The Final Act (3 page)

“Stop it, man. You’re going to have me crying like a little girl.” Tom captured his hand and held it. “Change of subject. How’s Elena? This is a big gig. She must be pretty nervous.”

“No more than I am. Some people are always going to compare us to the Broadway company and find us lacking, no matter how good we are.”

“How about this Lucas guy? He any good?”

“Oh yeah. It’s great casting. Elena and Michael are flint and tinder. Very combustible.”

“And your character is the wet towel trying to beat the fire out.”

“Richard’s not like that.” Denny felt very protective of his character. “He loves Kathleen and does everything he can to hold onto her, even though he knows deep inside she’ll always love Aaron more than him. Richard’s not the bad guy.”

“What do you suppose old Richard does after Kathleen dumps his ass and goes back to Aaron for the happily ever after?” Tom drew slow circles around Denny’s right nipple before tweaking it sharply.

“He lives out his days on a tropical island with a handsome cabana boy.” Denny reached down and cradled Tom’s flaccid cock in his hand. “He lives to be an old man and dies in bed with his lifetime lover—a heart attack from too much sex.”

Tom shifted under his touch. “Mm. Sounds good. Except for the heart attack. That’s creepy. Could you imagine your partner dropping dead in the middle of it?”

Denny let go of Tom’s cock and got out of bed. “I’ve got to take a piss. You want a bottle of water or something to eat?”

“Water, but I’m not hungry.”

Denny looked down at his boyfriend’s compact, boxer’s body. “I dread to think what kind of crap you’re going to consume when I’m not here to cook something nutritious. Promise me you won’t survive on pizza, beer and pork rinds.”

“Nothing but brown rice, tofu and greens. I promise.”

Denny laughed. He went to the bathroom then to the kitchen where he pulled a pair of bottles from the fridge before padding back to bed. Even these mundane actions took on significance as he realized it was the last time he would be doing them for a long time.

He sat on the bed and offered Tom the cold water.

“As for the rest of the cast. Bill, Logan and Trinka will be fine. But Gretchen Hamilton, the girl playing Audrey is just a kid with no professional experience at all. High school plays and a little local theater, that’s it, and Pender’s given her this huge role. What’s he thinking?”

“Must see something special in her.” Tom took a long drink. “Do you really think she’ll freeze in the spotlight, or are you jealous because her break came so easily?”

“Shut up. I hate when you’re insightful.” Denny put his bottle on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed.

Tom grinned. “I may work in a bank, but I’m still a psych major at heart.”

“No, really. Shut up.” Denny rolled over and pressed him to the bed, kissing him quiet. Their tongues twined together like long-time dance partners.

After a few kisses, Denny pulled away and rested his forehead against Tom’s. “I can’t believe I’m leaving for Chicago tomorrow. Eight weeks of rehearsals and a month of performances.”

“I’ll fly out to see you, and maybe you can come home some weekend.”

“I’ll try.” Denny knew there was no free time on the production schedule. He kissed Tom’s jaw then nibbled his neck.

“We’ll make it work. We’ve been together almost six years. A little time apart isn’t going to separate us.” He held Denny close and rubbed his hand up and down his back. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime. You have to go for it without reservations.”

“I know,” Denny murmured against his lover’s warm skin. “It’s going to be great.”

But I’ll miss you.

Act One: Chicago

Scene One: Backstage

Jake shifted the strap of the guitar on his shoulder and tuned the A string. He played a chord, then a few bars of the score.

Rashid, the drummer, started the familiar rhythm of the opening number, “We Are All”, and Jake played along. The video monitor in the pit flickered from blue screen to a view of the stage, and Jake’s gaze shot to it.

At first the stage was empty then some of the actors came out to check their props and warm up or hang out. While he played the guitar solo in the middle of “We Are All”, Jake watched Denny and Elena talking center stage.

After a bit, Michael walked from the wings to join them. In seconds flat, he had Elena wound up about something, frowning and gesturing. The guy sure knew how to press her buttons. Jake grinned.

Then
she
walked on stage. His fingers continued to play the song, but his attention focused on the blonde angel and the way the light struck her hair, making a halo.

Gretchen slipped her arm around Denny’s waist, and he slung his across her shoulders. They leaned toward each other, probably gossiping about the bickering pair.

Elena scolded, while Michael stood slouching and silent, letting her wear herself out like a moth beating against a windowpane. They were fire and ice, but it worked come show time, when somehow they ignited.

Gretchen laughed at something Denny had said, her eyes crinkling and her mouth open. She had the happiest smile Jake had ever seen, an infectious grin that told the world she loved it and believed everything would turn out all right.

Jake had never spoken to her, but he’d heard her talking to other people and it seemed her optimism was sincere. He wanted to get closer, to feel her warmth shining on him, but didn’t know how to approach her. He was generally confident with women, but Gretchen made him feel awkward and self-doubting.

Steve, the bass player, came up beside him. “She’s a hottie. I’d do her.”

“A little too corn-fed country girl for me.” Jake dropped his gaze to his guitar, feigning disinterest.

“Wait a minute. Who are you talking about? I meant Elena.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s hot.”

Steve looked from the monitor to Jake. “No way. Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for Miss Iowa? You’re shittin’ me.”

Jake snorted and tightened a string.

“Have you talked to her?”

“No. I’m not interested.”

“Forget it, man. It’ll never happen. We’re down here in hell and that’s Nirvana.” Steve pointed at the stage floor only a few feet above their heads. “She’s never going to go for you.”

“I told you I don’t care.” Jack was saved from listening to more of Steve’s bullshit when the conductor called for attention.

“Let’s run through ‘Climbing Up’ and the entr’acte.” Arthur Wallace lifted his hands and the musicians settled and focused, waiting for his command to begin.

Jake glanced at the monitor again, but Gretchen was gone and the stage was empty. With a sigh, he turned his score to “Climbing Up”. Steve was right. Jake could look at Gretchen all he wanted, but he had a crappy shot at hooking up with her. Musicians tended to stick together, as did the cast and crew. Not always, but it was the general pattern.

It was better this way, he thought, sliding his finger silently up and down a string. If he talked to her, he might find out she wasn’t that special after all. Or worse, that she was everything he imagined, but she wouldn’t be interested in him.

Better to keep his distance and his fantasy.

“Michael, are you even listening?” Elena bitched. “You can’t keep changing things. It puts me off balance.”

“Keeps it fresh,” Michael replied in an unruffled tone guaranteed to irritate her. “It’s good for you.”

“I give up. I absolutely give up.” She pushed past him and stalked off stage.

Michael watched the indignant twitch of her ass then grinned at Denny and Gretchen before sauntering off in the opposite direction.

“What do you think? Are those two going to combust before opening night?” Denny asked Gretchen as they also left the stage to walk toward the dressing rooms. He was pretty tired of discussing Elena and Michael’s chance for romance, but living in a strange city hundreds of miles from home with his own love life on hold, there wasn’t much else to talk about. He was counting the days until opening night and Tom’s visit.

“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
.