by Tara Frejas
“I’m sorry, I stepped on your toes / If this is love, then my experience shows...”
He heard Erin’s voice tremble through the chorus while the dancers acted out a lover’s spat. Mots exited the performance space, leaving a crying Regina behind.
“Forgive me, my timing’s a mess / Sometimes the best thing I could do is guess / Won’t you give me a chance / one, two, three / one, two, three / won’t you dance, won’t you dance with me?”
Five long strides. That was all it took for Ramon to gather Erin in his arms, her small frame a flawless fit in his. He swayed her to the tune of the still playing melody, holding her tight when he felt her trembling.
“Why are you shaking?”
“Stage fright,” she mumbled, her warm breath permeating the fabric of his shirt and giving him goosebumps. “I’m sorry, Ramon.”
“Hush, it’s fine,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. He hadn’t planned on dragging the issue further after all. All he wanted was to tell her he was fine, that she was forgiven. And if that also meant he was weak to her, then so be it. “My toes are okay.”
She raised her head to meet his gaze. “You’re not mad anymore?”
“Would I be holding you like this if I were?”
“You have a point.”
“I always do.”
They continued to sway until after the music faded into silence and allowed the evening quiet settle over their happy bubble for a while. Ramon placed Erin’s hands on his shoulders while his found their way around her waist.
“How was my audition?” she ventured to ask, her hopeful little smile enough to make Ramon’s heart leap.
But he managed a deadpan expression, acting like he was contemplating on some constructive criticism. With reluctance, he nodded. “It was passable. Perhaps you’d have fared better if you had a good luck charm on you.”
“Oh.” She pouted. “I loaned mine to someone.”
“That’s too bad.” It was getting more difficult to hold back a smile, but Ramon decided to keep up the charade. “Your backup dancers were great, though. The choreography was spot on.”
“Does that mean my chances of getting the part are slim?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips now, and he lifted a hand to her face, tapping his index finger on the tip of her nose. “I think that much effort deserves at least a callback.”
Erin’s face lit up, a radiant smile blossoming from her lips to her eyes.
“I’ll take it.”
Erin’s Waltz
E. Javier
One afternoon, out of the blue
one-two-three, one-two-three
I tiptoed my way to you
one-two-three, one-two-three
I asked if you could teach me how to dance
and that’s how this story began
Don't know why I never knew
one-two-three, one-two-three
My heart’s saved a spot for you
one-two-three, one-two-three
Only when I had seen your face again
Did I learn what you meant to me, my friend
I'm sorry, I stepped on your toes
If this is love, then my experience shows
Forgive me, my timing's a mess
Sometimes the best thing I could do is guess
Won't you give me a chance
one-two-three, one-two-three
Won't you dance, won't you dance with me?
Epilogue
Five weeks later
“MONFIGS!” Mark’s voice boomed through the backstage hallway. “Monfigs, where are you?”
It was thirty minutes before eight in the evening, and everyone backstage at Lakambini was preparing for Hanggang Ulap’s evening gala. Tonight was the first show of the extended run, Lakambini’s response to insistent public demand when the initial month-long run ended.
“Here!” Ramon called, stepping out of the pantry. “Need help?”
Mark strode over and, without another word, took him by the arm. He led Ramon into one of the dressing rooms, where Erin and the others from the makeup and wardrobe team were putting finishing touches on the actors. With a quick shove, Mark deposited Ramon into the dressing room and said, “Suit up.”
Everyone in the room looked up, curious.
“Pio landed an hour ago but he’s still stuck in traffic,” Mark explained. “I don’t think he’ll make it on time, so suit up.”
All of a sudden, the ground underneath Ramon’s feet felt unsteady and the ambient noise in the building seemed to have been magnified a hundredfold. These were the very moments understudies were trained for—heck, this was the moment he wished would come even once—but his anxiety jumped from behind, paralyzing him.
How will the audiences react if they knew they weren’t going to see Pio tonight? Thus far, all the buzz that surrounded Hanggang Ulap was largely thanks to his huge fanbase. And while the other cast members have since earned lots of love from the theatregoers, Ramon was willing to bet 90% of the audience members tonight were here for Pio Alvez.
A warm touch to his wrist brought him back to the moment. He glanced to his side and saw Erin, who looked at him with a thoughtful smile. “Let’s get you ready.”
* * *
Twenty minutes to curtain
“Relax. It’s going to be fine.” Erin’s voice was calm and reassuring as she took Ramon to the next dressing room where they kept another set of costumes. On the way there, Mark handed her a mic pack and gave her a quick refresher on how to use it.
“Jesus, Kai is fast,” the stage manager remarked, noting how Ramon was already made up.
Erin smirked. “You’re only noticing that now?”
“No, but she one-ups herself every time. Anyway...get Monfigs ready in ten. We’ll make an announcement soon.”
“You got it, chief.”
Erin flashed Mark a quick salute before he disappeared backstage. Turning to Ramon, she found him pacing back and forth in front of the dresser mirror, taking in deep breaths. This was probably too much for him to take in right now, but they had no time for lengthy pep talks. Insecurities are monsters that are difficult to keep at bay, but she knew if Ramon put his mind to it, he’d be just fine.
