To the Moon and Back

by Melissa Brayden

  Ethan snapped his fingers and pointed at Trip. “Thank you. That’s what I’m talking about, too.”

  “Ethan, I’d be happy to keep running lines with Carly.”

  “Can we do some right now?” He looked at his watch. “I know we’re off the clock and rehearsal is officially over, but if you’ll show me the final scene of act one, I can know more.” He ran his hand over his scruff as he waited for her answer.

  Technically, according to Equity rules, rehearsal was over, and asking Carly to work longer went against good standards and practices. She couldn’t do it. Lauren opened her mouth to advocate for Carly, when Carly herself turned from across the room. She’d been engrossed in her phone and had seemed to be out of earshot. Apparently, that had not been the case.

  “I’m happy to run the scene, Lauren.”

  Lauren stared at her, and then back at Ethan, running out of options. “The last scene?” she asked.

  “If you don’t mind, that is. I don’t want to put you on the spot if you’re uncomfortable in any way,” Ethan said, more gently.

  It was a big scene, the happily-ever-after fake out that got ripped away from the audience after intermission. There was a kiss in that scene, a pretty serious one. She closed her eyes and did her utmost to appear unaffected. She was a professional, and she could do this. It was for the good of the show. “I don’t mind,” she said, retrieving her script.

  She joined Carly onstage.

  “You good?” Carly asked and gave her hand a squeeze. That did it. The nervous energy, the self-doubt, the overthinking all seemed to slide away with that one moment of contact.

  “I’m great. Shall we?”

  Carly nodded.

  “So, we’re doing this?” Lauren asked, as Mandy. She went for timid, excited, and fully in love.

  Carly stepped into her space, hands at her side, confidence on full display. “Do you know what you’d be getting into? I let teakettles whistle too long on the stove. I scream when spiders show up.” Her proximity alone sent a series of tingles across Lauren’s skin. She didn’t try to move herself out of it, however. She put it into what the character would feel. “I know I’m not the easiest person to love. I’m pretty sure I just lost my job, and my cat moved out. I’ll probably be homeless myself in a matter of—”

  “Ashley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re talking a lot.”

  Carly grinned and cradled Lauren’s face with one hand. “Should I stop now?”

  “You should definitely stop,” Lauren said. “I have a lot of things to figure out, but one of them is definitely not you. You’re staying.”

  Just as the script dictated, Carly brought her lips to Lauren’s and kissed her with determination, and tenderness, and love. Lauren’s entire body went instantly warm, and she had to steady herself or her knees would give out. What was abundantly clear was that they kissed really well together, the perfect amount of give and take. Lauren’s limbs felt like Jell-O when she pulled her lips from Carly’s. She opened her eyes slowly and smiled. Just another day at work, right? She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t for the life of her remember her next line. That’s because she was supposed to be reading from the script. “Oh, um, one moment,” she said, flipping the page, her cheeks on fire with embarrassment.

  Before the scene could continue, Ethan’s voice cut them off. “I think we can stop there. I’m going to chat with Wilks about the future of the production. I want to thank you both for such a committed rehearsal.” Ethan didn’t dwell or stick around for chitchat. He left notes for Trip about the breakdown for the following day and was out of there.

  “You did great,” Carly said quietly in Lauren’s ear. She kissed her cheek quickly and gave her some space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Lauren nodded, still in a haze of what the hell was happening. She turned to Trip, who sat behind the table, arms folded with a big old grin on his face.

  “Little Lala,” he said. “Who knew?”

  She stalked back to the table, disconcerted, excited, and turned the hell on.

  Chapter Six

  Lauren sat in one of her favorite spots in all of The McAllister, the long hallway off the grand lobby. At the end stood Wilks’s office, but along the way were framed photographs of some of the most noteworthy shows put on by the theater. The faces of Broadway legends dotted the walls, just a sampling of the many great actors who’d performed at The McAllister, the theater Lauren now inhabited on a daily basis. She carried such reverence for the place and sometimes had to pinch herself to remember that she acCtually worked here. Oh, and down the hallway a little way, they’d even added a framed shot of one of their most recent shows. Yep, that was Gyllenhaal she saw in a serious moment from a new play that had been very well received.

