Lithia checked herself in the mirror once more, she couldn’t afford for a single hair to be out of place or a single eyelash to be goopy. She had to make sure she concealed the soft patch of freckles on her nose and plucked every stray hair from between her eyebrows. This was her routine before every show. The butterflies would come, and her mouth would go dry. It wasn’t so much the fear of messing up, Lithia could play, she knew she could play, and even if she missed a note, it wasn’t like anyone in the audience would notice anyway. The nerves weren’t for anything so simple as that, they were for being watched. Those people out there might not know a damn thing about music, but they did know fashion, style and all the little things that most people only understood in passing. They had turned into an artform, one they would pick you apart for missing even a little bit. The picking apart was something else they had turned into an art form, one that took just as much practice as Lithia’s piano and one they spent far more time working on than she could ever spend on something like her music.

Lithia tried to calm herself, tried to remind herself that she didn’t care what all those puffed up snobs out there thought, but it wasn’t quite true, she cared what they thought because her aunt cared and if they weren’t pleased Aunt Petra would make Lithia pay for it.

“It couldn’t get more perfect if you spent all day on it sweetie.” Lithia turned to see the newcomer, she was about ready to get into it with whichever spoiled little princess had come to poke at her, but smiled when she saw who it was. There wasn’t a lot Lithia liked about these shows, but Myra the stage manager was one of them. She wasn’t a performer herself, but was blessed with a drive to do nothing more than help bring music to the people. Myra managed to both charm and disarm all but the haughtiest of social players.

“Thanks Myra, you know how I get.” Lithia said. She wanted to hug the woman who was standing there with a motherly smile on her face and a bundle of red roses clutched in her hands.

“I do sweetheart, and I get it, you couldn’t drag me out in front of those people even if you payed me.” Myra said pinning one of the roses to Lithia’s dress. It clashed slightly with the soft pink Aunt Petra had insisted on, but Myra’s flowers were something of a tradition, one even Aunt Petra couldn’t argue with, though she had tried several times.

“If I had known who these were for, I might have tried to sell you a different color. Something white maybe.” Lithia said smiling and adjusting the rose slightly.

“No you wouldn’t have. You might not be able to poke at your aunt and the rest of them, but I can.” Myra said moving down the line handing flowers to several of the other musicians and singers who were firmly planted in front of their own mirrors. Lithia couldn’t help but note that Myra didn’t actually pin any of the flowers on any of them herself.

Lithia turned back to the mirror to give herself one last check. Regardless of what Myra said, she was sure there was something that would completely destroy her appearance in her aunt’s eyes. When she got a good look in the mirror, she saw two faces looking back at her, there was her own slightly pale expression, slightly powdery from the makeup that would keep her from shining under the hot stage lights, and behind her a sneering dark skinned face, one Lithia knew well.

“Hello Lithia. Where did you get that lovely dress? I’d love to get one just like it for our housekeeper for her birthday, she has your pale complexion.”

“Hi Abha. Oh so you have a new housekeeper? Aunt Petra said you had to let the last one go, something about her and your father, right?  You know I have a terrible memory for all that gossip.” Lithia said sweetly, a smile on her face that never quite reached her eyes.

“What did you just say?” Abha said, all pretence of friendliness gone from her voice.

“Oh nothing. Nothing at all, just something I heard. I’m sure it’s not even the slightest bit true, you know how these rumors get started.” Lithia turned away from the raging girl. She knew she had struck a good blow, honestly she’d probably actually gone a bit across the line, but while she despised the social games her aunt forced her to learn, it didn’t mean she didn’t know how to play them. If Lithia had to play anyway, why not make sure she won?

“Don’t you turn your back on me, you Venusian trash.” Abha said.

Lithia could feel her blood rising. Even through her makeup she could see the color fill her face but whatever it was Lithia was going to say, she wasn’t given a chance.

“Lithia, it’s time.” Myra said rushing over and inserting herself between the raging Abha and the equally furious Lithia.

Lithia forced herself to calm down. She couldn’t let Abha do this to her, not before she went on stage. If Lithia missed a note Abha would take credit for it and Lithia could not abide such a pety woman.