She believed he was ready. She saw how he and Pio spent a lot of time learning from each other during the daily rehearsals. She saw how Ramon commanded the stage when he got a shot at a complete run-through during tech week. Juliana even applauded him for his efforts and wished she could see him in an actual performance.
Erin wasn’t going to let him waste this opportunity if she could help it.
“All right, listen.”
“What’s my first line again?”
“Take your clothes off.”
“What?”
Erin strode over to the rack of clothes and pulled out a set labeled Understudy, Act 1. Snapping her fingers in front of Ramon’s face, she repeated, “Clothes. Off.”
Ramon did as he was told, taking his pants off first and putting the costume on. Not wasting any time, she pulled his shirt off for him.
“Holysh—Erin, wait!”
“What—don’t tell me you’ve suddenly gotten shy?” she teased, letting her hands linger over his tight abs, drawing a gasp and a groan from Ramon. Erin giggled as she chucked his shirt away and picked up the mic pack.
“You’re cruel.”
“Just doing my job, Mr. Actor, sir.” She fought the urge to laugh while adjusting the mic pack belt around his waist. “Too tight?” Erin asked, looking up at him. She saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down, as though attempting to swallow something stuck in his throat.
“No.”
“Good.”
She handed him a light gray button down shirt and asked him to turn around. When he obliged, Erin worked on the headset cable, running it up his back and securing it with mic tape at random points. “If you keep thinking you’ll mess up, you really are going to mess up,” she reminded. “Just clear your mind of e
verything else and remember what you rehearsed. Forget about what you’ve seen Pio do. You do you.”
“Okay.”
“Done.”
With care, she put the headset on him, securing it with more tape while Ramon finished dressing up. She buttoned him up with practiced hands and gave him a light kiss on the lips. “We’re testing in three.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes to curtain
“Due to unforeseen circumstances, Pio Alvez will not be able to perform tonight,” came the pre-show announcement. “The role of Aries Tolentino will be performed by Ramon Figueroa.”
The downside of performing at a small theatre like Lakambini’s is that you can hear most everything, anywhere even if it was only a breath louder than a whisper. It’s why stage managers, their assistants, and team heads were assigned radios every show—so they don’t need to bark orders and risk getting heard while a show is going on.
Likewise, audience response travelled quickly backstage, immediate feedback to those involved in a production. They knew instantly when a joke fell flat or made people laugh, when audiences gasp in shock or cheer the characters on with applause.
Right after the announcement was made, the audience response sounded to Ramon like an imminent explosion. The low murmurs grew louder, punctuated with higher pitched voices here and there. His heart fell to the pits of his stomach.
Did he just imagine it, or were people booing?
The door opened, letting Erin back in. She smiled at Kai, who was retouching Ramon’s make-up. “I brought you guys something to drink,” she said, putting down two water bottles on the dresser table.
“Thanks, girl. Everything okay out there?”
Erin sighed, leaning against the table. “Yeah, well. Ramon will shut them up later,” she replied, winking at him. He responded to her with a faint smile.
“Ignore them,” she said. Her voice was firm, but the look she gave him was tender.
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
Five minutes to curtain
Erin observed Ramon’s silhouette as he stood waiting in the wings. He looked stiff, like he held his breath in and had forgotten how to exhale. He clenched his restless hands into fists only to unclench them again so he could shove them in his jeans pocket. The cycle repeated a few times until Erin decided she couldn’t take his fidgeting anymore.
She stepped up behind him and slid her hand in his. Surprised, Ramon glanced over his shoulder. He squeezed her hand tight. “Please tell me Pio arrived,” he whispered.
“I have no such news.”
They both looked up when the three-minute warning chimes sounded. “You do have the lucky charm I loaned you, right?” Erin asked. “It’s pretty effective.”
“No, but I have you.” Ramon gathered her in his arms and squeezed her tight.
“Aww.” She ran a hand down his back. “You’ll do great. I just know it. Remember to breathe.”
As the house lights dimmed, they both took a deep breath, held it in for two-three seconds, and exhaled. She pulled away from his embrace, planted a kiss on his lips, and gave his cheek a gentle pat. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Break a leg, Mr. Figueroa.” She lifted herself on her toes and kissed him again. “Have fun.”
* * *
Erin loved it when she was right.
The moment Ramon opened his mouth to sing, the audience hushed and hung on to his every word. His portrayal of Aries came out a little more pained, a little more desperate. Where Pio would have belted a note like a cry for help, Ramon took it down a notch and kept the sorrow closer to his heart. Where Pio would have acted with a little more defiance, Ramon did so with an earnest yet trembling voice.
Just like he did during auditions, Ramon transformed under the spotlight. He put Aries on as though the character were an oversized coat he altered to fit—snug, perfect, and completely his. Gone were the traces of his anxiety, whisked away with every note and line he delivered on stage. His heartfelt solos were a joy to listen to, and his duets with Iris Sandoval were stuff eargasms were made of.
