To the Moon and Back

by Melissa Brayden

  “You want to take our ten a little early?” Ethan asked her wearily, three hours later. He’d had a chip on his shoulder ever since she’d arrived to work, part of which she attributed to her absence, and part to the lack of cohesion between her and Evelyn. They simply weren’t in sync. He rubbed his forehead in a way that said his frustration with the scene was at a peak. They’d worked on the motivations leading up to the couple’s first kiss in act 1, but everything they tried seemed to fall flat.

  Carly turned to Evelyn for her opinion on whether to take the break but was met with only a half-hearted shrug.

  “Yeah, let’s do that,” Carly said to Ethan. She watched as Evelyn immediately fled the space they shared like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Evelyn had mentioned several times that she was straight, and maybe the female romance was harder for her. But based on the speech she’d made about the importance of such a play, it couldn’t have been the whole reason. Evelyn didn’t like her and had made it abundantly clear, which would be fine, if she would set it aside for the work. She hadn’t. Her contempt for Carly read in every moment they shared onstage together. The no-good morning had Carly in a mindset to look into it.

  “You have a second?” she said quietly to Evelyn, who was engrossed in something on her phone.

  Evelyn raised her gaze to Carly’s. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “To talk.” She leaned against the wall next to Evelyn and geared up. Suddenly, she had a shot of nervous energy move through her, but this was too important a conversation to sidestep. If they could get past whatever conflict was between them as actresses, then maybe they could still turn this thing around. “I feel like we’re not connecting in the scenes.”

  “You don’t, huh?” She glanced back down at her phone, making Carly feel about two inches tall. “Trust me. We’re doing fine. We still have two weeks left, and you’re just out of your element.”

  Interesting response. “What’s my element, exactly?”

  Evelyn gestured wildly with her phone in the open space before settling on a phrase. “Hollywood. La-la land. None of this is your speed, but it’s what I do for a living. I happen to have great respect for the process.”

  “And you think I don’t?”

  “No, I know for a fact you don’t. I think you’ve shown all of us that you’re a spoiled, pampered celebrity who cares more about herself than the larger good of the production.” She let her phone arm fall to her side as she straightened. “Go back to Hollywood, little girl. Let us handle the hard stuff.”

  With that, Evelyn strolled back to the rehearsal set, leaving Carly clutching the wall and reeling. No, she wasn’t just clutching and reeling. She was also crying. Tears had pooled in Carly’s eyes, which mortified her no end. Only six-year-olds cried, and she would not let Evelyn see the effect of her words.

  “And we’re back, everyone,” Lauren announced to the company. Carly stayed right where she was, still in the room, but removed from the action. “Carly, you all set?” Lauren asked in a quieter tone.

  Carly didn’t move. She couldn’t, out of sheer humiliation. She wiped the tears that now stained her cheeks, but she wasn’t making much progress in shutting down the waterworks. This was awful.

  She heard footsteps behind her and Lauren appeared. “I think we’re ready to get—What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just need a minute. Is that possible?” she whispered, doing windshield wiper hands. “Maybe I could go wash my face?”

  Lauren nodded, squeezed her arm, and moved back to the larger group. “Can we maybe skip to the Mandy at work scene, act one, scene four?”

  “Not a problem,” she heard Ethan reply quietly. “Is she…?”

  “She’ll be fine,” Lauren said. “Just needs a minute. Allergies.” For the first time, Carly was overwhelmingly grateful for Lauren’s professionalism and owed her big-time for running cover. “Carly, why don’t you take fifteen, and then we’ll regroup.”

  “I’ll be back in under ten,” she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking. This wasn’t like her, but the pressures, the insecurities, the fear that she was continually letting everyone down weighed on her like a two-ton brick upon her chest. This whole process was so much harder than she’d anticipated. She was a good actress, but this required a level of depth and commitment that had her on her heels.

  She stared at her red-rimmed eyes in the bathroom mirror moments later, as she splashed some water onto her face. The cold helped zap her out of her paralysis and self-pity. She had to be honest with herself. She’d been horrible since she’d arrived, and it was no wonder veterans of the stage like Evelyn had taken offense. This was her crossroads moment, however, and it was Lauren’s voice she heard in her head. You have to make changes to your approach to life, to your work. The sentence repeated over and over, and each time she heard it, it resonated more powerfully.

  She somehow made it through the remaining hours of rehearsal, even cradling Evelyn’s face in her hands and looking into her eyes as if she was the most precious person in the world. She’d survived. Ethan had given her a shoulder pat on his way out at the end of the day, which hopefully meant she’d been forgiven. Evelyn had breezed the hell out of the room, apparently standing by her earlier assertion. As for Carly, she lingered, taking her time changing her shoes, packing up her belongings.

