Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"

Автор книги: Susann Julieva

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I’ve had a few drinks, put a call in to Marc to meet him later, and I’m on my way to see the posting of

the parts for Hamlet.

I’m in a pretty good mood now, and who should be walking towards me but Rizzo. He’s talking to

someone I don’t know, smiling and laughing. As he gets closer, he looks over at me. No, that’s not

right… he looks through me. Like I’m not even there.

“Hey,” I say to him. Nothing too much. Like I would to anyone I knew. But there’s nothing from

him. Not a smile, not a wink. Not one goddamn flicker of one perfect eyelash.

What the hell?

I turn and watch him walk away from me now, my stomach trying to claw its way out of my body

and follow after him. I don’t understand what all that was about. Did I do something to piss him off? I

can’t remember anything…

The last thing I remember is our little “practice session” for my callback audition. And he definitely

wasn’t angry with me then. I saw him after the auditions, hanging around outside the theater and talking

with some of the other drama kids he knows. But he wasn’t angry then either. He even told me I had a

good audition. So what’s with the silent treatment now?

I’m totally confused, but I can hear the group of people ahead talking as they wait for the cast list to

be posted. It suddenly goes up a notch, and I know the list is there.

Do I go after Rizzo, try to find out what his problem is? Or do I go look at the cast list? It shouldn’t

be that hard of a choice, right? Rizzo’s just one person – acting is more important than one person.

So why is it so hard for me to turn and go toward the group of excited voices?

This thing with Rizzo will have to wait. I’ll go find him later. Right now, I have a part to go claim.

* * *

I blink again, but the words on the paper don’t change. Nick Keller. Marcellus.

I’ve been here so long that everyone else has gone now, and it’s just me and this damn piece of paper

taped to the wall. And those stupid damn words that aren’t supposed to be there.

Marcellus! This has to be a mistake. I owned that audition, I know I did. And for me to have had that

good of an audition and get Marcellus? Obviously a mistake!

Stupid shitty part. I could do this part drunk and high and it wouldn’t make any difference at all. It

doesn’t require anything from the actor. Come on, say a few stupid-ass lines, then dick around

backstage for the rest of the show.

Blink.

Nick Keller. Marcellus.

“Nick?” The voice is quiet, trained, and familiar. I finally turn away from that unchanging piece of

paper and look at my traitor of a director. He doesn’t say anything else, and when I figure out that he’s

waiting for me to say something, the words are dragged from my throat without me even thinking about

them.

“Marcellus, Jeff? Why? My audition was better than that and we both know it.” He opens his mouth

to respond, but I cut him off. “You can’t deny it, Jeff! I was better than that. I am better than that!” I’m

yelling, but I can’t stop myself. I have to make him see. I can’t do this part. No one goes to Hamlet to

see Marcellus. I’ll get stuck in the back and no one will see me at all. “Jeff, please! You have to give me

a better part! This isn’t supposed to be my part!”

I can feel myself beginning to panic, but the only thing I see in Jeff’s eyes is pity. And it stops me in

my tracks. He’s not going to give me a different part. All my arguments are gone, and all that’s left is

one question.

“Why? After that audition, why?” I choke the words past everything I’m feeling, but all I get is more

pity from Jeff.

“It’s not always all about the audition, Nick. I told you that you needed to clean yourself up. And

you haven’t. We can’t afford a liability like that on this show, Nick. You know how big this is. For

everyone. We can’t have you playing with that shit while you’re carrying a main part.” He looks at me

closely and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Nick.”

And he walks away. Leaves me standing there.

* * *

Alcohol, drugs, and people. Maybe something will help take my mind off of all this shit. I’m at some

Halloween party that claims to be the biggest on campus. They’re probably right, too. There’s so many

people here, most of them in costume, and all I can hope is that this will help fix my shitty day.

After I’d managed to finally leave the drama department after Jeff and I had our tender little

moment, I found Marc and told him what a messed up day I was having. I started to, at least, before he

said that he wasn’t my therapist or my friend, and that he didn’t want to hear my bitching. But he gave

me a little something extra for my cash, so now I’m flying high and ready for this party. Screw what Jeff

says, I can do what I want.

What I want right now is to forget everything that’s gone wrong today. Which is hard to do since

Rizzo’s here. Of course. I wasn’t able to find him earlier in the day when I was looking for him, but I

knew the instant he walked in. It’s like a shift in the air, a change in the tone of people’s conversations,

the way the hair on my arms stands on end. All because of him.

