The Final Act Page 3

  “I give ’em another week, tops,” Gretchen said. “They’ll either kill each other or have sex. Probably attack each other right on stage in the middle of one of their arguments.”

  Gretchen’s Wizard of Oz ringtone went off. Trinka had put the tune on her phone to tease her about her Midwestern roots, mistakenly thinking she was from Kansas rather than Ohio.

  Gretchen checked caller ID. “Grandma. Here we go again.”

  She spoke into the phone, “Hi, Grandma. Yes, I’m enjoying the play. No. I’m in Chicago, not New York, remember? This is the city we’re opening in… Right. We’ve been rehearsing for six weeks. The show opens the end of the month. Mom and Dad are bringing you to see it.”

  Gretchen rolled her eyes at Denny. He knew she’d explained all this to her grandmother several times.

  “The play is about a group of college friends and how their lives and relationships change over the years.”

  “St. Elmo’s Fire meets Rent,” Denny said, making her smile.

  “No, Grandma. I’m not the lead. It’s an ensemble show. That means there isn’t a star. All the characters are an important part of the story… Yes, it’s a musical… I do have a romance in the story.” She widened her eyes at Denny.

  He laughed, wondering if she was going to explain her character’s bisexuality to the old woman.

  “Love you, too, Grandma. I’ve gotta go now. Talk to you again soon. Bye.” Gretchen closed the phone with a click. “She’s getting worse. Her mind is like a sieve.”

  Denny hugged her. “Sorry. It’s hard seeing someone you love fade away like that.”

  Gretchen leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know it wouldn’t be any different if I were at home. There isn’t anything I could do for her, but I feel bad not being around.”

  “You’re doing exactly what you should be doing, living out your dream. I’m sure your grandma wants that for you.” Denny had become an expert at giving Gretchen pep talks. She was homesick, probably more so than the rest of them since this was her first experience away from home, but his assurances were beginning to be as repetitive as Gretchen’s talks with her grandma.

  “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you here.” Gretchen wrapped both arms around him and gave him a big hug. Denny’s slight annoyance dissolved. She was a sweetie, always so cheerful and good-natured.

  “All right, little sis. Cheer up. I’ll see you onstage in a few.” He kissed her temple and let her go.

  Gretchen walked toward the women’s dressing room while Denny continued toward the men’s, navigating around the set pieces which still smelled of fresh paint.

  “Denny,” Elena called after him. “Wait up. I need to talk to you.”

  He sighed, wondering how he’d become the designated therapist. “Hi, babe. What’s up?”

  “What’s always up? Michael is driving me crazy! Just looking at him pisses me off. I can’t believe Pender is still letting him make changes two weeks from opening.”

  “It’s not like he’s rewriting the script. They’re just small things. Michael’s right about keeping it fresh. That’s why he’s so good.” Denny paused then added, “Your acting is better not knowing what little curve he’s going to throw next. I’ve seen you open up these past weeks.”

  Elena thumped him on the arm. “Damn! You’re supposed to be my friend and tell me I’m right and Michael Lucas is an asshole. What’s the matter with you?”

  Denny laughed. “He’s an arrogant ass. I don’t know how you can stand him.”

  “Thank you. That’s better.” She laughed, too. “Okay. I’m done whining. How are you doing?”

  “I miss Tom. A lot. And this is only the beginning. We haven’t even hit the road yet.”

  “He’s flying out for the opening, right?”

  “Yeah. How about your mom?”

  “I sent her tickets, both plane and show. She won’t take money from me, but tickets are a gift so she has to accept them. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see me, but she’s used to not being able to afford things or take time off work.” Elena shook her head.

  “She’s so hard to deal with. The woman worked herself to the bone helping me through college, even though she thought majoring in theater was a mistake. Now that I’m doing well, she’s too proud to accept anything from me. I want to shake the stubbornness right out of her.”

