both sword and pen. And yet, there was a deeper truth to it that he wanted Marielle to know: “So much of what gets written of me, or spoken about me… It’s all for show, really.”

His eyes, tinged with some mix of apology and explanation, lingered on hers for perhaps too long a moment, if only for the fact that he knew there was no other soul in the room who could take a single glance and know if he was lying. Privately, perhaps even selfishly, he allowed himself the momentary vulnerability to be seen — not simply viewed or watched, but seen. Known. Understood. Those weren’t often the grounds upon which his inner thoughts and desires were typically founded, but Graham knew that there was no better person, no other person, with whom such vulnerability felt all at once comfortable and thrilling. He supposed that was why he allowed himself a genuine laugh when she revealed the decided lack of depth of those who’d expressed interest in her before.

“Blimey, that’s teenager-level chat. Was I ever that bad?” A knowing chuckle. “No, don’t answer that — I’m certain I was, but… Well, let’s just say it wasn’t the worst way of getting a regular audience member at all of your performances.” In his mind’s eye, he saw freshly-picked wildflowers bunched in a makeshift bouquet and himself, waiting until after everyone else had left to present them to her in private, ashamed he didn’t have the money for a proper arrangement. “Would it be awfully corny to say ‘a trip down memory lane’? Starting possibly with the dance floor?”

.

“I - no, she’s in school and has a few jobs on the side.” Marielle bit her lip, “or rather, one or two - we make do with what we have.” She shook her head, “and I don’t think she is quite so interested in journalism - same goes for dance - she’s very much wanting to be her own person, which, given who her parents are, neither of us should be surprised by that.” A soft laugh escaped her lips, then. “The BBC’s a popular place for interns, then?” Did her best to force the articles she’d seen about Graham out with those very same interns from her memory. Pretty girls draped over him, all bright-eyes and smiles and giggles. “What exactly is a ‘fancam’? Ramona tends to send me dances on TikTok, or one trend about what you’d be if you were a color, season, and so forth.” After a small moment, she shrugged, “I think you’d be some sort of deep, warm, orange. Impossible to ignore, but...” like home, she swallowed, before she could add, “something special all it’s own.”

She attempted to fight back a smile at his next comment. “Oh, you like those? I just like them more than emojis, and besides, they are universal no matter what platform you read them on, unlike emojis, some of which look rather bizarre in certain cases.” Marielle sighed, “yes, well, the Daily Mail does run quite a fair few of those stories.” She glanced over to him, “and besides, some of them are young aren’t they? Or is any woman over the age of thirty-five no longer quite appealing? That is what I’ve heard is the belief in the film world.” Her gaze widened at his next remark - something she had hoped, had thought about, but hadn’t ever thought to bring up to him. “It is? Then perhaps I can tell you that I have found any number of those dates of yours rather not up to the standards you should have. I mean, you’re,” she gestured vaguely at him, “well, you, all this, and I think you could do better.” Another sigh, “that’s maybe because I’ve had a bit more to drink than I am used to.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but it worked nicely as an excuse.

“I seem to recall an over-eager boy who was very curious about my stretching habits and quite impressed that I could fold myself in half and put my legs behind my head.” Marielle flashed him a grin. “You know I am grateful for having that regular audience member. Certainly the only one I really performed for, in the end. Only one who was there, in my mind.” A casual admission, something that felt perhaps too much that way given how separate their lives were now. She could still remember falling naturally into his embrace after performances, sneaking out back and devouring some sort of chocolate bar together, melted chocolate staining lips that eventually found one another through laughter and didn’t separate until one of them decided that they perhaps had to go back home. “Yes, Mr. Goldstein, it would be terribly corny, but I would also happen to be readily agreeable to that.” She set her drink down and let her hand find his. Moved one of his hands towards her waist. “Would you be so kind as to lead me there?”

[mariellehuang]

samarxkhan​:

He waited patiently. Good listener, absorbing every word with a silent face, free of the small twitches that expressions were made of. There was much to say for someone with seemingly no attachment for the news anchor. “A pretty face,” he finally boomeranged back, comment beginning and ending with simply that, as if that was all the proof that was needed to support the argument without rubbing it in. “How about a glass of wine? Merlot?” he moved on, hand out to gesture towards the bar for her to take the first step. “I’m not a big drinker. Order what you want if you don’t like it,” he added. “I’ll still pay.”

.