And he knows it. God, look at him standing there all in black with a scarf over his hair, and I don’t

know if it’s an actual costume (it has to be, because he has a sword), but I don’t care, because he makes

it look so damn good. I can almost ignore the fact that he’s talking to that ass he’s always around and

hasn’t even looked my way.

Just like earlier today.

Fine, I can play that game too. I can find someone to go home with tonight.

But of course that doesn’t even work tonight. Instead, I have to deal with Mister-“I’m better than

you and Rizzo likes me more and are you going to hit me now?”-Asshole.

And god, I do want to hit him. I want to swing my fist and feel it connect with his face and see pain

in those endless blue eyes of his and see blood on those damn distracting lips. But I can’t, now, can I?

Not after he’s said that loud enough for everyone watching to hear. And not with the way the room is

slowly spinning around me…

And then there’s someone pulling me away, some girl I don’t know, and people are laughing, and

I’m being shoved out of the room. And I want to go back in there and hurt him as much as I can. Maybe

find Rizzo and hurt him too – maybe because I hate him right now, and maybe because I just want to

feel his body against mine.

But I don’t do that. I don’t do any of it. I leave the party instead.

I don’t go far… I’m surprised I make it as far as I do – into the park. But when I start tripping more

than walking, I figure it’s time for me to stop for a while.

I’m still in sight of the house, I can see the squares of the windows, the shadows of people walking

in front of them. They all look like they’re vibrating, but maybe it’s just me that’s vibrating.

Or shivering.

I’m freezing my ass off out here, alone in the park, because as I was walking out the door, I couldn’t

remember if I brought a coat to the party, much less where it might have been. So I’m out here, wearing

nothing but my shirt, and is this shirt even mine? I don’t think I even own anything this color.

All I want right now is to go home so I can go to sleep and this whole day can be over, but I still

can’t get my legs to work. So I just stand here, lean against this huge tree, and watch and listen to the

party going on without me.

I watch as two people rush out into the cold, looking as desperate to leave the party as I was – but for

a completely different reason.

They’re pressed so close together that I doubt even this cold can get between them. And this is just

perfect, isn’t it? Because that’s Rizzo. And him… whatever his name is, I don’t even know. And he

called me Rizzo’s lap dog, but look at him out here pressed up against Rizzo. He’s just where I want to,

need to be. And they’re – damn – they’re kissing. And moving against each other. And so hot.

Rizzo’s hands are curving around arms, ribs, hips, holding tightly, soothingly, tipping a chin back for

a closer kiss. Someone’s shirt rides up, and the quick flash of pale skin shining in the moonlight is just

too much for me to handle.

I tip my head back against the tree at the perfect angle so that I can rest it there and still watch them.

My hands slide inside my shirt, inside my boxers, and I can’t help it, can I? Because they’re amazing

standing there like that. And it’s so painful, but it’s so damn good.

And maybe I drank a little too much or took a few too many pills tonight, because it’s not a normal

thing to be watching the guy you’ve been sleeping with as he’s kissing some other guy. And it’s

definitely not normal to be getting off on it.

Just the thought is dirty enough to send a guilty pressure along my spine, and it makes me curl my

cold, numb fingers around myself in my boxers. It’s so messed up for me to be doing this, but I start to

match them, moving my hand at the same pace they’re moving against each other. I want to close my

eyes and imagine it’s Rizzo’s fingers moving around me, but I can’t tear my gaze away. It’s all too

much, the cold, the thoughts, the images of them, and as I see the guy’s legs give out, I feel mine do the

same. Only Rizzo isn’t there to wrap his arms around me like he’s doing for the guy clinging to him.

Instead, I get the rough bark of the tree catching my shirt and scraping my back raw as I slide down to

the ground.

They’re standing there, breathing, outlined in the moonlight, and Rizzo still has his arms wrapped

around that asshole. They’re holding on to each other like there isn’t anyone else around. Like I’m not

even there.

I might as well not be. I could walk over there right now, and I still wouldn’t be there. Not where it

counts. I’m on the outside, and there’s no one here to wrap their arms around me. Rizzo sure as hell

isn’t. And as I watch them kiss again, I know that Rizzo never will be.

I’m still sitting there after they finally leave, the snow falling on me now. I watch a flake land on my

hand and it doesn’t melt until I raise my shaky arm and blow a hot breath on it. A far-off corner of my

brain tells me I should get inside, and I almost (almost) wonder why I should bother. I wonder how long

it would take for someone to come looking for me if I just stayed here and let the snow fall on me.

