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009 | Une dernière danse

Une dernière danse
Pour oublier ma peine immense
Je veux m'enfuir que tout r'commence
Ô ma douce souffrance

“So, Roxanne. Are we going to see something new on stage this tour?” Roxanne smiled, not giving the journalist and his camera a yes or a no. Not letting anyone know. He tries, uses different angles and different questions, but she doesn't give in.

In the tour bus there is a fold with a twenty pages long script about an exotic dancer trying her luck in Paris - as always with Roxanne in the main role. But now in french, a language she thought that she never would use outside of school. Well, mrs Delacour would be proud, if she still was alive.

Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse
Et dans le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur
Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole

The tour bus was a mess, as it used to be on tour. But the last few years she had been alone… well, surrounded by adults and like minded people. But right now she watched as her six year old son slept there. How many times had there been coke on the tables? How many nights had they had tequila parties with hot fans here? Roxanne was almost ashamed of herself for letting the kid come along with her. She did need to clean up her mess, clean up her act. Get her shit together, but it was like she had forgotten how to be a good parent.

“Hey, Henry. Change our bookings for the upcoming cities, will you? I don’t care about the prize, just find all the family hotels with… kids stuff, and no alcohol.” She hung up the phone after her assistant had confirmed that he understood the assignment. Small steps