  “Ready for you, Lauren,” Wilks said, opening the door. He did a little ballerina twirl as she passed in attempt to lighten the mood.

  She chucked. “Nice one.”

  “I’ll spare you my twerk.”

  “And now I’m sad.”

  It wasn’t very often that they met in his office. Their working relationship had always been more informal, with him crashing her space as they quickly hashed out daily details like scheduling, budget, or interpersonal matters. The more official meeting in his rarely visited office intimidated Lauren, which was downright ridiculous. This was Wilks! Her Wilks. That reminder didn’t calm her churning stomach, though the twirl had helped.

  Once inside, Lauren took a seat. As he walked around to his side of the desk, she nervously grabbed the Rubik’s Cube in front of her. “Mastered this one yet?” she asked. He grabbed the cube, worked the whole thing in under a minute, and tossed it back to her. She whistled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “What do you think I do all day in here?”

  Just another testament to Wilks’s ability to deliver. She sat up straighter, because this felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office.

  “Well, here’s the crazy thing.” He sat back in his fancy leather chair. “Ethan wants to make a change in his cast.”

  “Okay. What kind of change?” It wasn’t a real question. She already knew where this was headed. Hell, it had kept her up all night. What Ethan was angling for was unprecedented. Fear struck first and it landed hard. She was an imposter. For some reason, they seemed to think she was this amazing actress, when in all honesty, she wasn’t. She hadn’t booked a decent job in all the years she tried. Then, the fear danced away and swapped places with a twinge of excitement that twisted, turned, and vibrated pleasantly. She ordered the dueling emotions to stand the hell down, and take twenty. Given it was her job to remain calm at all times, she luckily had the ability to mask the cascade of emotions in front of Wilks. Yep, that was her, completely not in control.

  “I don’t know if this is going to shock you or not. It shocked me.”

  She nodded but said nothing, probably because she was holding her breath.

  “He wants you to step into the role of Mandy effective today. There’s an official offer on the table.” He held up a hand before she could speak. “I know it’s a little out of left field, and I told him so myself. We went over it from every angle last night. Took hours, but we came up with a deal for everyone that makes sense.”

  Lauren exhaled slowly. “Wilks, I haven’t acted in years. I was just filling in for our sick cast members.”

  “But you have acted before.” He held his hand out as if presenting a very obvious point.

  She shook her head. “Not at this level. Plus, I’m rusty.” She gestured behind her. “These people are…pros. I couldn’t even land a toilet paper commercial on my own, and trust me, I tried. Too many times.”

  He waved her off. “We both know the industry is tricky. It’s not about how good you are in the beginning. It’s about who you know, and being in the right place at the right time. Then suddenly your talent matters.”

  He had a point. She nodded. “I guess that’s wha
t yesterday was.”

  “I’d say so.”

  Wilks leaned forward with a kind smile. He seemed more personable, like the everyday Wilks she was used to. “Here’s the thing. I know you, Lauren, and you’re nothing if not a professional yourself. Are you willing to step in? This is quite the opportunity.” He held out both hands. “These kinds of things don’t happen that often in the business.”

  Again, he was right. You heard about Cinderella stories like these, but never in a million years did Lauren think it could happen to her, especially after she’d carefully tucked those hopes away. She never dared imagine. After years of schlepping from one audition to the next, she’d just been offered a major role, the kind she used to lie in bed dreaming about. And she’d done so via her stage management career? It really was about being in the right room. How strangely the world worked.

  She clenched her fists several times, to discreetly burn off some of the nervous energy coursing through her limbs, and stared Wilks right in the eye. “I’ll do it,” she said quietly, feeling something long forgotten in her click into place. “I’ve never been more scared of anything in my life, but how can I not?”