But I pull myself back up against the tree, thinking that my back is going to look spectacular in the

morning, and I get my sorry ass home. Alone.

Chapter 11

Tabula Rasa

JAMES: You can’t choose who you fall in love with, or when. I realize this when Danny tears open the

door to my room on Thursday afternoon, and his beaming presence immediately lights up my four

gloomy walls like it’s the coming of the freaking Fairy Godmother.

“You genius!” He laughs and pulls me into an exuberant hug. His dark eyes are sparkling when he

lets me go to look at me. “Man! You’re going to Berlin!”

I can’t help but laugh as well. His joy is infectious. He‘s infectious. “I know. They told me this

morning.”

“And I have to wait to hear this from somebody else? Son of a bitch!”

I shrug and grin. “I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or not.”

“Are you crazy? It’s your dream!”

“What’s this all about?”

Casey’s standing in the open door, watching the scene with a small, confused smile.

“Hey, Rizzo,” his voice is softer than it used to be when he was talking to him. Danny barely

acknowledges his presence with the smallest of nods. The clear blue eyes seem to darken as Casey

looks from him to me and back.

Steve from two doors down has also stopped on his way past my room and is gawping at us

curiously. “Yeah, man, what’s the buzz?”

“None of your business,” Danny replies calmly but sharply, and poor Steve is quick to hurry on, like

a wet dog drawing in his tail.

Then Danny puts his arm around my shoulder and finally looks Casey in the face, an undoubtedly

sly smile on his lips. “Your brilliant boyfriend got himself the Berlin scholarship.”

Casey just stands still and stares, the complete and utter surprise visible on his face. Oh damn. Guess

we can safely say that the cat’s out of the bag. Why did he tell him? This was my job. A job I

completely suck at, admittedly. I throw Danny a dark glance that he shrugs off with an amused grin.

Yeah, okay, so it’s my own fault. And yeah, sometimes I need you to kick my sorry ass. But you know

nothing about how fragile relationships can be. Or perhaps you do, and you just love to hurt him. But

hurting Casey is the same as hurting me, won’t you ever understand?

I think I notice a trace of cruelty and a silent challenge in the unfathomable eyes looking back at me.

Like Danny’s silently telling me, “Go ahead, James. Push me a little further. I’ve come this far with you,

and this close to you. I’m not moving back an inch.”

But nobody’s moving back an inch anymore, are we? Positions have become scarily entrenched. In

this moment I realize that everything that’s been seething underneath the surface – within all three of us

– is about to reach a peak. Perhaps because we finally know what we want. I for one know that I do.

That nonchalant grin is on Danny’s lips again. “What do you say, Mills? Aren’t you damn proud?”

Slowly Casey steps into my room. He looks pale. “Is that true, James? I didn’t know you applied.”

“I was gonna tell you. But then I thought it was better to wait till I had their answer…”

“What made you think you couldn’t tell me this?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “And here comes another endless debate!” When he pulls his arm off of my

shoulder, hidden from Casey’s view he gently runs his fingertips along my back. A wave of excitement

shivers through my body. “See ya later, Jimmy Boy.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.” Casey’s voice sounds small and beaten. The way that Danny ignores him, he might as well

not be here at all. But Casey is here, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he does mind being

purposely overlooked like that.

We both watch as Danny saunters out the door, closing it behind himself, and the air in here seems

cooler now that he’s gone. Feeling strangely trapped, I get the urge to run after him. Anything to avoid

what I know is coming now. I’m not a fan of confrontations, and don’t you know it? Hell, how am I

ever gonna explain the scholarship and my hiding the application? I have no explanation, save that I’m

a pathetic loser of a chicken shit.

When Casey turns towards me again, there’s an expression on his face I’ve never seen before. I’d

almost think that he hates me right now, if I didn’t know him well enough to know that isn’t possible.

I’m gripped by a sudden fear.

“Casey, listen, I’m sorry. I was gonna tell you, I was just about to…”

“It’s not that,” he cuts me off impatiently. He closes his eyes for a moment and exhales deeply. Then

he almost seems to smile a little, bitterly. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? No…”

“No?” When he opens his eyes again, the deep blue orbs are shimmering with tears. But all the while

he appears to be strangely composed. “I went through hell because of you, James. I couldn’t bear to hurt

you.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Do you really not know?” There’s pain in his voice now. Casey sinks down on my bed like he’s in

some kind of trance. His gaze is fixed on the floor when he speaks again. “I’m in love with him too.”