Call her biased, but Erin was certain the show had never built up with this kind of intensity before. Tonight’s performances were so powerful and emotional that by the time Ramon and Iris sang the reprise to Himig ng Pag-uwi, Erin found herself sobbing like a baby. Everyone else watching backstage had tears in their eyes too.
At curtain call, the theatre shook with thunderous applause as Ramon took his bow. Erin gasped as she looked around. Every single audience member from the orchestra up to the balcony was on their feet, applauding and cheering for the actor they hadn’t wished to see.
There goes my Ramon.
“Well, would you look at that.”
Erin turned to see Pio standing right beside her, beaming at the same view she was shedding happy tears for. She frowned at him. “When did you get here?”
“A little after intermission. Sat at the tech booth,” Pio replied, his eyes still fixed on the actors’ backs as they prepared to take their final bow for the evening. He leaned closer to Erin and whispered, “Your boyfriend was awesome.”
Her response was a proud smile. A smile so deceiving Pio didn’t know what hit him when out of the blue she punched him on the arm.
“Owww!” he hissed, rubbing the offended limb. “What the f—”
“You were late,” she snapped and bared her teeth at him like an angry dog. “I ought to kill you.”
“Later,” Pio said and waved at Ramon, who approached them with a teary smile. They shook hands and hugged. “Congratulations, man. You—I’ll save my fanboying for later. I think you two need a moment.”
And just like that, Pio bolted, attaching himself to Iris who was headed back to the dressing rooms.
“When did he get here?”
“Act two.”
“Hay naku, Pio...” Ramon shook his head and stepped closer to Erin until he could tuck her head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her, one after the other, and held her tight. Erin thought he felt warmer than usual, as though he wore the audience’s warm applause over his clothes, his skin. “That was exhausting. But I had a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad,” Erin whispered, patting his back. “I’m so proud of you.”
He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “I have so many things to say,” he murmured.
“Kiss now, talk later?”
“I like that.” His hands found the base of her neck and let his thumbs rest on either side of her jaw. She shivered lightly as his fingers got lost in her hair, and as the house lights dimmed once more, his lips found hers.
Ramon, Erin found, was good at this. They didn’t follow a script, but his kisses spoke volumes. Even when music was absent when they kissed, she heard harmonies in her head. And they didn’t need fancy lights either, because each time, he lit a fire inside her heart.
“How many are we up to now?” he mumbled, smiling, referring to his personal challenge of catching up with Erin’s past leading men in terms of kisses. He was enjoying this too much.
“Five hundred forty-five, forty-six? I might have lost count.”
He kissed her again. “Five forty-seven.”
“Why are we even counting this?” Not that she was complaining. She was enjoying this too.
“Because! I want to make up for all the times you wished you were kissed for real.” Another kiss. “Five forty-eight.”
“Monfigs! We need you out here!” Mark’s voice resonated from the hall.
Erin swiped her thumb along his bottom lip and straightened out his collar. “Later. Your new fans are waiting for you.”
“Wait for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere—I need to take that costume back, remember?”
“Oh, right.” A smirk appeared on his face. “Are you going to undress me again?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she deadpanned.
Ramon put both hands over his chest. “Please stop touch
ing me inappropriately. It’s very unethical,” he warned and turned on his heel, laughing, the throaty sound bouncing across the hall. Erin followed after him, her steps quick to match his long strides.
“Ramon Elias!”
He stopped before he could get to the door and turned to face Erin with a big, mischievous grin on his face. That same grin turned into a tender smile that soon dissipated into a happy sigh. Ramon pulled her close, dipped his head slightly, and kissed her twice.
“Five forty-nine, five fifty,” he declared and touched his index finger to the tip of her nose. “I love you.”
Ramon didn’t wait for her to reply. He simply slipped out the door and into the lobby where he almost got mobbed by audience members waiting to get a picture taken with him.
Erin remained standing there, observing the scene through eyes now clouded with tears. Was this how Ramon felt every time he saw her perform and get recognized for her work? Her heart pounded in joy, and she felt pride run through her veins. Even her skin tingled, thrilled over the now and what the future held for Ramon. It was overwhelming, a high that was different from and even more intense than when she was at the receiving end of the applause.
This is love, isn’t it? she asked herself, smiling as Ramon looked her way and caught her eye. It must be, because as they mirrored smiles and locked gazes across the lobby, the only words Erin could come up with were—
God, I love you too.
THE END
Author’s Notes
Teatro Lakambini (literally, Muse Theatre) is a fictional Philippine theatre company loosely based on an existing theatre company based in New Manila, Philippines. Meanwhile, Gawad Lagablab is a fictional award-giving body which recognizes talents in the field of art.
Inspiration for Hanggang Ulap was taken from my first published novel, Paper Planes Back Home. The following titles are fictional musicals and songs from fictional musicals produced by Teatro Lakambini:
Hanggang Ulap – To the Skies
Ang mga Manghahabi – The Weavers
Sa Kanto ng Kaimito at Santol – At the Corner of Kaimito and Santol
