by Sierra Hill
Passing in front of Birdie, I glance back over my shoulder where Birdie seethes in pent up anger. Not my problem or my fault.
“Birdie, it was never going to happen with us. I’m sorry.”
And then I walk down the hallway hoping to have a few private moments with Joey before we begin the full dress rehearsal.
I just need a way to explain myself so maybe she’ll see a way to forgive me.
What’s the worst that can happen?
Chapter Thirty-One
Joey
You gotta fight, for your right
I’m not sure what has me sicker to my stomach right now.
The idea that tomorrow night I’ll be performing in front of three hundred audience members? Or witnessing Birdie’s hands all over my man?
My man?
It’s these thoughts that will get me into trouble and cause more pain than I need. Theo is not my man. He never was. He was simply a temporary fling and I was apparently his rebound girl.
And now it appears that he’s on to his next one, if he’s not already back with Alyssa.
I trudge my way down the hallway toward the converted office Theo and Birdie have been using when they need privacy for business matters. Shit, am I so stupid? Maybe they’ve been getting it on all the while without me even knowing it?
Knocking lightly, I wait to be welcomed in, the anger simmering low in my belly.
“Come in,” Theo’s voice summons me in and it sends a thrill down my spine. It’s the same low baritone he used when he was greedy in bed.
This is the first time we’ve been alone in four days. And I’m scared shitless. And angry. And frustrated. And I want angry sex.
As if Theo is going to whip my clothes off and fuck me against the door. He’s obviously already gotten over me.
No, he’s probably been waiting to give me feedback on how horribly off-kilter I was today. Our second to last rehearsal before the big performance and I sucked rotten eggs.
I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I was supposed to.
He’s going to take me out of the play, I just know it.
My hand grips the door handle, which jostles in my grip because it’s about a hundred years old and is about to fall off, but I take a fortifying breath to steel my nerves and walk in.
My eyes are cast down, but when I look up, I see Theo leaning back in his office chair, head tilted to the side, a strange look on his face. His hands go back and lock behind his neck, putting his amazing biceps on display.
I trip over my feet and go flying toward him. His quick reactions keep me upright, but his hands land on my boobs.
Quickly righting myself, I take a few steps backwards, mumbling apologies.
“Sorry.”
He chuckles. “Quite all right. Didn’t mean to cop a feel, but it certainly wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.”
When I look up, I see his brow lifted with humor. Damn, why does he have to be so cute?
“Not like you haven’t felt me up before.”
I immediately shut my mouth, biting my lower lip to keep myself from saying anything more incriminating.
Professional. Act professional.
The chair squeaks with his movement and he leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
“I’m sorry I’ve made things uncomfortable between us, Joey. That’s exactly what I didn’t want to have happen. It’s all my fault.”
I cross and uncross my feet, shifting left and right. How am I supposed to respond to that?
“I, uh…”
He waves his hand in the air. “I’m not sure if it’s just nerves or me that’s giving you trouble out there, but Joey, we have one more day til we open. I can’t have you like this.”
Oh God, is he firing me?
“Theo, I’m…”
“If you need me to step aside and have Marlon take over as Chester, that’s what I’ll do. I don’t necessarily want to, but you are great. You’ve worked so hard for this. I’m so proud of you.”
What?
This is his show that he’s worked so hard for. From writing it to pitching it and making it all come to fruition. I’m the one who’s ruining it for him right now.
Gah, I’m such a nimrod. This is his baby. He can’t be serious.
“Theo, you’ve made all this happen. I’ve learned so much and I’m sorry for being such a mess today. I promise to get my head on straight. I just need a good night’s sleep.”
He stands and his feet close the distance between us. I’m still looking down, avoiding his eyes.
Theo tips my chin up with his finger so our gazes meet. His eyes are a watercolor swirl of hazel and blue, like a sky full of smoky haze.
“I believe you can do this. Do you believe in yourself?”
Do I? Have I ever really believed I could do something worthwhile? That I could be successful? Or has my mother’s nitpicking all my life, cutting me to pieces bit-by-bit with her controlling behavior and criticism every chance she’s gotten, finally done damage?
My voice sounds small. “Y-yes.”
“Okay,” he smiles broadly. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s go back out there and show everyone what you’ve got.”
He grips my shoulders and I think he’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me so badly. But he doesn’t. He gives me a friendly squeeze and then steps back, leaving me confused and uncertain.
I remain standing there for a second, debating what I should say or do when there’s a knock on the half-opened door.
“Hey Theo, Niles needs you out there,” Dario, the stage manager indicates brusquely.
Theo’s gaze lands on me first, and then over to the open door.
“Yeah, okay. Be right there.”
Turning toward the door, Theo is just at the threshold when he looks back at me, an expression across his face I can’t read.
“No matter what happens, Joey, you’ll always be my Silvia.”
And then he leaves me to question everything that happened between us over the last month.
I remember the first time we met and how rude I thought he was; and then the morning he needed my help with Woody; the day I was locked out and he listened to my tales of woe; the friendship we began when I thought he was a gay man; the chemistry between us that led us to a passionate fling.
