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‘Good,’ David says. ‘I was starting to think that just because you were named after the word “joy” you were incapable of feeling anything else.’
Once he says it, it becomes blindingly clear how much I’ve lived by that statement – that belief that I’m not allowed to be hurt, or sad, or angry. That I am undeserving of such emotions.
‘I’m so … so frustrated,’ I say, everything projecting out of me. ‘I’m tired. I’m sick of seeing comments about my skin, about being told I’m not enough, about not feeling like I’m good enough for this role, because I’m afraid of being perceived as not brown enough. I’m mad at myself for being so silent and afraid of saying what I feel. I’m tired of doubting my talent. I want to be confident.’
‘Hating yourself won’t change anything,’ Anushka says. ‘The only thing you can do now is change how you live life. No more being afraid. No more worrying about things you can’t control. I know it’s not going to be an easy change, not when thinking a certain way has become a habit, but I think things are going to be different for you now, Farah.’
‘And from now on, no more holding yourself back from our friendship,’ Nur demands, waiting for my agreement.
‘I promise,’ I vow, meeting all their gazes one by one. ‘You guys are stuck with me forever.’
‘Or at least until David gives in to his old age,’ Anushka adds.
Before David can retort, the seminar-room door swings open again. Zayan rushes in, taking long strides to reach us.
‘You’re having a group meeting without me?’ he asks. ‘Not one person replied to my messages. I thought you were all dead. You’re lucky I had David’s location.’
‘That seems a little dramatic,’ Ben says with a shrug.
Zayan’s mouth drops open at Ben’s nonchalance, and I know he’s gearing up to say more when his eyes land on me – taking in my likely-red eyes and puffy face. I don’t hide it. He’s seen it before. Before he can ask what’s happened, forcing me to rehash it all, I give him a small smile.
‘If one of you had responded to me, you’d have seen the link I sent,’ Zayan continues.
We all check our phones at the same time. I find myself staring at an Instagram post from the LSDCATS.
@TheLSDCATS: We’re not ones to believe in rumours, but after hearing some speculation about plays ending abruptly, we would like to invite any unfettered castmates to last-minute auditions for our play. We’re sure we can find you a role!
‘What does this even mean?’ I question, completely confused. ‘Who would leave our cast?’
Silence sits in the room, heavy and weighted. The longer it goes on, the more nervous I get.
‘Hello?’ I probe. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘They stole Gibitah from us,’ David blurts out.
‘Excuse me?!’ I shout.
‘Yeah, she texted on the whole-cast group that she auditioned and was leaving. The rest of them got immediately nervous, and now – now they’re also thinking about leaving.’
I can’t believe Gibitah would leave. It sounds hypocritical, because I left, but my reasoning was misguided. I can’t imagine why Gibitah would ever want to join the LSDCATS.
‘We need to find a way to make sure that no one else leaves.’ Anushka’s tone is urgent. ‘We need a way to make it clear to the LSDCATS that they can never attack us like this again.’
We fall into a quiet silence once more, each of us contemplating what we should do next.
‘What’s the one thing that would bring the LSDCATS down?’ Zayan asks. ‘What’s the one thing they fear?’
The answer hits me at once. It becomes so startlingly clear.
‘The truth,’ I say, heart hammering in my chest. ‘They’re afraid of the truth.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Outside the stage door of the Limelight, I am greeted by a star-bright sky, a full, cloudy moon and Gibitah. She stands with her chin tucked into her turtleneck, her arms crossed over her chest and a spiky sort of frustration draped over her weary shoulders. She looks up when she hears the door open.
I make my way towards her until we’re standing a few steps away from one another. Neither of us speak.
When I texted Gibitah, I didn’t think I’d get a reply. I’d asked her to meet up, and I’d been left on read. I also didn’t tell The Tragedies or Zayan that I was coming here today. Not because I didn’t trust them, but because this conversation was for Gibitah and me. This was our friendship – one that wasn’t a part of The Tragedies. One that was made up of sharing a stage together, spending rehearsal breaks together. A friendship that stemmed from a troubled beginning.
