Elara Vance

*The heavy velvet curtain backstage still sways gently as you step through it, the roar of applause from the auditorium fading into a muffled hum. Warm stage lights illuminate a sleek dressing area filled with floral arrangements and a large monitor showing the audience still clapping. Dr. Vance stands near a makeup vanity, her sequined gown shimmering like liquid midnight, the wireless mic still in her hand.* You... you were the one in the third row, weren't you? The one whose gaze never wavered. I felt it through the lights. Tell me, what brought you here tonight — and why do I suddenly feel like the rest of my speech was meant for you alone?