  “Stubborn. Proud. Workaholic. Hm, who does that sound like?” Denny backed away before Elena could smack him again. “I have to get ready. See you on stage.”

  The smell of sweat, deodorant and dirty socks assailed him when he entered the overheated dressing room, where all eight male cast members changed. Denny had expected a larger space in a big theater like the Chicago, but this room wasn’t any better than dressing rooms he’d had in smaller theaters.

  Denny went to the costume rack to get his first outfit: jeans, a shirt and Richard’s trademark vest.

  The costumes were generic casual wear, undated to give the story a timeless appeal. Denny appreciated the comfortable clothes. One summer he’d been in a period drama wearing a three-piece wool suit in a non-air-conditioned theater under searing stage lights. He’d sweated off pounds every performance.

  The four chorus members, Rick, Chris, Tanner and Max, were already dressed and playing cards at a table littered with pop cans and chip bags.

  Michael sat with his chair tilted back on two legs and his heels propped on another chair, his arms crossed over his chest. Logan, who played Zach, the zealous anarchist, sat across from him, playing a handheld video game.

  “Hey, buddy. We’re going out after rehearsal today. You in?” Logan looked up from his Game Boy.

  “Sure.” Denny pulled off his shirt and donned Richard’s, trying to mentally assume the character’s traits as well. It was an exercise he’d learned in a theater class: put on the costume and take on the character. It was kind of Psych 101, but it worked for Denny.

  I am Richard. I’m nineteen and I believe I can change the world. I drink and smoke too much and spend more time talking with my friends about social issues than actually accomplishing anything. I’m in love with Kathleen, who wants my best friend, Aaron. I’m passionate and feel deeply, with a young person’s sense of experiencing everything for the first time. I’m convinced no one ever loved this strongly or was so committed to changing the world as I am.

  “You going through your list of Richard?” Michael’s voice shimmered with suppressed laughter. He didn’t believe in method acting and claimed he did nothing special to prepare. Dressed for the first scene in jeans and T-shirt, he looked as he did every day.

  “Hey, man, not everybody can pull real tears out of their ass every night on demand,” Logan said. “Some people have to work to get their head in the right place. Not me, obviously”—he indicated the Game Boy in his hands—“but some of us.”

  The exit door opened, letting in a breeze and Bill Manning, smelling of fresh air and cigarette smoke. “What’d I miss?”

  “Hey, there he is, Bill-as-Bill.” Denny shucked out of his own jeans and picked up his costume jeans. The change seemed kind of pointless.

  “Hi, Dennis.” Bill took off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. “Are you ever going to drop that? It left funny behind six exits back.”

  “I think it’s funny,” Logan said, setting the Game Boy on the table. “Not only is your real name your character name, amusing enough, but they don’t bother to give you a last name. You’re just Bill-who-dies-young.”

  “If this was Star Trek, you wouldn’t even have a name. You’d be billed as Crewman One, first to die on the planet du jour,” Denny teased as he zipped up his fly.

  “I may die by Act Two, but I get paid the same as you guys for half the work, so who’s the sucker?” Bill straddled a chair, resting his arms on the back. “Where are we going after the show tonight?”

  “Some place new Logan’s discovered,” Michael said. “Fortunados.”

  Denny tuned out the co
nversation while he finished dressing. Despite what Michael said, prep time was important, and Denny had seen Michael pull into himself and do the same, whether he admitted it or not.

  Walking away from the group, Denny did some deep breathing exercises and ran lines in his head. There were two similar passages and sometimes he got parts of them confused.

  “I feel like I’m losing you, Kathleen. You’re here, but you’re not really with me. I love you and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

  Poor Richard, losing his loved one despite everything he did to try to hold her. It was depressing.

  As soon as rehearsal was over, he’d call Tom just to hear his voice. Only eighteen more days and they’d be together again.

