Hiding behind the stage curtain and absentmindedly watching Geon's profile as he took the stage, Kiska slipped out the back door of the stage and scurried down the quiet opera house corridor during the performance. As she cautiously opened the door to the opera house's rear audience entrance, Kiska's view expanded from the limited side stage to the full view of the stage.
Imdiately upon opening the door, Kiska was not greeted by the splendid stage or the shining figure of Leontine Price singing with Geon. Instead, the first thing Kiska felt was the intense warmth generated by the audience's focus, enveloping her small body, which looked about six years old due to her significantly smaller stature than other children her age, as she stepped through the door. The warm breeze fluttered her sky-blue dress.
With her big eyes wide open, Kiska's gaze landed on Geon, who was holding Leontine Price's hand, singing with great focus.
"Everything begins with a dream.
Nothing is possible without dreams!
First, have a dream.
Those who dream for a long ti
Eventually beco like that picture they dream of.
Dream big.
Even if that dream breaks,
The fragnts of a big dream will remain large."
The soprano aria that burst from Geon pierced through little Kiska's body. Her legs trembling, she clutched the back seat tightly, unable to take her eyes off the stage. What began as a playful opera performance turned into a ga of finding hidden pictures for Kiska as she wrote down phrases inspired by Professor Corigliano's music and Professor Price's synopsis and then worked to make each phrase shine the sa way. However, this was no longer a ga for Kiska watching the outco. That day, Kiska dreamt a different kind of dream for the first ti, not the kind she had at night.
"You don't have to stand there! I just want to be close to that shining place!"
As the final chorus of Leontine Price, Geon, and the student actors reached Kiska's ears, they sang together with serious faces, so with smiles, and others with bright laughter. Leontine Price, stepping forward, began to sing to the audience and the world, locking eyes with each mber as if conveying a final ssage, with Geon behind her, arms stretched wide as if to embrace everyone.
"Learn sothing new,
Try sothing new,
And make magnificent mistakes.
Mistakes are your asset."
As the other actors silenced and slightly bowed their heads, Leontine Price alone, locking eyes with the audience, sang with a clear voice as lodious as the song of a canary.
"Don't excuse your youth for your inadequacies,
Nor bla age and honors for your laziness.
The biggest enemy of dreams is fear.
The biggest mistake you can make in life
Is being so afraid to make a mistake
That you don't dare to try."
Leontine Price then placed both hands on her left chest and smiled warmly at the audience.
"Look at ,
Look directly at standing before you now,
At , who has gone through nurous wars and poverty.
I don't wish my future for you.
Because you can be a better person than .
My final wish,
The last song I want to convey to you,
Is that you dream.
Whether you're a young student or in your middle years,
If you have dreams you haven't realized yet, go for them.
That's the last thing
I want to tell you."
As Leontine Price's final speech ended, the music stopped, and the actors raised their heads, locking eyes with each audience mber as if to send a ssage. To have dreams, not to give up, to look at the hellish path she had tread, to behold the splendid end of a drear.
The actors' silence lingered. The audience, contemplating what they had given up in life, couldn't even think to applaud. Leontine Price, with a gentle smile, slightly bent her knees and turned to look at Geon, whose entire body was drenched in sweat from the intensity of his performance. As he smiled brightly at her, she opened her arms and hugged him.
"Thank you, Kay."
As she expressed her gratitude, Geon, touching her back, quietly said,
"Goodbye, diva of the world, Professor Leontine Price."
A tear streaked down the professor's cheek at Geon's words. Leontine Price, who lived a life full of hardships yet never gave up on her dreams, had beco a global diva with the help of music. Now, at 90, she returned to the mont of her debut in the opera "Aida" at 22. She thought she would never feel the satisfaction that enveloped her entire body after her first performance again, but as she trembled with the sa sensation, her tear-streaked face bore the brightest smile she could muster. Stepping forward, she bowed
deeply to the audience.
Perhaps receiving what might be her last bow, an elderly female audience mber, wiping her face with a handkerchief, stood up and shouted,
"Bravi!"
Awakened from their reverie by the elderly audience mber's tearful shout, the audience rose, clapping and cheering as loudly as they could.
