Personally, it would come as a great shock to me if anyone who works in or around the family, or indeed any citizen of Acradya, had heard about the Olivette's; as we mostly play in humble bars and saloons, performing to groups of, at most, 100 hard-working people hoping to relax a bit before or after work.
Slowly but surely, and subconsciously stopping along the way to exchange pleasantries with some known inhabitants of Dravia (something I would, in any other anxiety-reduced state, never do), we make our way backstage of the quickly built wooden stage which faces the royal box, where all the other artists seem to be preparing for the show of their lives.
In a somewhat secluded corner under the large tent, far from the crowd, my eldest brother stands with our instruments and a heavily focused face, bringing a small wrinkle between his eyebrows as he studies the music sheets he undoubtedly already knows by heart.
Hyde and I carefully approach him, as to not disturb or startle him, as we already know what consequences stress can cause on our older brother. Of course, coming from a family with various degrees of emotional instability, one never truly knows when an Olivette might explode, or when they might simply start crying.
"Something amiss with the composition?" Hyde jokes, sitting next to Gregory, who seems to snap out of his concentrated trance, the wrinkle disappearing as his brown eyes soften to meet ours.
"Of course not, wonderboy, your sheet is perfect." Gregory jokes, stressing the double e in the word 'sheet'.
"So glad your career isn't comedian, brother. I don't think you'd make it." I joke. "Although I'm sure that's just your lovely little way of coping with the nervousness we're all feeling in relation to this performance."
"And mentioning the fact only brings the subtlety out of my clever ruse." He rolls his eyes. "And if you must know, I am not nervous, or stressed, or anything of the sort. I am, in fact, very grateful that I get to share this moment with you two idiots and that we've been deemed talented enough to close out this circus." A snorted laugh leaves his lips. "Although, looking around, it doesn't seem like we have much competition…" He trails off.
The acid humour only comes as yet another tell-tale sign that Gregory is fighting nerves, but it brings my attention to the other talent surrounding us. From what I gather, we have a magician; a dancer; a ventriloquist, with a scarily accurate puppet of herself; a lady and her pet wild boar (that one is Emilja, whose family also owns a small washing business, and is a very kind young girl, albeit very attached to Mr. Snuffles, her boar); and, finally, a three-person acting group. In comparison, I can see how Gregory, biassed as he is, would think us more talented than the others, especially if taking into consideration our performance is, for lack of a better word, the only one of professional calibre.
Hyde takes a quick glance at the call sheet lying next to Gregory, before passing it to me.
Mayor Speech
Emilja & Mr. Snuffles - Pet Trainer
Fay - Classical Dancing
The Three Musketeers - Improvised Acting
The Talented Mr. Gus - Magician
Sunshine & Thunder - Ventriloquist
the Olivette's - Band
Instead of tranquilising me, the knowledge of having to sit through an hour and a half of speeches and festivities until our name was finally announced by the organising committee seemed like what could possibly be the longest hour of my 21 years of life; that sentiment sent a shiver through my spine and sweat to my palms, and I instinctively started fidgeting with myself, my sweaty hands making their way up towards my hair and twisting and turning until some of the strands came loose.
All around us, the only sounds were talent getting ready, and the roaring voices of the public, clamouring to see and speak to their perceived betters. They shouted words of adoration, but here and there could be heard some burning questions about the declining quality of life, and how they may make it better. These voices seemed to sting my brain the hardest, but you'd never hear the same one twice.
Although unable to see his face, I knew my father, as the studious and philosophical critic he is, was happy to carefully analyse the crowd's reaction to their majesties. As the criticising few were indeed a very small minority, their screaming was soon drowned out by louder words of praise, which calmed me, as I was only hoping this experience wouldn't sour their royal highnesses to the Sectors, or, indeed, to the inhabitants of Dravia, and bring unwanted consequences to our people.
A part of me also wanted to believe that my brothers and I were talented enough to challenge the Acradyan perception of the Sectors, and perhaps turn their opinion in our favour, although that was an incredibly selfish and egotistical thought to have, considering everything else.
Finally, the mayor takes the stage. His voice in the megafone quickly silences the circus, and he addresses their majesties first before even beginning his speech.
Mayor Frederick, always with his stern and slow manner of speaking, talks of the supposed beginnings of our humble civilisation, how the Gods chose our distinguished guests to rule over us, and how we can only prosper under their guidance. After some more boring segments about the particulars of Dravia, our main exports, our dedication to educating the young minds of all Sectors, and our homely, comfortable culture. Finally, he announces the first act, and Emilja takes the stage with Mr. Snuffles, to an applauding audience.
Emilja's 15min set seems to leave her exhausted, as she walks backstage sweating and sporting a smile that seems anything but genuine.
After taking a big sip of water, Fay Donavan, whom I'm familiar with through hearing of her excellent contributions to my father's An Introduction to the History of Celestian Art classes, steps onto the stage. I try to catch glimpses of her act, and am entranced by the way she seems to move much like the angels in ancient Celestian paintings. Her 15min act goes well, and she rejoins us backstage with pride and calm, the artists also offering her a round of applause.
Fay is followed by the truly peculiar act of The Three Musketeers, who take crowd suggestions as to how their act and story will develop, the final product being the story of a travelling salesman who commits a horrific murder and must escape the law to be reunited with his beloved. As the story concludes, the crowd does its best to give them their flowers, applauding with some confusion over the overall arc and conclusion, but applauding nonetheless.
The Talented Mr Gus, or, Gustav Hale, an immigrant from Caladia, just to the north of Dravia, a very rare thing since citizens from the upper-class Sectors rarely immigrate to those considered below them, literally or figuratively. Gustav, being from a land of milk and honey, where they grow cattle to feed us all, and even neighbouring Kingdoms, retells the story of how out of place he felt in Caladia, for being attracted to the odd and magical things in life, before he begins his act.
I must admit, the man is indeed talented, making my eyes and those of the audience shine with curiosity as we are left baffled by his tricks. He exits the stage through roaring applause, being immediately congratulated by all the remaining artists.
Sunshine & Thunder, also known as Belle Klein and her puppet, another successful, for lack of a better word, import artist, this time from Fortya, another food growing Sector, but a quite poor one, with terribly high taxes.
To the surprise of all in attendance, in particular the mayor, Belle's act takes a turn into the political, with her and Thunder retelling stories of growing up in the second poorest Sector, and helping her family survive by working on their farm, then eventually trying her luck with her travelling show, earning money to keep them.
Her act is suddenly cut short by an announcement of the Mayor that, due to their majesties tight schedule and need to continue their travelling to Caladia for the next festivities, we will be progressing to the next act. Without letting herself show her defeat, Belle gracefully exits the stage, as the mayor announces the next act: the Olivette's.