  “I thought you’d eventually get there,” he said with a wink. He picked up a folder from his desk. “I have a contract all drawn up, and since you’re already an Equity member, there’s less red tape to fuss with.”

  “What about Evelyn?” Lauren tried not to wince at that particular side effect. She imagined her being sat down and let go officially, followed by the to-be-expected ire Evelyn was known for.

  “She’ll be fine. She works fairly steadily and will move on to the next project in no time. Part of the business.”

  Lauren nodded. This would be a setback for Nia, as well. Though she was never guaranteed replacement status, she would likely wonder why she was passed over. But she still had her original standby gig. Nothing had changed on that front, and she’d still have a job.

  “We’ll need a new stage manager. How do you feel about giving Trip a shot as PSM?” Trip had been a faithful assistant stage manager for over two years now and, in Lauren’s opinion, was the perfect one for the job. Not only had he earned it, but he was already familiar with the show and its specific needs.

  “I’m glad we agree. I have an appointment with him next to make it official.” Lauren closed her eyes, knowing how thrilled he was going to be. “I’ll see if we can get Janie to ASM.”

  Lauren nodded. “Great. I know she’s off this slot and was worried about employment.”

  He picked up his phone. “We’re about to make her day.” He glanced at his watch. “Rehearsal in an hour. You better grab a coffee and learn your lines.”

  “Oh. I need to get over there and set up.”

  “Not anymore you don’t,” Wilks said sternly. “You’re an actress only now. Make your call time, and be ready to work. That’s all you have to worry about. Trip will do the rest.”

  The concept left her dumbfounded, almost like she’d left home without money, keys, or her phone. Just show up and be prepared to delve into Mandy? The concept seemed so foreign to her when she was used to managing so many details.

  The smile was small when she left Wilks’s office, but as she walked the long hallway, passing one historic McAllister moment after another, it steadily blossomed. Her body hummed with a slow-growing excitement that started somewhere in her midsection and radiated out.

  An adventure was about to begin, and this time, she wasn’t Lauren Prescott, standing with her clipboard on the sidelines. She was part of it. As she reached the end of the hallway, she had to steady herself. The smile reached its full bloom as she allowed the understanding to settle.

  A dream was about to come true. She was an actress again.

  * * *

  When Carly’s alarm went off at seven thirty, she wanted more than anything to hurl it across the room and put out a hit on the clock and all its distant relatives. Instead, she remembered the new leaf she’d decided upon. “One foot on the floor,” she mumbled, and slowly made the request a reality. Now, as she lay there, half off the bed with the bottom of one foot touching the floor, she had to figure out how to get the other one there, too. “Not just yet,” she said to her ceiling and let her eyes slowly close again. “Just three minutes. I just need three.”

  Once they passed, she blinked. “Two feet on the floor.” She slid the second leg out, banishing it from the warmth of the covers and placed it flat on the floor next to the other one. Now only her body remained in bed, perpendicular and clinging to slumber like a life raft in a storm at sea. “Gotta sit up,” she whispered in defeat, but damn it, she made it happen. This whole routine was a production, yes, but for two straight mornings in a row, it’d worked. She’d not been late, and the day had been better for it. She’d also been afforded some extra time with just Lauren, and that made it all worthwhile. Lauren was so much more pleasant when the two lines between her eyes weren’t creased and angry. Carly sighed, naked and wrapped in her snuggly comforter, because those little lines were actually really cute, too.

  She could admit it. She was more than smitten with Lauren Prescott, and she’d thought about that sexy stage kiss nonstop since yesterday. Yes, it had been Mandy and Ashley, and she knew the difference, but the physical chemistry had been all theirs. Carly didn’t know if what they’d shown Ethan would give him the motivation to actually talk to Evelyn, or maybe even let her see Lauren perform the scenes in person. God, if only uptight Evelyn could see how likable Lauren was as Mandy, how funny and kind. She didn’t know the protocol for those kinds of practices in the theatrical world, but she hoped for her own career’s sake that yesterday hadn’t been for nothing.

