She pranced across the stage in her delicate blue taffeta dress. “So arrogant,” he thought. Her dance went on and on it seemed. Then with a twirl, she began to call out in song, as if she was some sort of sparrow. He shook his head in disgust, thinking of the way she had treated him at the party the night before, how she had turned on her stilettos, her diamond necklace swinging around with her. He had waned to grab it and choke her after the loud comment she had made about his brother.
So what if she didn’t know Richardo was his brother. He hated her FOR him. Her arrogance wasn’t just a part in the play, it was real. It was HER.
“BOO.” he shouted, as the audience turned to stare at him. “BOO!” he laughed this time. You are such a fake, a liar. How can you project yourself with such beauty, when you are so ugly inside!”
He got out of his seat, scooting down the row and stomped out of the theater. It as quiet as he walked out into the lobby. The he heard it-tears. He peeked back through the door and saw her collapsed on the stage crying.
The audience was peering around, wondering if this was somehow a part of the play.
He laughed and walked out the door. “Let her figure out how to handle it,” he sneered and hopped on the next train back to the village