AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hand on the back of his neck, pulling him to me like I needed him. His lips were as soft and warm as they’d been when we were hiding from the street performers, and he kissed me back just as eagerly.
Only the end of the music made us finally stop. “Fantastic!” said Carmina, the new musical director. “You really sold the lines and that kiss. But you two need to work on your tango. We will practice this before next rehearsal.”
Atkins called it a night after the next song. Andy was working with him on some of the new lighting arrangements for the second act songs, so I figured that would give Dorian and I some good alone time on the way home. Maybe we could hash things out again. For real this time.
I went to gather my things backstage with Dorian, but was intercepted by Carmina.
“Nadia, you have a phenomenal voice,” she said in a thick New York accent. “Simply stunning. But you were weak on some of the high notes, almost like you were shy.”
“Those really high parts in the last song intimidate me,” I admitted. “I’ll practice them in my spare time.”
“Nonsense. We’ll practice them now. If I’m going to be cashing checks from John Vandercant as the musical director, you can bet your ass I’m going to give him his money’s worth.”
Dorian was talking to some of the other dancers. I gave the back of his head a longing stare before following Carmina back out to the stage.
*
I don’t know what she was getting paid, but Carmina was worth every penny.
We practiced for another hour. Just stationary singing—no track work at all. We went over the high notes in the songs from tonight, with Carmina pressing a hand on my belly to help show how much air I should be expelling with my diaphragm each time. Then we went back and covered many of the songs from the first act of the show. Part of it was Carmina trying to determine my strengths and weaknesses, I could tell. Sizing me up.
She had me sing More Than Money, the powerful solo at the end of the first act, the one Tatiana had been injured singing. I gave it my all, and was rewarded with half a smile from the severe-looking musical director.
“That was better than I expected,” she said. “That song was my biggest concern, but I don’t even care anymore. You’re going to crush it. I have no doubts.”
“Thank you,” I said meekly.
She put her hands on her hips. “But some of the other songs are revealing your weaknesses. The high chorus in Ends Never Meet is a big one.”
“Yeah, I could feel myself stretching to hit those notes.”
“Here’s what I’m going to do.” She grabbed a leaf of paper from a nearby stool. It was sheet music. “We’re going to bring that chorus down a full octave. I thought it was too high already, and your singing confirms it. It’ll sound much better this way—trust me. I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m going to make a similar change to The Proposition, and maybe even the overture.” She chewed on the end of the pen while staring at the notes. “Let me think about it. But be ready for some changes. Alright?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said.
She tapped the pen against my arm. “Drink some tea for that throat. You sounded ragged after the last song. See you tomorrow.”
I was on cloud nine the entire way home. A lot had happened in the past four hours. I was playing the lead! And I was doing well! And we had a real musical director who was giving me actual feedback to help me get better!
It was like we had gone from the minor leagues to the majors in the blink of an eye.
The train ride back to the upper east side wasn’t long, but I put my headphones in and spent the time going over the songs Carmina was changing. The music on my phone was instrumental only, so I hummed the lyrical part to myself on the train, imagining the specific parts being sung an octave lower. They would definitely be easier on my throat, and showcase my strengths more. They were good changes.
I couldn’t imagine Atkins making changes like that on the fly. Then again, if he had tried to do that with Tatiana she would have stubbornly insisted on doing them the original way.
Halfway through the song, my phone chimed from a text message. I opened it with annoyance until I saw that it was a text from Ryan:
Ryan: I know you probably want to celebrate your promotion, but no stumbling home from the bar drunk, alright?
Me: I don’t get drunk. I’m an innocent angel who drinks two wine coolers max and then goes to bed at 9:30
Ryan: I’ve never seen an angel let me fuck her in the ass before
Me: That’s because I’m the best kind of angel.
Ryan: Fuck yeah you are
When I got home, I found a carton of leftover Chinese food on the counter. A sticky note with my name on it had been slapped on the side. Inside was pork fried rice.