“Okay Myra, I’m ready.”

The crowd was silent as Lithia stepped out under the hot lights. She paused for a moment, just looking out over the sea of faces. Lithia wondered for a moment if even one of them understood anything about what she was about to do, anyone who knew even the first thing about music. She doubted it, but she could hope.

Lithia found her seat at the large old fashioned grand piano at the center of the stage. She took a moment to adjust her Helix settings, focusing on the piece of music in her mind so that the notes would swim into her field of view. Declining the option to see how closely her playing was to the recording in it’s system, she told her device to hold all incoming communications until she was off stage. All the modern distractions dealt with, Lithia considered the large antique instrument in front of her, it’s lines, it’s shape, it’s form. Thinking that unlike most things, this thing looked exactly like what it was, a thing of beauty that served no other purpose than to create even more. She started to play and everything fell away, the notes stopped being something she saw scrolling through her eyes, and became something she felt. The audience ceased to exist for her, and any anxiety she had faded away. It was like everything fell away as Lithia’s fingers hovered over the keys. The music seemed to pour out of her, riding waves of emotion. Lithia put everything into that piano, all her anger, all her nerves, all the frustration from the people out there that would be picking her apart. Everything, everything both good and bad in her fueled the notes that came raining out of her finger tips.

...

There wasn’t much of the performance Lithia could recall later, it flew by in a blur, the combination of emotion and the music making everything flow together. What she did remember was her aunt waiting backstage after the show. She was talking to someone Lithia didn’t recognize but it was one of the very few people Lithia had ever seen more finely dressed than her aunt, and the way Petra talked to her, Lithia was sure she was someone very high in the social order.

“Your niece plays beautifully.” Lithia heard the woman say.

“Why thank you. She did come very close didn’t she? Ninety two is better than most… You know, she didn’t want to play at first. She fought us tooth and nail when we got her first piano. She didn’t want to learn. She thought playing in the dirt and things like that were better pursuits for a girl her age.” Aunt Petra said, a practiced smile crossing her face for a moment.

Lithia didn’t know which statement bothered her more, the quoting of her score, as if music was some sort of competition with winners and losers, or that Aunt Petra was trying to take credit for Lithia’s piano, “Tooth and nail?” Lithia had had to fight for the Piano and it was only when Lithia had pointed out it would be another thing Aunt Petra could show off to her friends that she finally gave in. Lithia took a few deep breaths and forced a smile onto her face that she in no way felt.

“And here she is now.” Aunt Petra said, beckoning Lithia over sharply.

She walked over to where the woman and her Aunt were talking.

“Lithia, this is Rebeca Luen, head of the city’s counsel of the arts.” Aunt Petra said.

Lithia shook the woman’s hand. She had to keep her excitement contained for fear of embarrassing herself, or aunt Petra.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lithia.” miss Luen said smiling; “I’d have to say you were the stand out of the night. Looking at you up there so composed, so beautiful, and so talented. ”  

“Thank you.” Lithia said. She was honestly a little dazed. It was rare that she had ever actually been complimented on her playing. On how she looked while she played; all the time but never on her actual talents.

“I think we’ll be calling you very soon, Lithia. There is a real future for you in music…. If you want it that is.” Miss Luen said smiling.

“She might not be ready for that yet.” Aunt Petra said, turning away from Lithia and speaking to Miss Luen; “I’m sure your patrons wouldn’t accept anything less than scores of a hundred.”

Lithia knew her Aunts statement was true as far as it went, but she was also sure it wasn’t the real issue her aunt had with it. As her aunt Petra had told her time and time again, “Music is fine for a hobby, when you’re young... But it’s not a future. Not for our sort anyway.” That had been one of their longer running fights and the only other one that could rival it in duration or fury was the fights about Lithia’s future. She honestly wasn’t sure what her aunt expected. She didn’t want her to fly and she didn’t want her to play, but those were the only things Lithia ever showed even a little interest in. Actually that wasn’t quite true, Lithia knew exactly what her aunt expected. Lithia was to marry someone Petra picked, neither of them would work, instead they would host parties and have children to be a “credit” to her and the rest of the family.

