Darling Heart, I loved You From the Start.
I must go, the dawn is slowly approaching.
Until next time, my darlings.
Marzo 2012
thebiancasolderini asked: "Hello, my name is Bianca Solderini. Pleased to meet you!" Bianca smiled sweetly at her and extended her hand.
Bianca smiled softly. “Yes, I am. For 512 years now. I can sense that you are older than I am.” Bianca asked, chuckling. “How have the nights been faring you, dear Lydia?”
She watches Bianca, meeting her eyes, and feeling herself soften slightly. Most of the time she didn’t trust others of her kind because of her history, but Bianca seemed to be all right. “512? I am a little bit older, yes.” She gives a warm smile back to Bianca. “I am well enough. Bored, to be honest. This town doesn’t seem to have any excitement or adventure in store for me.”
“You could come and visit me sometime if you want to! I can take you around London, and I know where to find good blood. I only feed off Evildoers though. I know all the best clubs! London’s not boring, I must say.” Bianca said excitedly. “Or if you enjoy the opera, you can watch me at the Royal Opera House, I perform there. We’re doing Carmen now.”
“That sounds delightful. I’m exploring America at the moment, but can always use a good tour around cities by a guide as lovely such as yourself, Bianca.” She smirks deviously, nodding. “Everyone has preferences. I am always up for a good adventure, clubbing, dancing, rock and roll.” This is said meeting Bianca’s eyes, smiling. “You’re a performer? I used to dance. But not anything lofty as that. I’ve never been to an Opera.” She admits softly.
“Thank you.” she said softly, smiling. “I do like clubbing, it’s really fun! Yeah, I started three years ago when I woke up from my long sleep. Oh you’ll enjoy the opera! Just recently, the Queen watched my show! I was so honoured and nervous at the same time!” she said and giggled.
If something has gone wrong, a Taurus will blame their own carelessness instead of blaming other people.
thebiancasolderini asked: "Hello, my name is Bianca Solderini. Pleased to meet you!" Bianca smiled sweetly at her and extended her hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Lydia. I do love the colour of your hair. During my time, red hair was a rarity. And please, Bianca will do, for I do like to be friendly.” she smiled. “Are you a blood drinker, Lydia?” she asked.
At the woman’s soft compliment, her lips curl into a genuine smile, getting the compliment often, but it was still appreciated. “It was in my time as well. Hence why I was made. Thank you. Yours is beautiful as well. Not many among my people had such a bright color.” Her dark eyes widen in surprise at the forwardness of the question, as she was unused to others being as upfront about it, but she nods her head. As she speaks again, her accent is softer, her natural speaking voice, because she knew that she didn’t have to put on any sort of show for the other woman. “I am, Bianca. From your words, I would guess that you are as well?”
Bianca smiled softly. “Yes, I am. For 512 years now. I can sense that you are older than I am.” Bianca asked, chuckling. “How have the nights been faring you, dear Lydia?”
She watches Bianca, meeting her eyes, and feeling herself soften slightly. Most of the time she didn’t trust others of her kind because of her history, but Bianca seemed to be all right. “512? I am a little bit older, yes.” She gives a warm smile back to Bianca. “I am well enough. Bored, to be honest. This town doesn’t seem to have any excitement or adventure in store for me.”
“You could come and visit me sometime if you want to! I can take you around London, and I know where to find good blood. I only feed off Evildoers though. I know all the best clubs! London’s not boring, I must say.” Bianca said excitedly. “Or if you enjoy the opera, you can watch me at the Royal Opera House, I perform there. We’re doing Carmen now.”
thebiancasolderini asked: "Hello, my name is Bianca Solderini. Pleased to meet you!" Bianca smiled sweetly at her and extended her hand.
The redhead watches the blond woman approach, detecting the smallest hint of an Italian accent in the way she phrased her words, and accepted her outstretched hand. “Ms. Solderini, iz a pleazure to meet you as well. Lydia Lefevre.” Though it wasn’t her true last name, as surnames didn’t come until much later, she enjoyed the way the French rolled off her lips, and reminded her of Paris before the great pestilence.
“Pleased to meet you, Lydia. I do love the colour of your hair. During my time, red hair was a rarity. And please, Bianca will do, for I do like to be friendly.” she smiled. “Are you a blood drinker, Lydia?” she asked.