"Bravi! Bravi!"
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!"
"The best performance ever! It was the best!"
An elderly gentleman, his face sared with tears, couldn't even stand up from the sofa, his body shaking as he clapped, and a young woman, seemingly a student, covered her mouth with her hands, unable to take her eyes off the ended stage, crying.
Norman nodded at the audience's reaction.
'Her last performance has ended like this. It will remain a legend for a while. But, Leontine Price, are you satisfied? Listen to the audience's shouts. They're shouting "Bravi," not "Brava." They see the star of this stage not just as you but as both you and Kay. Are you truly satisfied, Professor?'
In Norman's sympathetic gaze, Leontine Price, receiving thunderous applause, hugged each of the students on stage. After embracing everyone, she shouted with joy,
"Now, I pass my dream on to you."
Geon caught a glimpse of a suddenly aged and weary Leontine Price. Even during the performance, the dignified black diva looked significantly older after her last performance. Geon, with a pained expression, supported her as she looked at him and smiled faintly.
"It's a bit hard. Shall we go in?"
"Yes, Professor. I will take you."
As Geon and Leontine Price exited the stage, and the audience's excitent hadn't even subsided, the curtain slowly closed. There were no encore requests since it was neither a musical nor a concert, but the audience, continuing to applaud and call for a curtain call, gradually left as the curtain did not reopen. Journalists watching the ended stage on their PCs began to pour out hundreds of articles in real ti.
"The dazzling final appearance of the Diva of the Century!"
"Over 100 million audience mbers' cheers! Three hours of emotion!"
"The aria of the angel of the present, Kay! Touching!"
"The last ssage of the world's crying black diva"
"The best performance! The best planning! The best song!"
"The best lyrics! Stirring the heart! A special feature on Kiska Miočić's re-light"
"John Corigliano, my best music!"
"British critic Norman Lebrecht, a performance that needs no words!"
After the audience left, on the empty stage soaked in the emotion of the performance, Kiska, sitting alone on the back sofa with a blank expression, spotted a woman standing alone on the stage. With her eyes wide open, Kiska looked closely, tears welling up in her large eyes. Mumbling with her lips, Kiska's eyes filled with tears as she pointed at the woman on stage, seeing her mother with a bright smile, arms wide open.
Having thought she would never see her again, with every dream encounter ending in her mother's death, Kiska, now old enough to know the reality of dreams and illusions, did not rush to her but simply watched silently. Her mother, who had been smiling brightly, ca down from the stage, walked through the empty audience seats, and approached her. As her mother ca closer and extended her hand, asking,
"Kiska, why are you crying?"
As her mother spoke, her appearance changed to Geon, concerned and extending his hand. Kiska's tears flowed more abundantly as she reached out her arms, begging to be hugged. Geon, looking at her with pity despite her silent crying, picked her up, wiped her tears, and asked,
"Kiska? What happened?"
Hugging Geon's neck and crying, Kiska just clung to him tighter without saying a word. Geon, puzzled but comforting her, carried the girl to the green room. The student actors had already left, and Leontine Price, her mascara sared by tears, was left alone in front of the mirror in the green room. Geon, intending to say sothing, looked at Leontine Price reflected in the mirror for a while, then quietly closed the door and sat outside on a bench. Kiska, unwilling to leave his side, looked down at the closed door of the green room with a complicated gaze.
'What will my last appearance be like? Will I disappear into a whirlwind of futility like the Professor?'
For Geon, witnessing a musician's last mont was a first. Without ever contemplating his own end, these fragnts of ti and thought left him rely confused. Soone's hand rested on Geon's shoulder after a mont of deep thought. Startled by the touch, Geon looked up to see Leontine
Price, now seemingly refreshed and brightly smiling.
"Ah! Professor! Are you ready to go?"
As Geon quickly stood up, holding Kiska, Leontine Price nodded slightly and said,
"Yes, I'm ready now. Shall we leave?"
Sensing sothing unusual in her tone, Geon hesitated to respond, but she smiled and took the first step towards the opera house exit. Watching her lonely back as he held Kiska, Geon hurriedly followed when he saw Leontine Price waving at him from the distant entrance.
>
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