* * *

Through the closed window, I can hear the distant noise of a wild snowball fight on the grounds below.

Cheering, screaming, shouting, laughing. The world outside is having a party, unaware and uncaring for

the drama unfolding inside these four walls of mine.

We’re sitting here on the bed, side by side, and the silence is thick enough to be cut into pieces. I’ve

kind of been in this situation before, haven’t I? But everything was different then. And everything’s

even more messed up now. Who’d have ever thought this would be possible?

I’m feeling utterly lost, and horribly guilty, and goddamnit, so betrayed. And I don’t know whether

to laugh or cry. All the words that I could say are frozen in my throat, and they’re choking me.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Casey finally speaks.

“I never meant to hurt you either.” That broken voice doesn’t sound like my own.

He glances at me. “Look, James,” and why does he have to be the strong one now? How can he be

so composed and so beautiful with those heartbreaking tears quietly rolling down his cheeks? “Maybe

you and I… were never meant to be together.”

“How can you say that?” I manage only a raspy whisper.

“Because we’re friends.” He reaches out to grab my hand, but I pull it away before he can. No, don’t

be kind. Don’t touch me now. But don’t you let go. Don’t say it’s over. Please don’t.

I bite down hard on my lower lip to keep the agony I’m feeling from spilling out of me. I’m such a

creep. I’m worthless. I’m nothing. I’m less than nothing. I’m not even here. There’s only blackness

ahead, and the familiar mist is coming over me. And with it, the violent need to cut. Voices, whispering

in my mind. Telling me that only the sight of my blood can save me now.

“You’re not even worth a good beating, you piece of shit, you fucking queer,” Simon grins

maliciously, and lets his threatening hand fall down. Kicks me in the guts one last time, and I know my

small, wounded whimper is music to his ears. I don’t know for how long I stay like this after he’s left, a

ball of pain, everything hurting and throbbing. I want to crawl out of my skin, that ugly old skin covered

with scars and tainted memories. I want to fly away and not be me anymore. I want to be gone.

I claw my fingernails into my legs, right through the fabric of my jeans. I feel no pain. I feel nothing.

I apply more pressure, too much pressure, and then the taste of blood is suddenly in my mouth, and I

blink slowly.

“James?” Casey strokes my cheek, then he pulls me close and holds me carefully. “It’s okay. We’re

gonna work it out,” he whispers close to my ear, and his voice is cracking a little. “I know we will. I’ll

always be your friend. I’m here for you.”

I can feel myself nodding, but it takes a moment for his words to sink in. How? I want to say. How

can we be friends now? After what I did, after how you lead me on? Were you ever really in love with

me, or did you just think you were? Did you just pretend?

But at the same time I know that he didn’t. He’s not that kind of person. He must have thought it was

real. But I’m not Danny Rizzo, I’m not the one he fell for to begin with. And if anyone knows about the

things Danny can do to you, no matter if it’s willingly or unknowingly, I do.

I think I have an epiphany, this very moment. I have no reason to feel hurt, or to be angry. I have no

reason to forgive, or be forgiven. And it’s no use blaming myself. And it’s no use trying to search for

answers. Because there are none. We can’t chose who we fall in love with, or when. Maybe it’s

nobody’s fault. Maybe these things just happen, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them. In the

end, it doesn’t make the slightest difference how much you love someone. It happens all the same.

As much as it hurts to lose what we had, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it would have done a few

weeks ago. And maybe Casey is right? Maybe we are meant to be friends. Maybe that means more than

I thought it did. And maybe, just maybe, it’s gonna be alright. If I go and make it alright.

Maybe it’s a bit late to do the right thing, but it’s not too late. It’s easy to see things from Casey’s

point of view, having been in a similar situation. How could I spend time with Danny now, knowing

how it makes Casey feel to see us together? And damn, I know exactly how shitty that feels. It’s pure

misery. How could I knowingly put him through that? I have to stand by my best friend now. There is

no other way.

I don’t know for how long we sit like this before he lets me go and looks into my eyes. “God,” he

says with a crooked little smile. “I don’t wanna lose you, you hear?” he mumbles close to my ear.

“You’re not going to.” We hold each other for a long moment before we both pull away.

“Well,” Casey sighs softly. “We can’t both have him. And he never wanted me.”

I sit up straight and shake my head. Then I lift my hand and wipe away the last one of his subsiding

tears. “Forget it. I’m not gonna do this to you anymore. I promise.”

