The Opera's the Thing/Chapter 3

“Now, then, we’ll pick up where we left off yesterday”, Bjorn said. We were back in the main auditorium. I had managed to snag more than a few nasty glares from across the stage. I honestly couldn’t understand it; everyone made mistakes. I had made neither more nor fewer mistakes than anyone else, but Bjorn always pointed me out specifically, and the attention of the other performers was always centered on me in the worst way possible. We finally made it through the first three numbers without incident (other than Bjorn’s constantly disciplining me). When we were through, I skipped the refresher, got changed, and made it out of there before we could have a repeat of the previous day. I almost walked out the door before I turned around. Nobody else was out of the refresher yet, so I decided to give them cause to hate me; Grabbing Korlit’s duffel bag, I rifled through it.

''My mother always told me not to get my knickers in a twist. She never said anything about the knickers of another person'', and with that, I promptly tied Korlit’s sweatpants into a knot. Grabbing his shirt, I casually put it in the commode. Grinning to myself, I made it out of there just in time; the indignant bellows followed me all the way to Bjorn’s office. Checking to make sure nobody had seen me, I slid a flimsi-clip into the lock. With a twist, I sprang the lock. Closing the door behind me, I stopped for a minute to admire the immaculate workplace. There were filing cabinets in two corners, and a desk in the middle of the back wall. The many awards and trophies lined shelves three layers deep on two sides of the room. A number of diplomas and framed certificates practically covered another wall. Framed holos of Bjorn and a female Twi’lek I hadn’t seen before stood in neat rows on his desk. ''Must be his girlfriend. She doesn’t look like his type, though.'' Her appearance was very frilly; in one shot, she had on a pink party dress, with white ruffles everywhere, in another, a blue cocktail dress with a large black feather on one shoulder. I felt like I had seen her face somewhere before. I never forget a face that pretty. She was always smiling, while Bjorn looked like a portrait straight out of a history text; solemn, almost grim.

I decided I would start with the filing cabinets. The first one revealed nothing interesting, but the third shelf of the second cabinet yielded something that piqued my curiosity. I continued reading it. ‘’Paydirt.’’ Stuffing the flimsi into my pocket, I heard footsteps coming down the hall outside. A key slid into the lock, and I held my breath, looking frantically for a place to hide.

“Bjorn, darling! Where have you been, you naughty boy? We were supposed to meet for lunch!” The key slid back out.

“Yes, my dear, I was just so wrapped up in my work that I forgot”, replied Bjorn.

“Oh, that stuffy work. Well, if we hurry we can still make our reservations at Fechini’s. Let’s go, sweetheart!”

“Well, I still have some flimsi-work to fill out…”

“That can wait. But I can’t. I’m hungry!”

“Well… Oh, alright. But we’ll have to make it quick. I need to get that done as soon as I possibly can.”

“Great, let’s go! I’m double-parked.”

As the voices faded into the distance, I would have laughed out loud if it weren’t for my heart pounding out the Charselton Waltz in my ears. That high, valley-girl voice and that deep, solemn baritone. I wonder what it sounds like when they whisper sweet nothings in each others’ ears. I left the office as soon as I was sure it was safe. Slipping out the back door to the alley, I found my speeder. Well, most of it, anyways. The rest of it, namely the windows and fenders, were down in the underlevels by now. A note was stick-stripped to what remained of the windscreen. ''This is what happens to people who mess around with us. Next time, the airspeeder isn’t going to be the only thing smashed to bits and left on the side of the road.''

I quickly looked around, but only a few pedestrians were about in the early-afternoon light. Stuffing it into my pocket along with the flimsi I had found in Bjorn’s office, I shook my head at the remains of my speeder. Haling a passing cab, I told him my address. I’ll call a mechanic when I get home. Thinking of the massive bill I would get, I sighed heavily.

When we arrived at my apartment building, I gave the cabby his fee. Walking to my apartment, I slid the key into the lock. Looking about at the cluttered tables and counters, various pieces of trash adorning the carpet, I sighed. Home sweet home. I picked up my comlink and dialed up the repairman frequency. After explaining where my speeder was, I hung up. Taking out the flimsies from my pocket, I placed them on the table. I grinned to myself. I guess I’ll take these to the police tomorrow after practice. Leaving them on my table, I went into the bedroom. Taking off my clothes, I stepped into the refresher. All the dried sweat caked on my body disgusted me. Being in a Sith trooper uniform for hours at a time really put strain on your sweat glands. After I stepped out, I got dressed and went down to the landing platform. Hailing a cab, I asked him to take me to my favorite restaurant: Dexter’s Diner.