And his desire to help me see that I can do whatever I set my mind to. I don’t have to be stuck in a job that doesn’t bring me enjoyment. I don’t need to be reminded by my mother what a failure I am because I’m unmarried at twenty-six.
So many things that I’d thought were inevitable now seem so unnecessary. Like having to leave my life in Chicago to move back to Indiana.
I can quit teaching but I don’t need to move. I can stay here and continue pursuing my passion. Or I can move somewhere else. There’s nothing and nobody standing in my way right now except myself.
But first things first. I need to get back into the shoes of Silvia because she’s taught me the most important life lesson of all.
Silvia’s reminded me that you need to stand up and fight for what’s important to you.
And never back down from a challenge.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Theo
Those balls look good on you
Opening night brings out two things in people: insecurities and disorganized chaos.
As just an actor, I could handle both of those without blinking an eye. It’s what feeds the adrenaline and pumps you up before curtain calls.
As the director, however, it brings about an entirely new experience. Had I not chosen to be the lead actor in my own play, I would probably do a quick check on how everything is going and then just sit back and watch the show from the back row.
Tonight, however, I’ve already done the walk through with the stage manager and the crew, checked in with all the actors, and am now sitting in my dressing room doing my hair and make-up.
It’s surreal to consider how far I’ve come over the last year. The la
st three months specifically.
From getting kicked out of the apartment I shared with Alyssa, couch hopping with friends while auditioning and trying to remain gainfully employed, to getting the opportunity to housesit for Pat.
My luck changed the minute Joey came into my life. And not just my luck, but my entire path. The vision for my future all at once became clear. I realized what I’d been missing in my life.
Joey.
She’s what I was missing.
Staring into the mirror in front of me, I don’t see me, but I see Chester. And I think about what my alpha-male character would do in this situation.
Would he feel helpless after losing Silvia, or would he do something like beat his chest to win his girl back.
I don’t want to lose Joey from my life. She needs to know how I feel about her. How my life has turned around because she’s part of it.
With my make-up done and costume on, which isn’t much of a costume really since everything is contemporary and casual, I get up and stretch. I warm up my vocal cords, as acting takes a lot out of your voice when you need to use more range when you’re on stage.
My nerves aren’t as bad as I had expected them to be. In fact, I’m much more relaxed than I normally am on opening nights. Sure, we’ve had a few minor problems this afternoon with the lights and sets, but nothing that couldn’t be resolved quickly.
There was an issue with our front ticket booth computer where the list of prepaid tickets seemed to have disappeared, but we called in our IT guy and he fixed that in a snap.
So now I sit staring in silence, rehearsing the lines in my head. Opening night jitters can get the best of you if you’re not careful to block out all the negativity and self-doubt. Pent up energy can really mess with your head if you worry too much about forgetting lines, or whether so-and-so will be out in the audience, or whether the play will be a hit or not.
I learned the lesson early on not to get wrapped up in all the bullshit. There will be plenty of time after the first show to celebrate or commiserate. Right now, I take deep cleansing breaths to clear my head.
There’s a knock on my dressing room door and I’m jolted from my breathing exercises.
“Come in.”
The door creaks open and Alyssa’s blonde head peeks through the crack in the doorway.
“Hi Theo. I just wanted to come back and tell you to ‘break a leg,’” she waggles her fingers with a smile.
Fuck. Really?
Goddamn her for breaking my concentration.
“Yeah, thanks. I didn’t realize you’d be coming tonight. In fact, why are you here?”
She steps in, uninvited, and closes the door behind her. I do not have time for this.
“Theo, I’m just so proud of you and I wanted to be here to congratulate you. In fact, I was hoping that afterwards we could go out and celebrate. Like we used to do.”
She lets the implications hang between us as she moves within touching distance of where I sit.
“I just know you’re going to be huge,” she exclaims.
And then I know exactly what she’s looking for from me. She thinks if this play becomes a hit, and I become a celebrity playwright, she can hang on to the back of my coattails. She can become my arm candy and become famous by proxy.
Not a fucking chance in hell.
“Thanks Alyssa. I appreciate it. But I’d like you to leave. I didn’t invite you back here and I need to get in character. I also have no intentions of celebrating with you. Not tonight or any night. Why would you even think that?”
I give her a look of disdain as she’s staring at me incredulously. As if she has no idea what I’m referring to.
“But Theo,” she pouts, her hip pushed out to the side and her big false lashes batting at me. “I want to be with you. I realized you’re it for me and we should get back together. You can come back to live with me. I’ve missed you.”
The bile is making its way up my esophagus like a geyser ready to go. I focus my attention on my breathing, taking slow inhales and exhales with my eyes closed. Opening them again, I stand up and walk toward her, backing against the door.
Her expression brightens as if she thinks I’ve succumbed to her scheming and I plan on falling to my knees at her feet in thanks.
Fuck her.