“Yes, well, that is how one gets on air, isn’t it?”  She offered a shrug. “We as a species are rather inclined to gravitate towards beauty, ergo, should someone be conveniently beautiful, they are more likely to be hired by places where employees looking good brings in customers, viewers, what have you...” Marielle nodded, “a glass of wine sounds lovely.” She began to walk toward the bar. “I don’t usually drink much, unless it’s for a social function.” She offered him a smile. “You’re still awfully kind for someone who doesn’t even know me.”

[mariellehuang]

meaganfinley​:

It had been an ordeal, to say the least. Meagan breathed out a tiring sigh. “I’m not sure how open you are to hearing of the dangerous obsessive types, but I do appreciate the offer.” And she did. Truly. For the first time tonight, she felt her guard didn’t have to be bulletproof, which was a foolish idea. She had to always be on her toes in this climate of theirs, but a friendly smile went a long way these days.

“Well, I can start by saying, on a more pleasant note, that your dress is very unique in comparison to everyone else’s. Some are… gaudy let’s politely say,” she spoke in tones of gossip as she took her new seat. “One in particular should be carrying its own hazard lights.”

.

“I am open to it, should you wish to share, but I would not wish for you to have to relive whatever unpleasantries you have recently escaped from.” She offered the woman another smile, one that she hoped conveyed reassurance. 

“Well, thank you. It is a call to my job - I choreograph, and I did not think it appropriate to wear an actual ballet costume here, but this had enough inspiration from Swan Lake, or at least that was the intent.” She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Marielle leaned in, “can I ask which one you believe needs hazards? I will admit to not knowing nearly everything about fashion - and what I do know mostly remains in the dance world. You, on the other hand, seem to be far more expert.”

[mariellehuang]

thc-magician​:

She apologized for startling and Rune’s smile only softened as he shook his head. “No, I imagine you’re much more used to-” Or comfortable in? “-the backstage of it all, but I have a habit of collecting the programs of the shows I attend, so. I’ve just happened to notice that your headshot is particularly glamorous for most of the work you do being behind-scenes.”

Still, Rune offered a brief cheers of his glass and neatly filed away the information that she had a daughter. “I can understand a difficulty accepting compliments.” But only from an observer’s perspective; Rune, on the other side of the coin, had an ego that needed feeding. “They’re well-deserved, though. I’ve been attending the ballet for some time now,” — over twenty years, he realized with a pang — “And it’s been amazing to see the life you breathe into old classics on top of how your more modern work evolves. They’re quite lucky to have you.”

He considered for a brief moment, then added: “If it’s not too personal a question, can I ask what drew you to the ballet in the first place? Were you a dancer?”

“I am more used to it.” She nodded, offering him another soft smile. “I like being back where I can help others succeed - where I can craft stories - but thank you, I am certain the photographer would appreciate knowing that they’ve managed to even make the choreographer seem glamorous.” Marielle sighed. 

“It’s always been a trouble,” she continued, offering out her glass in cheers with his. “I suppose that I simply do not want to have others think I am making things all about myself, or that I think overly highly of myself...” she trailed off. “Well, thank you, again.” Marielle offered him another smile, brighter this time. “I aim to make even what has been done many times something refreshing, where possible. There’s always multiple sides to a story, and if I can work out a way to tell a different one, or more than one at once - well, then I think I have had quite the success.” She glanced down at her hands. “I am equally lucky to be able to work for them, and to have their trust in crafting the ballets I do, but thank you, again.”

She nodded to his question. “I did ballet for most of my childhood. I used to want to be a dancer, on stage, but I’ve found that I enjoy helping others succeed at the craft all the more rewarding. But yes, I danced from the time I could walk, just about. It wasn’t in London, wasn’t fancy, but it was my favorite parts of each week, and apparently I slept with my ballet shoes more than once.” 

[mariellehuang]

thecrookedhand​:

“Ooh yes that sounds like quite a good choice,” Eliza said with a soft smile before gesturing to the barman. “I’m the exact same, certainly not the kind of place that I would spend time in,”

.

“I might have guessed that, given how long I’ve known you.” She offered her friend another smile. “You and I are much more suited to movie nights and tea and things of that sort. Books and long conversations about every topic we can think of.” Marielle nodded, “we could attempt the conversation here at least, even if it’s not quite our usual location.”

[mariellehuang]

meaganfinley​:​

After an exhaustive encounter with someone so blatantly wrong, it was refreshing to hear the words of someone sensible. Meagan eased into the new air, the company a welcoming sight as she gave back a charmed smile. “Well, I’m certainly glad someone believes in the truth. You wouldn’t believe the hideous reaction I barely escaped from.” She released a breath from the turmoil before glancing at the empty spot beside the woman. She could perhaps use a break tonight.