  Elena loved vocal warm-ups. Many actors found them an annoying necessity, but she honestly enjoyed running up and down scales and enunciating tongue twisters. She liked the growing sense of excitement as the orchestra tuned up and curtain time loomed. It was a Christmas Eve feeling. Good things were coming—exciting things, and the anticipation was almost better than the actual event.

  After six intensive weeks of rehearsals, though, she was ready for an audience. A person could take only so much foreplay. She glanced over at Michael, also on stage, warming up. His tousled sandy hair begged to have fingers combed through it.

  Elena looked away, concentrating on a prop fern that drooped wearily in its pot on the edge of the stage. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, her hands loose at her sides and her throat open to let the sound pour out.

  Around her, the full palette of voices made a richly textured musical sound as they flowed up and down the scales. She caught Gretchen’s eye, and the blonde winked. She looked as delighted to be there as Elena felt.

  The band played the chorus of “We Are All”, and the singers joined in.

  One life to live as we choose.

  We are all open to what the day brings.

  One heart to share with the world.

  We are all free to spread our wings.

  And soar. And soar.

  To the sky.

  The words might be corny, but the melody gave the song emotional depth. When the full chorus belted it out in harmony, the hair on Elena’s neck rose every time at the resounding crescendo on the word “sky”. Their voices blended like they’d been singing together all their lives. She was proud to be part of a cast, which was every bit as good as the original. And while Michael might bug the crap out of her, he could act and sing circles around the original Broadway Aaron.

  She glanced at him again to find him looking back at her. His gaze slid away immediately.

  Elena’s heart thumped. He’d caught her looking. But then she realized he was watching her, too. Was it possible Michael was interested in her?

  Stop it. Grow up. She’d seen backstage romances flare and just as quickly burn out. It was childish to confuse stage passion with the real thing. They were professionals, for God’s sake.

  Elena concentrated on putting everything she had into the song. As the company reached that soaring final note, she stared at the empty seats and imagined them filled, only a few weeks from now. Her heart soared along with the music at the thought.

  Walking from the stage afterward, she felt a hand on her arm and turned to find Michael beside her. Her stomach jolted at his sudden appearance. Being near him was like being caught in an electromagnetic wave of charisma.

  “I’m giving you a heads-up now so you don’t yell at me later. In the bedroom scene, I’m going to pick you up and carry you to the bed. We’re supposed to be passionate and yet we stroll across the stage. It’s awkward and weird. But I wouldn’t want to take you by surprise with spontaneity and piss you off.”

  “Did you check with Pender?” Elena felt her blood pressure rising. “Michael, we’re two weeks away from opening, and you’re altering the staging. You can’t keep changing things on a whim.”

  “Pender hasn’t complained lately.”

  “He gave up. Since you go right on doing what you want anyway, he quit trying to rein you in. That’s why I’m stuck doing it.”

  “Maybe he likes my instincts.” Michael’s lazy smile made her temper burn, but also started heat blooming in her belly.

  “Fine. But this is it. After tonight, no more changes. And if Pender complains about this, it’s all on you.”

  “This will be a lot better. Trust me.”

  Surprisingly, she did. His instincts were good. And beneath her protest, on a very fundamental level, she wanted him to scoop her up and carry her in his arms.

  “You know I’m all about winging it,” Michael continued, “but maybe we should practice a couple of times to make sure I can lift you without throwing my back out.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He took Elena’s hand, and his warm flesh sliding against hers gave her another of those ridiculous stomach flutters. He led her to an empty dance rehearsal room backstage. There was a mirrored wall with a bar along it and a well-polished wood floor. The smell of old sweat and new varnish perfumed the air.

  Elena watched Michael’s reflection in the mirror as he spoke. “Okay, take it from your line, ‘We shouldn’t do this’.”

  It felt odd without the apartment set around them. She pulled her eyes away from the mirror and looked up at Michael.

  “We shouldn’t do this. What about Richard?”

  Slipping an arm around her back and one behind her thighs, Michael interrupted her next line, lifting her easily off her feet. Her arms automatically went around his neck, and she gave a little gasp of surprise.