I reach around her waist, dodging her breasts that she pushes into my chest, and I open the door. She’s forced to move out of the way as I swing it open.
Standing there with one hand on the door handle and the other pointing out to the hallway, I say,
“Get the fuck out now. Don’t ever come back. There’s no chance in hell I want to live with you again. But I will give you credit and I didn’t ever recognize it before. I have to say, you’re actually a really great actress. Because you fooled me all this time with your conniving, self-serving ways. In fact, I’d suggest you take some acting classes and then go to Hollywood. They love you plastic, Barbie types. Now, go. Goodbye.”
It’s obvious I’ve stunned her. She looks like one of those cartoon characters that got bashed on the head with an anvil, the stars and birdies swirling around her head in dizzied chaos.
Yet she doesn’t move an inch, so I’m forced to gently push her out. Her feet shuffle until she’s just outside in the hallway. I give her one last smile, waggling my fingers like she did earlier at me and I slam the door.
“Bye-bye, Al. Don’t come back now, ya hear?”
My relief is instantaneous. I’ve literally closed the door on my past and it feels incredible. A weight lifted off my shoulders. But it hits me at the absurdity of my situation.
When in my life have I ever had three women – at the same time – wanting to be with me?
Joey, Birdie and Alyssa.
Well, maybe two at the moment. And one I need to remind of how good we can be together.
I puff up my chest and stand in front of the mirror, giving my best impersonation of my character, Chester.
“Stand back, ladies…I just grew a giant pair of balls. Looks good on me, doesn’t it?”
Now let’s just hope I can keep those cojones in place for what I have planned tonight.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Joey
Go big or go home
We’ve made it through the first three acts without any major missed cues or lines, just a few stumbles here and there.
Marlon’s wig went all catawampus on him and he had to adjust it during his scene, but it actually made the scene funnier for the audience. Marlon is a true professional and took it all in stride, using it to his advantage.
Me, on the other hand, have been nothing but nerves since the curtain went up. At one point, I caught a glimpse at the audience and thought I was about to puke all over the stage. I envisioned that chain-reaction puking scene from the movie Stand By Me, when the entire audience all started puking in unison.
Yet my nerves were also coupled with a slow-burning anger that’s grown every time I’m on stage with Theo – which is pretty much every other scene, since we’re the focal points of the play.
The beauty of my anger is that it’s somehow transformed me into Silvia, who is a little spitfire who busts balls every chance she gets. And luckily I get to take it all out on Theo, aka Chester, because I’m pissed as hell from what I witnessed before curtains went up.
I’d been a ball of nervous energy and staying in my tiny four-walled dressing room wasn’t helping my anxiety, so I figured I’d get out and walk around a little before curtain call. I was stepping out of my dressing room, ready to head backstage, when I saw Alyssa walking into Theo’s dressing room.
She was wearing a short sundress and strappy heels and looked like a golden starlet ready to meet her golden boy.
I seriously wanted to run up behind her, grab her by the hair, throw her to the ground and spit in her face like I did to Lucy Monroe in kindergarten. Childish, I know, but you would have done the same thing if you’d seen the look she gave me when she noticed me standing a
few feet away.
It said, “I’ve won. He’s mine. Go get your own.”
I’ve never fought for anything I’ve wanted before. Maybe it’s how I was raised, to be grateful for everything I had and not hopeful for the things I couldn’t have. My mother’s motto was always, “You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit.”
But that’s not my motto now.
After our behind-closed-doors discussion yesterday when Theo told me how proud he was of me, I’d finally decided to give him another chance. And after tonight’s performance I was going to tell him – or show him, rather.
I was going to throw a fit over him because I think Theo’s worth it. He’s everything I’ve always wanted in a guy. Sweet, funny, thoughtful, gorgeous and good in bed.
Nope, make that great in bed.
And yes, while I know he was confused about his feelings toward me and Alyssa, I want to make it perfectly clear where I stand. I’ll go down fighting for what I want. If I win and he decides he wants me back, great. Then the fight is worth it.
If Theo doesn’t choose me, well, then at least I’ve stood up, proved that I will always stand up for what I want and I’ll go down swinging. I’ll stand up for myself instead of cowering or going along with what someone else decides for me.
If I can do it for other people, I can certainly do it for myself.
And I’m going to start with my mother.
Who, as it ends up, did show up tonight and is sitting in the front row with her friend, Jean.
I about pissed my pants the first time I caught her sitting there. I was left stage and behind the curtain, scanning the crowd waiting for my cue. When I came out, my eyes found hers and I noticed an expression I’ve never seen before.
I think it was pride.
Either that or she had gas. Who really knows when it comes to her?
But whatever the reason, I’m happy she’s there tonight. She came through for me, which I suppose she’s always done in her own controlling manner, but this time it was something I wanted. Not what she wanted.
I’ve been side stage for the last lines, while Theo is doing his monologue. The scene cuts in where he’s out in his garden, pulling weeds and throwing them over the fence into Silvia’s yard to spite her. It leads into the big blow-up and kissing scene in Act Four.