  Two hours later, she stood in the rehearsal hall, iced coffee secured—without being late, mind you—waiting on Ethan. Lauren and Trip were behind the stage manager’s table passing a lot of pages back and forth and nodding. Evelyn was still out, apparently, which was great for at least one more rehearsal with someone else.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Ethan said, breezing into the room with a noticeable extra spring in his step. “Lots to do today, but first a brief announcement.” All eyes were on him. Heads quirked. Glances were exchanged. “There’s been a change to our cast. Effective today, the role of Mandy in Starry Nights will be played by Lauren Prescott. Trip will be our new production stage manager, and Janie will join him tomorrow as assistant. You’ll meet her then.” The room was silent for a moment. Carly’s gaze flew immediately to Lauren, who smiled demurely at the table, continuing to work and avoiding all eye contact. Finally, when she did look up, it was straight back at Carly, who sent her the biggest smile of encouragement. This was better than anything she’d hoped for. Carly couldn’t believe it. Her toes were numb and she wanted to jump up and down. They’d given Lauren the role? Unable to take it, she raced across the room to Lauren, as the rest of the company chatted quietly in shock.

  “I don’t believe it. This is fucking awesome,” Carly whispered, her arms around Lauren.

  “Is it?” Lauren asked.

  “Yes! You’re in the show now. You’re starring in the show, Lauren. Do you get that? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I just found out.” Lauren smiled. Her usual confidence didn’t shine through, however. “And I didn’t really see this coming. Yet here I am.” She lifted her arms and let them drop to the side in demonstration. “I think I have you to either thank or kill.” A pause. “So…thank you.”

  Lauren was afraid, Carly realized. She was a quieter individual, who had dealt with a lot of rejection as an actress. Carly needed to remember that. “Well, all I did was put you in front of Ethan—you did the rest. Besides, when do people around here pay any attention to me, anyway?”

  “More than you realize.”

  Carly shook her head, still on a high from the news. “This was all you and your talent.”

  Lauren exhaled slowly, as if she was about to board a really intimidating roller coaster.

&nb
sp; “Places for act two,” Trip announced to the room with gusto. Carly passed him the thumbs-up and slapped his shoulder.

  “You’re gonna kill it as the production stage manager-y thing.”

  “Thanks, Carly D. Working on it.” He winked and ran a hand through his bouncy curls, which, strangely, seemed even bouncier than usual. It was almost like they knew he’d been promoted.

  Kirby raced over. “Oh my God. This is the best thing ever. Lauren, you’re perfect for this. Do you need anything? How about I help you with lines? Oh, wow. This is huge. I gotta call my boyfriend later. Oh, do you want to get drinks after rehearsal tonight? Maybe we can all get drinks,” she said, indicating herself, Lauren, and Carly with a circular gesture.

  “Kirby?” Carly asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s give Lauren some space.”

  Kirby beamed and pointed at Carly as a light bulb appeared. “Got it. Say no more. You’re doing great, Lauren. Gonna smash some faces, which is a good thing. It’s like the new break a leg.”

  “Is it?” Carly asked. Because that seemed aggressive.

  “Yes, and that’s exactly what Lauren is going to do,” Kirby said, with confidence.

  Except, once they got started, Lauren wasn’t herself onstage. There was a stilted quality to her delivery that hadn’t been there in days past. She didn’t hold eye contact with Carly for very long during any of their scenes and seemed unexpectedly clumsy all of a sudden.

  “I am so sorry,” Lauren blurted to TJ, as she turned and ran right into him on her downstage cross.

  He steadied her by the shoulders, in character, and continued on. Company members seemed tense yet supportive as they watched, only exchanging a few looks when the same moment had to be restarted six different times. Carly felt responsible for Lauren and reassured her every time she apologized.