At the woman’s soft compliment, her lips curl into a genuine smile, getting the compliment often, but it was still appreciated. “It was in my time as well. Hence why I was made. Thank you. Yours is beautiful as well. Not many among my people had such a bright color.” Her dark eyes widen in surprise at the forwardness of the question, as she was unused to others being as upfront about it, but she nods her head. As she speaks again, her accent is softer, her natural speaking voice, because she knew that she didn’t have to put on any sort of show for the other woman. “I am, Bianca. From your words, I would guess that you are as well?”
Bianca smiled softly. “Yes, I am. For 512 years now. I can sense that you are older than I am.” Bianca asked, chuckling. “How have the nights been faring you, dear Lydia?”
Opening Night || Open RP
The Countess let her gaze move from one human to another, stopping the urge to sneer and hiss at the foul stench permeating around her body. She loathed to be among humans who believed themselves to be above mortality and to be of her kind. Even worse, to see women wear provocative clothing one would see of women who sold their flesh or danced on the laps of gentlemen. What sort of woman would wear such a high slit in a gown to an opera?! The urge to take the woman and slice her throat in the same manner the slice of her dress left for all eyes to gaze upon. Yet, she would not do such an act on Bianca’s night. No, The Countess would reign in her disgust at the humans and the hunger to remove them from this world, by turning her mind away from the deplorable humans and enter into her private box number 5.
Such an appropriate box to have to herself, the guards at her sides keeping watch, even as she waited for Bianca to move on stage. Her eyes, took stock of where the Queen of England would be, knowing the old woman would be surrounded by guards. A woman like her would benefit to have a singing creature like Bianca on stage. When the curtains were raise, The Countess turned her attentions back towards the cast of characters, but she searched for Bianca. Bianca, her consort, and dear ally, one whom she had never expected to meet nor to greet upon. Their personas would have clashed, but there was something about the young woman. She did not care about her background and knew she kept others in company, but she knew there was an allegiance towards the adopted daughter.
A daughter she now held in her embrace, cooing at the young child, dressed to a finery and looking at the stage. While the child might be too young to know what here surroundings were, The Countess whispered her mother was now on stage. A mother who moved about and sang to what she presumed entranced all within the opera house. The Countess watched Bianca move towards Don Jose, she clapped with the young babe to see the woman on stage pour her long faded heart to the human world. Such a world which would know there were creatures of the night who could play the roles of human quite well. A role, The Countess watched Bianca play throughout the scenes on stage. “Your mother will become a star in her own right,” she whispered to the babe, given the gracious opportunity to look after the young babe. She had inquired of where the child would be and The Countess took it upon herself to look after the young one.
A young one who cooed and laughed at the performers, but seemed to keep a rapt attention on her mother. The Countess made quick work to see Bianca move about and sing her despair to be murdered as Carmen. She knew it was a fictional character, but if Bianca were ever to fall to such a fate, there would be blood to spill the walls of this opulent opera house. When the curtains finally came down, The Countess threw her own roses towards the stage and winked at the little child who wanted to play with the flowers. “You will play with many more, come, we must see to your mother and then to the Queen. She and I have much to talk since our last conversation fifty years ago,” she explained, bringing the child into her arms before she exited, once more fighting the urge to murder, but kept sane by the performance and the young human in her arms.
Bianca, now dressed in her simple little black dress and matching heels, made her way to the Countess who was holding her daughter. “I hope she wasn’t naughty.” she said. “How was I? Was I okay? I didn’t make a cake out of myself?” she asked, biting her lip. “And Her Majesty? Did she look like she enjoyed it?” she asked again. “Oh forgive me, I mean, this is the first time a monarch has ever watched me!”
The Countess held up a hand to cease the questions especially the ones where Bianca thought herself to be horrible with her singing. “You were exquisite and you were a woman who had the attention of everyone, including, the Queen of England. In fact, I would not be surprised a letter were to find its way to the Queen.” The Countess smirked knowing how could a Queen not want to be here to congratulate Bianca. “Your daughter missed her mother, but she would rather look upon the woman surrounded by guards,” she stated, nodding towards the entrance of the Ball.
“Oh. I must go back home first to change up!” she giggled. “I shall wear my lovely gown and my jewels, and sing my daughter to sleep first. I will follow, don’t worry.” she gently took Victoria from the Countess and her daughter looked up at her, smiling brightly, her little teeth showing. She then yawned and snuggled on Bianca’s chest. “Someone’s sleepy!” she said, and kissed her daughter’s forehead. She then kissed the Countess’ cheek. “Give me an hour, tops.” she said, and giggled. She then waved and went inside her car.
As soon as she got home, she changed her daughter’s clothes and diaper and sat on the rocking chair beside the crib and sang a lullaby. It didn’t take long for her daughter to go to sleep, for she was up past her usual bedtime. She placed Victoria on the crib and called the nanny. “Mildred, I’ll be back before dawn,” she whispered, then ran to her room and showered, then she dried herself, opening the protective bag that contained her exquisite gown. She slipped into it with ease and asked the maid to help her with the buttons that lined at the back. She then sat in front of her dresser, putting on only a little make up, for she felt like she didn’t need it as much. Putting on her jewelry, she then stood up and slipped into her shoes and took her clutch bag on the dresser and went down. “Your cloak, Madam.” her butler said and slipped the white cloak around her. “Thank you.” she said and smiled, then went in the car. “Grosvenor House, please, Oscar.” she said.
When she arrived at Grosvenor House, she went inside, and walked to the Great Hall, looking for the Countess. Dearest Countess, I am here already. she said, using her Mind Gift.
thebiancasolderini asked: "Hello, my name is Bianca Solderini. Pleased to meet you!" Bianca smiled sweetly at her and extended her hand.
The redhead watches the blond woman approach, detecting the smallest hint of an Italian accent in the way she phrased her words, and accepted her outstretched hand. “Ms. Solderini, iz a pleazure to meet you as well. Lydia Lefevre.” Though it wasn’t her true last name, as surnames didn’t come until much later, she enjoyed the way the French rolled off her lips, and reminded her of Paris before the great pestilence.
“Pleased to meet you, Lydia. I do love the colour of your hair. During my time, red hair was a rarity. And please, Bianca will do, for I do like to be friendly.” she smiled. “Are you a blood drinker, Lydia?” she asked.
Anonymous asked: “Nijah! Oh wait, I’m sorry, I must have entered the wrong shop.” Bianca said, and slowly walked towards the door.
“It’s me, Bianca.” Nijah winked as he watched his friend blushed with embarrassment: “The grey face anon finally got me. Had to be in male form for one night.”
“Oh.” she said. “Well, you look handsome as a man, I must say.” she said, and gave her friend a hug. “Are you going to the opening night as a man? It is tonight, you know.”
“Humph..” Nijah gave her a thoughtful look: “I might. I still have some suits down at the back, what time is the opera start?”
“8:30. Then the gala ball is at Grosvenor House, at the Great Room, just so you know.”
“I will be there,” Nijah grinned warmly.
Bianca giggled. “Of course you will, silly! You’re costumes are there!” she tapped Nijah’s shoulders gently. “And I’m telling you, the costumes you made are absolutely wonderful!”
“I’m glad you like it, cheri.” Nijah inclined his head: “To be frank, this form is a trifle awkward to get used to. All the emotions and sensations are different.” Said the older vampire with a frown.
“I remember my time as a man. It was brief only, but I felt really weird all over. I still prefer being a woman.” she said, giggling.
“Quite,” The older vampire chuckled: “as much as I enjoy looking different for one night, I found I am quite looking forward to my old self.”
“I remember when I poofed back into my woman self again, I felt like I was coming back home!”
Nijah nodded in agreement: “What time is the opera start?”
“It starts at 8:30, and the balls at 11.” she said, smiling. “Now, I must go back to the opera house to prepare myself.” she kissed Nijah’s cheeks and before leaving, she said. “I’ll see you later, cher!”
Everyone's A Little Bit Racist
Avenue Q Cast
Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist
Avenue Q
Anonymous asked: “Nijah! Oh wait, I’m sorry, I must have entered the wrong shop.” Bianca said, and slowly walked towards the door.
“It’s me, Bianca.” Nijah winked as he watched his friend blushed with embarrassment: “The grey face anon finally got me. Had to be in male form for one night.”
“Oh.” she said. “Well, you look handsome as a man, I must say.” she said, and gave her friend a hug. “Are you going to the opening night as a man? It is tonight, you know.”
“Humph..” Nijah gave her a thoughtful look: “I might. I still have some suits down at the back, what time is the opera start?”
“8:30. Then the gala ball is at Grosvenor House, at the Great Room, just so you know.”
“I will be there,” Nijah grinned warmly.
Bianca giggled. “Of course you will, silly! You’re costumes are there!” she tapped Nijah’s shoulders gently. “And I’m telling you, the costumes you made are absolutely wonderful!”
“I’m glad you like it, cheri.” Nijah inclined his head: “To be frank, this form is a trifle awkward to get used to. All the emotions and sensations are different.” Said the older vampire with a frown.
“I remember my time as a man. It was brief only, but I felt really weird all over. I still prefer being a woman.” she said, giggling.
“Quite,” The older vampire chuckled: “as much as I enjoy looking different for one night, I found I am quite looking forward to my old self.”
“I remember when I poofed back into my woman self again, I felt like I was coming back home!”
Today is national best friend day. Reblog if you love your best friend.
Opening Night || Open RP
Bianca was nervous in the wings of the stage. You’re a performer, for Heaven’s sake! What are you so nervous about? You’ve sung as Lauretta from Gianni Schicchi, as The Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute and so many others, why should you be nervous? Her mind exclaimed. Oh because you know, THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND NEVER WATCHED MY SHOWS UNTIL NOW. Bianca thought. She peered from the wings and saw the monarch sitting in her private box with her family around her. She absent-mindedly played with the buttons of her red costume, the one that her best friend Nijah had made. She bit her lip, and then she heard the director say to her, “Bianca, you’re on in 30 seconds. Make us proud!” he patted her on the shoulder and Bianca steadied herself. Hearing her cue from the sound effects of the bells of the factory where Carmen worked, she walked on stage seductively, her hips swaying with every step she took. She slowly forgot that she was Bianca for the time being, and that she was Carmen, the temptress and the gypsy at heart. She felt the heat of the spotlight on her skin, and she thanked the high heavens that it was bright enough to block her view of the audience, which she secretly liked because it made her feel like she was singing by herself on stage instead of 2,256 plus people. She quirked a blond brow and saw her target: Don Jose. She walked over to him, and she opened her mouth to sing the famous words of the Habanera: L’amour est un oiseau rebelle, que nul ne peut apprivoiser, et c’est bien en vain qu’on l’appelle, s’il lui convient de refuser. She then ran a finger against Don Jose’s jawline, smiling angelically at him while singing the next verses. She then does a little dance around him, her hips swaying ever so softly; it was enough to make any man surrender to her. And yet, this man didn’t. “L’un parle bien, l’autre se tait: Et c’est l’autre que je préfère, Il n’a rien dit mais il me plaît. L’amour! L’amour! L’amour! L’amour!” she sang again, pouting this time at his lack of attention to her. She dances again, weaving her way in and out of the chorus who are singing with her now. She ended her song, still not having the attention of Don Jose. She then took the flower from her bodice and tossed it to him. He looks terribly embarrassed, and while everybody laughed at him as the factory bell of where Carmen works sounded again, they leave him alone to pick up the flower. “What a witch!” he says, then the lights dim. Bianca, now in the wings, hears the applause of the audience and sighs in relief. “They like it,” she muttered to herself. “But I still have a long way to go.”
She went through the whole opera as Carmen, and she completely forgot about her nervousness at all. And as she uttered Carmen’s last words to Don Jose in song, she sung it with so much pain, as if she had really been Carmen, rejecting her love for Don Jose and searching for another better man. Then as she was held by the man who loved her and had accidentally killed her out of jealousy, Bianca, as Carmen, closed her eyes, her head going limp as if she were dead. The curtains then closed, and she stood up, hearing the cheers and the applause from the audience beyond. She stepped outside with her cast mates hand in hand, and bowed. A stagehand came up to her, handing her a bouquet of roses. She smiled brightly, then looking at the private box of the Queen, she curtsied gracefully. When she rose, she pressed her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to her daughter, then to her friends and the people who she deeply cared about who were watching. She gave one last curtsy, then went behind the red velvet curtain.
She walked to her dressing room, passing people who congratulated her on her performance. She smiled brightly, and thanked them. Once she reached her dressing room, she quickly took off her make-up and brushed her hair then proceeded to fix her things before she headed back home to freshen up before heading to the Great Room at Grosvenor House at Park Lane for the Opening Night Gala ball.
The Countess let her gaze move from one human to another, stopping the urge to sneer and hiss at the foul stench permeating around her body. She loathed to be among humans who believed themselves to be above mortality and to be of her kind. Even worse, to see women wear provocative clothing one would see of women who sold their flesh or danced on the laps of gentlemen. What sort of woman would wear such a high slit in a gown to an opera?! The urge to take the woman and slice her throat in the same manner the slice of her dress left for all eyes to gaze upon. Yet, she would not do such an act on Bianca’s night. No, The Countess would reign in her disgust at the humans and the hunger to remove them from this world, by turning her mind away from the deplorable humans and enter into her private box number 5.
Such an appropriate box to have to herself, the guards at her sides keeping watch, even as she waited for Bianca to move on stage. Her eyes, took stock of where the Queen of England would be, knowing the old woman would be surrounded by guards. A woman like her would benefit to have a singing creature like Bianca on stage. When the curtains were raise, The Countess turned her attentions back towards the cast of characters, but she searched for Bianca. Bianca, her consort, and dear ally, one whom she had never expected to meet nor to greet upon. Their personas would have clashed, but there was something about the young woman. She did not care about her background and knew she kept others in company, but she knew there was an allegiance towards the adopted daughter.
A daughter she now held in her embrace, cooing at the young child, dressed to a finery and looking at the stage. While the child might be too young to know what here surroundings were, The Countess whispered her mother was now on stage. A mother who moved about and sang to what she presumed entranced all within the opera house. The Countess watched Bianca move towards Don Jose, she clapped with the young babe to see the woman on stage pour her long faded heart to the human world. Such a world which would know there were creatures of the night who could play the roles of human quite well. A role, The Countess watched Bianca play throughout the scenes on stage. “Your mother will become a star in her own right,” she whispered to the babe, given the gracious opportunity to look after the young babe. She had inquired of where the child would be and The Countess took it upon herself to look after the young one.
A young one who cooed and laughed at the performers, but seemed to keep a rapt attention on her mother. The Countess made quick work to see Bianca move about and sing her despair to be murdered as Carmen. She knew it was a fictional character, but if Bianca were ever to fall to such a fate, there would be blood to spill the walls of this opulent opera house. When the curtains finally came down, The Countess threw her own roses towards the stage and winked at the little child who wanted to play with the flowers. “You will play with many more, come, we must see to your mother and then to the Queen. She and I have much to talk since our last conversation fifty years ago,” she explained, bringing the child into her arms before she exited, once more fighting the urge to murder, but kept sane by the performance and the young human in her arms.
Bianca, now dressed in her simple little black dress and matching heels, made her way to the Countess who was holding her daughter. “I hope she wasn’t naughty.” she said. “How was I? Was I okay? I didn’t make a cake out of myself?” she asked, biting her lip. “And Her Majesty? Did she look like she enjoyed it?” she asked again. “Oh forgive me, I mean, this is the first time a monarch has ever watched me!”
Anonymous asked: “Nijah! Oh wait, I’m sorry, I must have entered the wrong shop.” Bianca said, and slowly walked towards the door.
“It’s me, Bianca.” Nijah winked as he watched his friend blushed with embarrassment: “The grey face anon finally got me. Had to be in male form for one night.”
“Oh.” she said. “Well, you look handsome as a man, I must say.” she said, and gave her friend a hug. “Are you going to the opening night as a man? It is tonight, you know.”
“Humph..” Nijah gave her a thoughtful look: “I might. I still have some suits down at the back, what time is the opera start?”
“8:30. Then the gala ball is at Grosvenor House, at the Great Room, just so you know.”
“I will be there,” Nijah grinned warmly.
Bianca giggled. “Of course you will, silly! You’re costumes are there!” she tapped Nijah’s shoulders gently. “And I’m telling you, the costumes you made are absolutely wonderful!”
“I’m glad you like it, cheri.” Nijah inclined his head: “To be frank, this form is a trifle awkward to get used to. All the emotions and sensations are different.” Said the older vampire with a frown.
“I remember my time as a man. It was brief only, but I felt really weird all over. I still prefer being a woman.” she said, giggling.
What To Wear For The Opera?
