Éternelle

A shining stage, masked actors, and a perfect role. But as the curtain rises, Gaston realizes that some encores never end… and some stages are impossible to leave. 

Four blocks away from a bustling street in Montmartre was an old apartment. In unit 602, were stacks of crumbled playbills, pieces of old props, and walls filled with the posters of the great, once legendary actor, Gaston Blanchard. He lived right above a forgotten shoe store, on a street that almost no one knew of. Gaston’s day was full of shadows and echoes- grieving memories of applause, lights, and recognition. 

Each morning, at exactly 8 o’clock, Gaston put on the same full length coat he wore every day. He stood in front of a dusty mirror, reciting monologues to an imaginary audience. He only longed to be recognized again, perhaps for an opportunity to perform once more, something more than hallucination.

It arrived on Wednesday. A mysterious letter appeared in Gaston’s mailbox. No return address or additional information, just his name in messy script writing. And a piece of paper, which said

“Théâtre Éternelle,” repeated Gaston. 

A theatre that Gaston has never heard of, which was a very rare case. Blanchard was not only a great actor himself, but a master in the art of theater. He knew almost every character and play to have ever existed, including theatres around the world. 

Hesitant and nervous, but full of curiosity, Gaston arrived at Théâtre Éternelle by noon the next day.  He followed the address on the letter, slowly walking towards his dream again. Of course, he wore his full-length coat, it was the costume of his last show. 

A couple minutes later, he was there. As soon as Gaston entered, lights burst out of the big red door. On the beautiful stage in front of him, was a tall, mysterious figure. 

“Ah, there you are! Gaston Blanchard is it?” it said. 

“Yes ma’am, and pardon me but you are?” Blanchard asked.

“You can call me Madame Celeste. Now let’s get to work, we’ve wasted enough time on introductions already,” Madame Celeste said as she clapped her hands twice. 

Suddenly, what seemed to be like the rest of the cast for the show appeared onstage. However, there was something very odd about them all.

Each and everyone onstage had a mask covering their whole face. Some looked like faces of animals, others ghosts, or non-existent creatures. 

“These are your ensemble members. You will play Valentin, a powerful man who once used to be the greatest playwrights of all time. His work was recognized globally, internationally, until the world moved on. He went from world famous to an unknown shadow in a couple days. It was until he was offered the most glorious opportunity. Valentin was able to rise to his old reputation again. He felt alive and noticed. A wonderful story of an inspiring man. Don’t you think?” Madame Celeste finished proudly. 

“That’s wonderful. But, it sounds a lot like me?” Blanchard hesitantly asked. 

“Sure it is! Gaston, you are going to play the main character of the show dedicated to your experience. This is a precious opportunity I have provided you. Each and every line can bring you a step closer to where you were. By the end of the show, your life could be changed. I just need you to agree that you will commit to the rehearsals, give a spectacular performance, then I will give you your desired fame and recognition once more. Agreed?” asked Madame Celeste. 

“Yes ma’am. I will do anything for my audience and to regain my legacy once more,” Blanchard answered, immediately. 

And so the process started. Gaston attended rehearsals every day, and practiced his lines day and night. This theatre seemed nothing more than a perfect dream. A special ensemble just for him, a show dedicated to his personal story. He could already feel moments of happiness again. The golden times are back, he thought, when he was the subject of billboards and the talk of the town. 

Around a month and a half later, it was finally show time. Gaston, of course, was more prepared than he could have ever been. Going into his first show in years, he had prepared himself for any situation. There was no room for error, and Blanchard was confident to deliver nothing less than perfection that night. 

As Blanchard prepared for the first act in the dressing rooms, his excitement only grew. In a couple hours, he would leave the theater as a legend once again. Crowds gathering in front of the doors, cheering. Then after that, life would be normal again. 

He jumped for happiness when Madame Celeste began her speech before the show started.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” started Madame Celeste as Gaston took his spot backstage. 

“Thank you for coming to the opening night of our new spectacular project starring Gaston Blanchard. Our ensemble has worked very hard to deliver a strong message about perseverance and resilience through the art of theater.” 

“15 seconds until your cue sir,” the stage staff whispered to Blanchard. 

 “We are so glad to have you here at Théâtre Éternelle.”

“10 seconds.”

Blanchard nervously fixed his coat, and adjusted his hat. 

Madame Celeste raised her voice saying, “and without further ado, I present to you, “Shadow, Nevermore”!” 

The curtains opened up and Blanchard ran into the set of fake buildings. For the first time in decades, he felt alive again. The warm stage lights blinding his eyes, hearing the dramatic music being created right below him. 

Being onstage had never felt so welcoming for Blanchard. It wasn’t awkward to be standing in front of the crowd again, or scary to be performing the main role in a huge theatre. 

“I’m back,” Blanchard thought to himself as he continued through all his lines, dances, songs, and tricks. 

The show was something Blanchard would describe as suspiciously perfect.

Every single note and move was executed flawlessly, each word was clearly delivered to the audience, the stage sets were perfect, and absolutely no costume malfunctions.

Blanchard was obviously confident going into the show, but this kind of perfection felt slightly odd to him. 

Feeling a mix of confusion and joy at the same time, Blanchard walked out of the dressing room with his belongings, ready to meet his wonderful audience. 

When he was on his way to the crowd, Gaston unexpectedly bumped into Madame Celeste. However, something too was also odd about her. She had sort of what seemed like an evil grin on her face. And she held a small, glowing device in her hand.

“Oh! Madame! I didn’t expect to run into you right after the final bow. What’d you think?” Gaston asked.

“Gaston Blanchard, you surely are a legend. Your performance tonight was spectacular, perfection in its best form. It was powerful, yet full of intention. It hasn’t been this way in a long while,” Madame Celeste said.

“Thank you, I knew I still had it in me,” Blanchard responded, proudly. 

She continued in a velvet like voice, “Blanchard, you have more than just ‘it’. Tonight, you proved something that takes other performers years to find, and sometimes never. The heart and soul for the stage.”

She slowly raised the small shining device above both of them. 

“And for such a special soul like yours, there is only one place to belong,” Madame Celeste said as Gaston’s smile dropped. 

“Théâtre Éternelle will be your home. You belong here. It offers something much greater than fading fame. Gaston, your legacy will be preserved here. Show after show, eternally. You will never grow old, you will never be forgotten. You will always be performing, night after night.”

“Forever? I never agreed to that,” Blanchard said back, confused.

“Oh yes you did, darling. Every show will come to an end, and so will every career. But my dear, you wanted a forever lasting experience. That’s what I have granted you. Eternal fame, forever.”

Madame Celeste entered a dial on the small, golden device. Then the curtains rose again, just like it did before the first act, the lights turned on, and the endless clapping began. 

“Gaston Blanchard, the outside world has already moved on, but in Théâtre Éternelle, you will forever move them, eternally.”