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“Keep going!” Atkins said while motioning with his hand, but Tatiana had already stopped singing and was now crossing her arms.
“How can anyone work with this distraction? The lights must be fixed before I can go on!”
Braden stopped singing mid-note and slumped his shoulders. “I was just getting to the part the director said I—”
“I’m leaving,” Tatiana interrupted, storming off stage.
“Tatiana, wait! We can…” He gave up and whirled around to face the back of the theater. “Andy! What the fuck is this?”
A tall man came jogging down the aisle. His blond hair was cut short, and he wore wire-rimmed glasses. “We just set the lights up yesterday. They must have been installed wrong.”
“Bro, I didn’t fucking install them wrong,” shouted one of the stage hands. He was a bull of a man in a tight tank top, and the scowl was perfectly suited for his handsome face. “I checked them after install, and again before tonight’s rehearsal.”
“They didn’t just malfunction on their own,” Andy replied.
Ryan looked all around. “This place is fucking haunted.”
While they climbed up into the trusses to check the lights, Director Atkins pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Might as well call it a night. Great job everyone, see you again tomorrow. Same time.”
*
I went backstage to gather my things along with the rest of the cast. People were clustering into their clicks and making plans to meet up for dinner, or drinks. The gay dancers in one little group, the straight ones in another. The four stage hands were arguing about the malfunctioning light in another corner.
Me? I was still flying high after my five minutes of fame. Such a small thing to be excited about, but it was still my first real chance since performing in Jesus Christ Superstar in high school. It was important to have milestone’s in one’s career, and as far as I was concerned, this was one worth remembering.
And if I’m being completely honest? I was still a little flushed from the sexy scene with Braden.
We didn’t have scenes like that in high school. A gorgeous, shirtless guy covering me with his body. Pressing himself into me, his hard-on impossible to hide. And the look in his eyes said he wasn’t just acting. It was more than that.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
The scene left me so hot-and-bothered that I opened the Tinder app on my phone. A friend had convinced me to install it two weeks ago, and I’d swiped right for an hour while drunk, but I never went back to check my matches. A friendly little notification popped up and let me know that I had seven. Now that rehearsal was over I had my real job to go to, but it was tempting to at least get the ball rolling on one or two of these…
Braden walked backstage. He was still shirtless, and his muscles glistened with sweat from all the movement and dancing. I wasn’t a dumb girl. I knew he was totally out of my league, and I’d accepted that. He’d never even spoken two words to me, or acknowledged my existence, before our scene tonight. With so many other beautiful women around, why would he?
But his eyes locked onto mine, and he jerked his head up in a greeting and walked straight toward me. I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“Hey, uhh…” he said. I realized he was searching for my name. We didn’t exactly wear name tags around here.
“Hey Braden,” I said to save him from his embarrassment. “Good work tonight.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I was coming to say the same thing to you, actually.”
My jaw dropped. “You, uh, really?” I said. “I know I need a lot of work…”
He shook his head and smiled. It was the kind of smile that disarmed women without even trying. “You did much better than the director implied. It felt like a real scene, not just whatever… uh, whatever Tatiana is doing out there.”
He chuckled, and I eagerly laughed with him. “She’s something, huh?” I said.
“It sucks you’re her understudy,” he said. “You’d be a solid choice for any of the speaking roles. Keep it up and good things will happen in your career.”
I wanted to protest, to tell him he was just saying that to be nice, but his simple compliment cut to my core and left me vulnerable. “Thank you,” was all I could say as he smiled at me.
“Sure thing. Have a good night, alright?”
He bent down to grab his own bag, retrieving a shirt. Half the cast glanced at him while he pulled the shirt over his head and tugged it down to his waist. Covering up those beautiful muscles was like someone using a remote control to turn off the moon at night; everything suddenly seemed less beautiful.
I don’t know what came over me. A flicker of courage ignited by his compliment. Or maybe the tingling feeling that still lingered between my legs where the weight of him had pressed during our scene…