“Some perhaps, but for the true connoisseur the score doesn’t matter. For them that’s not a true measure of skill. Lithia feels the music, she breathes it and it flows through and out of her.” Miss Luen said.

“We’ll see.” Petra said, bidding their goodbyes to Miss Luen and steering Lithia back into the crowd.

“Where is Uncle  Amir?” Lithia asked  once they were away. It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but what she wanted to say wouldn’t have gotten her anywhere, and at least finding her uncle would get her home.

“I sent him to get the car. He should be waiting for us outfront already.” Aunt Petra said.

True to Aunt Petra’s word, their car was waiting for them just out front, Uncle Amir sitting in the driver’s seat smiling quietly to himself as other cars zipped past him on all sides.

“Lithia you were Magnificent .” Uncle Amir said as they got into the car, and flew up into traffic.

“Thank you Uncle.” Lithia said. She knew he had little to no interest in music, and even less understanding, but Lithia also knew he meant it when he said it. Anything Lithia did was wonderful in his eyes. Whatever else Amir was, he was always sweet and supportive of Lithia, and she loved him for that.

“She was sloppy.” Aunt Petra said; “I don’t know who did your makeup but I’m going to make sure you don’t have them again.”

“But the music was…” Amir started.

“No one could pay attention to the music. How could they!? The person playing it looked like she was covered in baking powder, which was good. ninety two? Lithia I expect at least a ninety five from you if I’m going to keep humoring your little hobby. Petra said. For a moment Lithia thought Amir was going to say something in response, but a quick glance at his wife clearly made him stifle what ever it was.

Lithia wanted to take a deep breath and sigh but she knew from experience that would be enough to set Aunt Petra off again. Instead she simply leaned her head up against the window next to her seat and watched the Lower Terraces shrink behind them. Uncle Amir continued to fly the car back up to the level where he and Petra made their lives. It was odd Lithia thought, how something as large as the concert hall could so quickly become so small. Right now it was little more than a pinprick in the distance and in a moment it wouldn’t even be that. The old fashioned structures with their roman style pillars and their victorian trim on the first Terrace were slowly being replaced with the larger homes and upscale businesses that made up the higher Terraces. Soon even they would only be visible with effort when they reached the highest levels.

Still while everyone was trying to go higher, Lithia wasn’t. If Earth had to be her home, and for the moment it did, she prefered it lower. Even the first Terrace was a bit much, but the higher she went the worse it got. She had always thought The Upper Terraces looked like someone had taken a jumble of different design aesthetics and put them into a blender. Everything was an orderly jumble of disparate elements in oddly repeating arrangements.  As she looked at one building surrounded by giant greek columns supporting a multi-layered Pagoda style roof, she wondered if the owner had considered how the building might look before they decided to copy their neighbors newest edition.

The highest Terrace was different though, and to Lithia far worse. Below the people were trying to pretend to have some level of design and charm, up here where they had all the space they needed, there was no need for fancy design and exotic materials. Not that there wasn’t a bit of that still to be seen, but mostly there were big blocky mansions and sky scraping towers. The people at the highest level of society trying to top each other in how much space they could take up, and how far down they had to look to see their neighbors.

As the car rose higher and higher Lithia started humming a little tune,“All the little angels ascend up to Heaven. All the little angels ascend up high. Which end up? Ass-end-up. All the little angels ascend up high.”

The rest of the ride home was spent in silence except for Lithia’s quiet humming and considering some of the post show conversations they’ve had, Lithia was content. Still she was relieved as the car drifted to a stop on the small pad in front of her Aunt and Uncle’s  home.  

“Go upstairs and get that makeup off.  You look like you never see the sun. You don’t live in the undercity and It’s bad enough you dyed your hair that horrible shade of red. I’ll not have you looking like those Right to Light punks.” Aunt Petra said.

Lithia knew it wasn’t worth arguing, not tonight. Tonight she had plans, and nothing Aunt Petra could say would be enough to make her risk having to break them.

Next Chapter: Chapter 15: