Ethan was immediately obsessed with the ballerina. He sat too far back to make out her features, but her fluid movements, weightless leaps and unceasing smile reached him from across the theatre.

Rose was delighted that he had enjoyed the show, as he had been so reluctant to attend when she suggested it. She laughed when he approached the ticket booth to purchase tickets for the next night’s performance. She stopped when he purchased only one.

Ethan hardly noticed Rose’s swift withdrawal from him. He only wanted to see her.

The programme had only her first name: Marion. 

The next night, Ethan sat as close to the front as possible, waiting for the lights to dim before darting forward four rows to place himself in an empty seat in the front row.

His fear of being ousted was immediately forgotten when Marion glided onto the stage. Ethan was still not quite able to see her face clearly. Though as close as possible, it seemed that the orchestra pit pushed the front row back further than normal. Still, her smile was apparent to all, her movements in perfect tempo.

The only annoyance to Ethan was that some member of the orchestra was using a metronome. The clicking was faint, but noticeable in the lulls.

After the performance, Ethan joined the dozens of fans waiting at the doors of the theatre for the Marion to sign autographs and greet her fans. A cheer erupted when she appeared at a balcony above them, smiling as an attendant worriedly kept her from the edge. She stood only at the edge of the doorway, the light behind her crafting a perfect silhouette. She even waved perfectly, turned her gaze to each person below.

Ethan gasped when she looked at him. He knew it was different than it was for anyone else. Years from now, he knew she would recall seeing him for the first time. She would laugh about gazing at him a moment longer than all the others and sigh as she spoke about knowing he was the one.

He just had to give her the chance.

It took weeks to learn the choreography of the theatre itself. What is seen on stage is only a fraction of the machine hidden behind sets and curtains. But Ethan was patient. He learned who did not pay attention and who could be paid to lack attention. He learned which hallways went to the dressing rooms, then learned that Marion’s room was next to the producer’s office.

Ethan would save her from that impropriety, he decided. The producer, from what he saw, kept busy. He was always in the rafters, demanding lighting and any hanging props be moved.

Ethan did not see Marion in that time, except on stage and at the balcony attached to her room. He decided that he would need to approach her before her performance, and before she was somehow transported past her fans without being spotted.

As he approached the door, the producer was in the rafters, dealing with a light Ethan had shifted.

It wasn’t locked, as though Marion had known he’d need to enter quietly. He wondered if she was already packed, waiting to be saved.

He found her asleep at her vanity. She had fallen forward as though modelling sleep. Ethan called her name softly. Marion remained still.

Ethan knew what to do. He walked forward confidently and embraced her.

As Ethan wrapped his arms around the hunched figure, two things happened in unison: the bell calling for the audience go take their seats rang, and Ethan realised something was wrong. The arms under his did not yield. No gasp or breath escaped the body he compressed. Her hair was immaculate, yet he felt loose hairs like spider webs across his skin.

Over the pealing bell, Ethan heard the quiet chorus of ticks as Marion’s joints tightened and she began to stand. What he thought were gossamer hairs tightened around him. Strings pulled Marion to a standing position, straining with the extra weight of Ethan for a moment. Then the pieces fell away from her.

Marion’s painted smile never faltered, and her glass eyes never blinked as she walked to the stage. She would not understand the horror at her dripping form. It was not what she was made for.

As he lay bleeding on the floor, Ethan knew that that he should not have looked so closely at perfection.