* * *

It’s true that I suck at making decisions. But once I do make them, I stand by what I’ve decided. It

seems ironic that now that I finally know what I want, I have to let it go.

A couple of hours have passed, but so much has changed this afternoon that it seems like forever. It’s

getting dusky already. That intense, pure blue you only see just before dark that makes all the lit

windows appear bright yellow. The way to his dorm is much longer than I remember. The air is so cold

it stings like needles on my face. Wish I’d put on a scarf. It’s early November and clear that winter is

here.

I don’t really expect Danny to be home when I knock on his door, but he is. I can hear low voices

inside. It takes a whole minute before he answers. Enough time for my hands to get sweaty and my

stomach to turn into a frozen lump.

First thing I see when he opens are those beautiful laughing eyes, then his bare, drop-dead gorgeous

chest. Heat spills out into the corridor. He must have flung on his trousers in a hurry. His broad smile is

mirroring happy surprise.

“James!” He elegantly steps outside through the crack, managing to not even give me a glimpse of

who’s still inside, before the door snaps shut with a soft click.

“You’re not alone,” I state flatly.

He shrugs with a charming grin. “Want to come in? He’ll be gone in a minute.”

“No, don’t bother. I’ll be quick.”

“Don’t be,” he says, and moves closer to me.

Oh boy. How am I ever gonna be able to do this? “I need to talk to you.”

“It just so happens that I need to talk to you too, Jimmy Boy.” That small smile on his lips is

irresistible, even more so when I notice the tiniest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. Heart’s beating

madly. Danny Rizzo nervous? What does this mean? There’s something in his dark orbs that seems to

be speaking to me already, a kind of warmth that makes me feel hot all over and chases the chilly air

still clinging to me away. I fight hard to not let it get to me and keep up my indifferent facade.

“About what?”

“About you and me.”

Oh damn. “I’m here for that too.”

“Fire away, I’m all yours.”

Oh god and hell. I cannot do it. I can’t. But I have to. I can’t be weak. I can’t mess this up.

Of all the things that Simon taught me, one thing has enabled me, and will always enable me to get

through anything. And for that I owe the bastard. It’s like a switch that I flick, and it turns off any kind

of feelings. At all. I go completely blank on the emotional scale, and my rational side takes over

completely. I flick this switch now, and seconds later I am ice.

Danny seems to sense this change immediately, because his smile fades, and his expression turns

uncharacteristically serious. I know he’s as ready as he’ll ever be to hear what I have to say, and so I

speak. “I can’t go on seeing you anymore. This thing between you and me, it has to end.”

He blinks slowly, and his usually pleasantly soft voice sounds a little hoarse. “What?”

“Whatever this was, it’s over. That’s all I have to say.”

“What kind of crap is this?” He laughs unbelievingly, and just shakes his head.

“You want an explanation? There is none. None that you’d accept anyway.”

“You’re damn right!” He stares at me, trying to read me, but I know that in my current state, it’s

simply not possible. And I’m thankful for that.

My apparent cold seems to finally fully hit him now, and his eyes turn dark with defiance and hurt.

“This is bullshit! Is this Mills’ doing?”

“It’s my own decision. You heard what I said, Rizzo.”

“Rizzo!” He laughs, but it sounds painful. “What’s going on, James? Why are you doing this?”

“I’m gonna leave now,” is all that I can answer.

“No!” His eyes are the most intense plea and his voice is soft again when he continues to speak.

“No, James. Not like that. Talk to me.”

Again, I just shake my head.

“Talk to me.”

I feel the pull of my emotions wanting to spring back to life, but I can’t allow them. And there really

is nothing else to say. “Just let me go, Rizzo.”

“Not without a very good reason.”

He puts his hand on my arm, and that’s just too much for me to bear. It’s more instinct than

conscious will, but I slap his hand off, perhaps harder than I meant to. My eyes are completely empty

when I stare at him. They have to be.

“Don’t touch me. Ever again. Stay out of my life.”

But I can’t turn away yet. I take in his handsome features one last time. To memorize him. To

memorize the way he is when we’re together. He’s beautiful. He’ll always be beautiful to me. And

maybe some day, I’ll be able to let him know. But not now, not for a very long time. And perhaps never.

Then I turn around and walk away, and he doesn’t try to stop me anymore. I can feel him staring at

my back for another long moment, then his door is opened, and I can hear his voice talking to someone.

It’s the coldest and most painful thing I’ve ever heard. Short, strict, devoid of all feeling.