To mind, she put the name of the room and the location, knowing she would be taken by a driver to the location. “What time shall be appropriate to see you, Bianca? It will be a night to remember,” she whispered, standing up to take another look around. “You have become a valuable consort, Bianca.”
“I will be coming back here to freshen up before the gala night. I will see you at Grosvenor House instead, dearest. And thank you, it is a great honor to be your consort.” she said, and nodded her head solemnly and smiled at her.
Leaning forward, she went over to kiss Bianca on both sides of her cheeks. “I shall you on your night. I must take flight for I have to deal with female Skia. Yes, he is safe, Bianca, before you ask anything and I will tell you all,” she replied, giving her a knowing look.
Bianca nodded. “Alright. Take care. And say hi to Skia for me.” she said, kissing the Countess cheeks.
Opening Night || Open RP
Bianca was nervous in the wings of the stage. You’re a performer, for Heaven’s sake! What are you so nervous about? You’ve sung as Lauretta from Gianni Schicchi, as The Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute and so many others, why should you be nervous? Her mind exclaimed. Oh because you know, THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND NEVER WATCHED MY SHOWS UNTIL NOW. Bianca thought. She peered from the wings and saw the monarch sitting in her private box with her family around her. She absent-mindedly played with the buttons of her red costume, the one that her best friend Nijah had made. She bit her lip, and then she heard the director say to her, “Bianca, you’re on in 30 seconds. Make us proud!” he patted her on the shoulder and Bianca steadied herself. Hearing her cue from the sound effects of the bells of the factory where Carmen worked, she walked on stage seductively, her hips swaying with every step she took. She slowly forgot that she was Bianca for the time being, and that she was Carmen, the temptress and the gypsy at heart. She felt the heat of the spotlight on her skin, and she thanked the high heavens that it was bright enough to block her view of the audience, which she secretly liked because it made her feel like she was singing by herself on stage instead of 2,256 plus people. She quirked a blond brow and saw her target: Don Jose. She walked over to him, and she opened her mouth to sing the famous words of the Habanera: L’amour est un oiseau rebelle, que nul ne peut apprivoiser, et c’est bien en vain qu’on l’appelle, s’il lui convient de refuser. She then ran a finger against Don Jose’s jawline, smiling angelically at him while singing the next verses. She then does a little dance around him, her hips swaying ever so softly; it was enough to make any man surrender to her. And yet, this man didn’t. “L’un parle bien, l’autre se tait: Et c’est l’autre que je préfère, Il n’a rien dit mais il me plaît. L’amour! L’amour! L’amour! L’amour!” she sang again, pouting this time at his lack of attention to her. She dances again, weaving her way in and out of the chorus who are singing with her now. She ended her song, still not having the attention of Don Jose. She then took the flower from her bodice and tossed it to him. He looks terribly embarrassed, and while everybody laughed at him as the factory bell of where Carmen works sounded again, they leave him alone to pick up the flower. “What a witch!” he says, then the lights dim. Bianca, now in the wings, hears the applause of the audience and sighs in relief. “They like it,” she muttered to herself. “But I still have a long way to go.”
She went through the whole opera as Carmen, and she completely forgot about her nervousness at all. And as she uttered Carmen’s last words to Don Jose in song, she sung it with so much pain, as if she had really been Carmen, rejecting her love for Don Jose and searching for another better man. Then as she was held by the man who loved her and had accidentally killed her out of jealousy, Bianca, as Carmen, closed her eyes, her head going limp as if she were dead. The curtains then closed, and she stood up, hearing the cheers and the applause from the audience beyond. She stepped outside with her cast mates hand in hand, and bowed. A stagehand came up to her, handing her a bouquet of roses. She smiled brightly, then looking at the private box of the Queen, she curtsied gracefully. When she rose, she pressed her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to her daughter, then to her friends and the people who she deeply cared about who were watching. She gave one last curtsy, then went behind the red velvet curtain.
She walked to her dressing room, passing people who congratulated her on her performance. She smiled brightly, and thanked them. Once she reached her dressing room, she quickly took off her make-up and brushed her hair then proceeded to fix her things before she headed back home to freshen up before heading to the Great Room at Grosvenor House at Park Lane for the Opening Night Gala ball.
Ascolta
I need to vocalize before the opera starts.