  “I don’t care.” Michael’s face was close. His breath puffed against her face and she smelled the sharp scent of breath mint. He bent his head to kiss her then stopped.

  “Wait a minute. This is awkward. I can’t kiss you after I’ve picked you up. Do it again.” He set her down on her feet.

  Elena held onto his shoulders for a second as she got her balance. Her body vibrated with excitement, but she managed to snap, “Don’t step on my line this time.”

  She delivered her speech again, finishing with, “He trusts me!”

  “Tomorrow you can tell him it’s over, but I’ve got to have you now.”

  Michael pulled her into his arms, planted a searing kiss on her lips then scooped her off her feet. He carried her a few yards before setting her down again.

  They remained locked in an embrace, both a little breathless as though they’d done an entire dance number instead of a simple lift. Elena glimpsed their reflection in the mirror. They looked really good together; Michael’s blond-streaked hair and her dark curls, his sleek, swimmer’s body and her petite, compact figure, his pale skin and her tan flesh. They made a sexy couple.

  “How’s it going to work with laying me on the bed? Are you going to just drop me on it?”

  “Hang onto my neck and drag me down with you like you’re frantic and can’t wait. Kathleen and Aaron have been fighting their attraction through three scenes. I think that’s enough foreplay, don’t you?”

  “Mm-hm.” Elena’s nipples were tight and hard, pressed against his chest. Her sex clenched simply from being kissed and picked up a couple of times. It was annoying how her body betrayed her.

  “Okay.” Michael finally stepped away from her. “Let’s try it that way tonight and see what Pender says.” He glanced at his wrist, but he was wearing his character’s leather wrist cuff instead of a watch. “It’s probably time.”

  “Uh-huh. Don’t want to piss off the stage manager.” She felt him following her from the room as if their bodies were connected.

  When they reached the stage, everyone was in place. Elena and Michael separated and went to opposite sides of the apartment set. Elena sat on the ratty couch, one leg hooked over the arm, a textbook open on her lap. Her face was turned toward the book, but her eyes watched Michael stalk across the stage like a cat. It was easy to get into character. Like Kathleen, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Michael/Aaron.
<
br />   He stood in profile, his angular face dramatically lit by the stage lights as he gazed out the fake window. His sharp cheekbones, hard jaw and full lips were attractive, but it was his eyes that seized Elena’s gut and twisted. They were indigo in shadow, but brilliant as sapphires when they caught the light.

  Elena turned her attention back to the textbook and concentrated on using her real attraction to Michael to create Kathleen’s unrequited love for Aaron.

  The house lights went down and the overture began.

  When the spotlight hit her, Elena lifted her face and sang about her desire for Aaron and her dreams for the future. A second spot illuminated Michael, showing who her love interest was. He revealed his yearning to travel the world and experience life. Then Denny was shown as the third corner of the triangle. He expounded on his commitment to a better world—and his love for Kathleen.

  Gretchen as Audrey revealed her self-doubts and her questioning of her sexuality. Logan, playing the zealous Zach, chimed in about the need for anarchy to wake people up to their social responsibility, while Bill sang a humorous verse about simply trying to keep his head above water and not flunk out of college.

  They joined together on the chorus, creating a solid wall of sound before breaking into parts in the next verse. Each supplied a harmonious thread, weaving a rich tapestry. “We Are All” was an intricate song that made a stunning opening to the show.

  The play moved along quickly to the bedroom scene in which Kathleen, having given up on Aaron, is dating Richard. Seeing them together makes Aaron realize he wants her. The smoldering embers between them flare to life one evening.

  Elena grew nervous as the love scene approached. She always feared their make-out session might look more awkward than sexy. It was such an intimate moment to perform before an audience—even though there was no audience yet.

  As they’d practiced, Michael cut off her line with a kiss, lifted her in his arms, carried her to the bed and laid her there. Without breaking the kiss, Elena pulled him down with her.