“Are you waiting for someone to join you?”

.

“If you’d like to tell me about the reaction, I have been told I can be a good listener. However, should you prefer to just ignore all that, I am equally happy to do that.” She flashed the other woman a smile of her own, pleased that she made her way to stand next to Marielle. “I am not, as a matter of fact - I was hoping to find new and pleasant company, and I seem to have found that in you, so if you would be so kind as to come and be that company, I would be much appreciative, and promise to do my best to provide you with decent conversation.”

[mariellehuang]

samarxkhan​:

It was a learned skill, or perhaps habit, to merely watch and listen while another spoke. It was gathering all available data before a result could be calculated accurately. The sociologist’s paradigm. She had continued on for longer than anyone who wasn’t a fan should have, but the question was why? Why deny it? Samar’s face betrayed little because there was little to betray; the thoughts behind an even-tempered expression matched what laid beneath the surface, no emotions to sway any of the muscles of the lips or eyes.

“Most people who have been run into don’t ask the person who did the running if they’re a fan of whatever was playing on their phone.” A beat. “Unless they’re also a fan.” Not to mention the multitudes of denial, as if one was not enough. “It doesn’t matter to me either way.” Now he sounded uncaring probably. He pursed his lips for a second, regauging. “I can offer to get you a drink instead?”

.

“I figured it was a polite start of conversation, and perhaps something of a knee-jerk reaction, considering I was told when I was younger that saying sorry is not always the best route, unless of course it is one’s fault, then apologies should be given.” Marielle offered a small shrug. “Besides, I’ve heard that Graham Goldstein is not always the most pleasant in person. Charming enough, but a pretty face doesn’t necessarily mean worthy of being a fan, nor worthy of excessive admiration in general.” She pressed her lips together. “I’d love a drink. What would you order me, having just met me?”

[mariellehuang]

Marielle Huang - Event: A House of Cards and Lords 

Marielle has drawn inspiration from the ballet Swan Lake and has chosen her dress as one that honors the black swan. Her dress flows easily around her body, and has an air of a ballet costume while still looking expensive, and that is why she chose it.

[mariellehuang]

mayor-espino​:

“Ah, I would certainly agree. That sort of kindness is however rare in our world.” The political world, but also the one they lived in. People were bitter and cynical, and they hated anyone they considered part of the elite. If he knew her words were meant to be ones of reassurance, all he could feel was the impression that someone was sinking pins into his heart. There was an impossible heaviness to him anytime he dwelt on the possibility of never raising children of his own with his husband. “Ah, I will give all the credit to my tailor on that one.” He paused. “I’ll auction the outfit after tonight, donate the money to UNAIDS. I couldn’t possibly miss an opportunity to raise awareness on this matter.” It was a cause that was always dear to him and he regretted how it seemed like a lesser problem these days. Maybe the world had gotten darker even, and the cause had been swallowed under so many others, all as valuable, but giving it a bit of a highlight felt like the right thing to do.

“Quite frankly, I would have never thought of setting foot in a place like this, but they certainly did a good job decorating.” He wouldn’t go as far as thinking it to be tasteful, but it wasn’t so bad. “I’m not one for playing the numbers, but perhaps can I offer you a drink?”

“It is indeed all too rare.” Marielle sighed. Still, she did her best work to help those who she could, because she was of the belief that if she had the power to help even in potentially small ways, it would be a disservice not to. “However, one can try to do one’s best to improve the world, even in small ways. Even if I can help more kids like me get into dance - which is not exactly always known for being the most diverse - help them achieve dreams of theirs - then I will have done something right. Even if I can make the typical clientele of such performances recognize that not having everyone look the same is good, then that is something. One certainly cannot expect a sudden change overnight, but given all that I have achieved, I would hate to waste my status on selfish things and just making a name for myself.”

She smiled. “Well, give your tailor my highest compliments, and should I be in need of a suit, perhaps I’ll call them up.” Marielle nodded, “yes - and please let me know if you’d like me to write an additional check to that. Growing up, I never thought I’d actually have money to spare, and so I’d love to contribute to such an important cause.”

Marielle nodded, “I would agree - it is charming enough, I find, even if it is not the sort of thing I am used to either.” She shook her head, “oh, I don’t wish to play the numbers either, but I would gladly accept a drink with you.”