“Out. Get out.”

My turning round the corner and heading down the steps is the parting of our ways. As far as I’m

concerned, from this moment on we’ll be strangers, he and I. That’s when the switch flicks back on its

own account, and the feelings spring back to life.

Standing very still, I try to breathe, but I can’t. The pain starting to flood me is too intense.

I’m vaguely aware of hurried footsteps coming towards me, then someone deliberately bumps into

me, walking down the steps. He stops and briefly turns around, with blue eyes spitting fire. Goth Boy. I

might have known it was him in Rizzo’s room.

“What’ve you done now, you fucker?” he spits at me.

My eyes are still empty as I stare back at him. “Just grow up, kid” I hear myself answer tonelessly.

Maybe the emotional void I still am for the most part spooks him somehow, I don’t know. But he

hurries on without another word, without looking back again.

I let the cold hit me when I step outside into a world of blue. The first stars are appearing in the

darkening sky. There’s nobody on the snow covered, winding path except for me. Even Goth Boy has

vanished like a ghost.

It’s done. I just told Danny that it’s over. Press reset, and it’s like we never knew each other at all.

Tabula rasa. I’m on my own again. Casey and I’ve broken up. We’re back to being friends, or at least

back to trying to be friends once more. Casey’s still Casey, Rizzo’s still Rizzo, and I’m still the same old

Jimmy Foley, whoever that is. We’re all back to square one. Almost. But there were special moments,

there was someone who made me feel like it was okay just to be me. There was pain, and there was

beauty, and damnit, there was sex good enough to blow your mind for good. It wasn’t all for nothing.

Rizzo left his mark on me. I wonder, did I leave a mark on him as well? And if so, is he going to hate or

cherish that mark?

I’m feeling so much older as night falls silently around me. I wonder where the decision I made is

gonna lead me. And what he’s doing now, but I quickly chase the thought away. If I can’t forget, I’ll

force myself to. And if I can’t stop feeling for him, I’ll make myself feel nothing at all. And if I hurt

him, I am sorry. For once in my life, I have to be a true friend. I have to do what is right.

Chapter 12

Avalanche

NICK: Rehearsal’s a joke. This whole play is a joke. And me? I’m a joke in it. With this shitty little

part. At the back of the stage, where no one can see me at all. I’m meant to be up front, in the spotlight

with the lead actors. But instead I’m stuck back here, where no one sees me, and no one pays attention

to me, not even when I say my lines. They all look bored during my scenes, and I don’t blame them. I’m

bored too.

Because rehearsal isn’t the escape it’s supposed to be. Every time I walk through the doors, I can feel

Jeff’s eyes on me. Watching me, studying me, like he’s looking for something specific. It makes me

want to itch at my skin, because it’s constant. I can feel it on me, and I can’t get rid of it.

What makes things even worse is that he’s the only one looking at me. Rizzo’s barely even glanced

my direction in days. Ever since he kicked me out of his room. I don’t know what the hell that stupid

asshole said to Rizzo, but I’d love to kick his face in. But I haven’t even seen him since that day in the

hall.

I’ve been calling Marc every few days now, spending a ton of money, just to make it through. I’ve

pretty much quit going to classes, but I still come to every rehearsal. I can’t let it go, even if it is a shitty

little part. Sometimes, when I stop to think about it, I think it might be all that’s keeping me alive.

* * *

Hot lights, a kickass costume, heavy makeup on my face, and I’m someone completely different. It’s my

first time on stage, and everyone’s attention is on me. This is the easiest thing to do, and the best feeling

in the world. I could do this forever.

The girl across the stage from me is usually one of those stuck up theater whores that I’ve had to

deal with for the past few months. She was rude to me in rehearsal, ignored me in the hallways at

school, but she’s someone different now too. She’s in love with me, and I’m in love with her, and

everyone is in love with us. I think I might like to sleep with her after the show. And I’m pretty sure

she’ll let me.

* * *

It takes three people saying my name before I realize that I’ve completely missed a line. I don’t even

know what I was thinking about, but almost everyone’s turned to stare in my direction: angry, annoyed,

bored. Jeff’s stare cuts through from the audience seats, pinning me to the stage. In his eyes, there’s

something else. There’s that pity again.

I manage to choke out the line I missed (after a prompt from the girl that’s sitting in the front row,

feeding us lines), and the rehearsal goes on. But I can still feel Jeff’s eyes.

* * *

“I saw you doing some work in class. You’re good. I’m directing a show later this semester called