  After a few minutes, it was down to just her, Trip, and Lauren in the room.

  “You got this?” Trip asked Lauren. “I promised Wilks I’d back up the house manager for tonight’s performance. He’s a fill-in tonight and not entirely sure of our procedures.”

  “I got it,” Lauren said. “Go play house manager.” They then engaged in some kind of secret handshake that made her smile to herself.

  Once they were alone, she dropped her bag and approached Lauren. “I can help.” She didn’t wait for an answer but instead went about assisting Lauren as she reset the rehearsal furniture for the scene they were scheduled to start with the next day.

  “This is unexpected,” Lauren said, tossing her a glance. “I don’t generally have my lead actors schlepping the furniture. You okay? Feeling any better?” She said it with kindness, and it meant the world to Carly.

  She felt the uncomfortable lump rise in her throat again. Something about Lauren checking in on her made her crumple, like when her mom used to pick her up from school after she’d had a bad day. She’d just blurt it all out in one giant release. Her safe place. “I’ve had better days.”

  Lauren straightened, abandoning a chair midtransit. “Did Evelyn say something to you earlier? You can tell me, you know.” The soft green eyes made her believe it.

  Carly exhaled slowly, and it all came gushing out. “Only that I was out of my league, spoiled. She called me a little girl and told me to go back to Hollywood.”

  Lauren’s head dropped. When she raised it again, her features carried compassion. “I’m sorry she said those things to you.”

  “But you agree with her. You said so earlier. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m doing here. I’m a joke.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re keeping this production afloat. That’s what you’re doing here.” She picked up the chair again and went on her way.

  Carly laughed beneath the dark cloud still looming. “Yeah, you and I both know that’s not true. I’m trying to pass as someone who knows what she’s doing.”

  “You’re a good actress,” Lauren said plainly. “You bring a lot of bullshit with you, and people put up with it, for that one reason. You’re amazing at what you do.”

  A tiny breeze could have blown Carly right over. “Wow. Thank you.”

  “And after our trouble today, it means a lot that I’m complimenting you. It means that what I’m saying is true. So you have to ignore Evelyn, because the play is blossoming with the work you and Ethan are doing. She’s been the problem, the one not committing to character.”

  Carly was mystified. It was so rare to get to hear Lauren’s actual take on
things. Carly wanted to know more, needed to. She longed to know what music she liked best, who her early influences were, what she did at night when she left The McAllister. There was so much ground to cover, but first she needed to internalize the words Lauren had just gifted her. “Thank you for saying that. I feel like I keep trying to connect with her, but it goes nowhere, and it’s hard to develop an onstage relationship if you’re getting nothing back.”

  “Let me know if you ever need someone to run lines with you. That’s actually part of my job, believe it or not.”

  “Really? You do that? I thought when you said so that first day of rehearsal you were just being polite.”

  “I wasn’t. I do it all the time. Most stage managers do.”

  That pulled Carly up short. Running lines would actually be incredibly helpful. She’d worked on her own in her apartment, but she hadn’t had that extra person to read with her. The only time she’d been afforded the chance to work on a give-and-take was opposite Evelyn, and that had been only stressful.

  “It’s not uncommon, actually. Especially with wordier shows, like this one. The playwright had a lot to say.”

  Carly sighed. “You have no idea. When are you free?”

  Lauren glanced around. “As soon as I’m done putting the room in order.”

  Carly couldn’t believe her luck. “Well, then I will help you in repayment.” She spent the next few minutes following orders and enjoying seeing Lauren in her element, in charge, and with a plan. Just when she thought Lauren couldn’t get any more attractive, she had to go and own a very simple task.

  Once they slid the rehearsal couch up against the wall, Lauren grabbed her script, grabbed a spot on that couch, and tucked her feet beneath her. The overhead fluorescents in the room were off and a floor lamp provided soft illumination. “What scene would you like to run?” Lauren asked.

  “The last scene we ran today, with the teakettle, and the talking a lot line?”

  “Act one, scene four.”

  “Yes, that one. I felt like I was all over the place and not zeroing in on my objective or the connection to Mandy. At that point? It should be undeniable that these two are meant to be, and it just…isn’t.” It was the last scene before intermission, when the first version of the couple was at their peak of happiness, the moment a romance novel would have come to a close. The goal, as Ethan had described it, was to build the couple up as so in love, destined to be together, that the audience is dumbstruck to see them miss out on the relationship entirely in act 2 and instead witness how their lives play out if they’d never met. “If there’s no lost relationship, the narrative fails. Nobody will care.”

  “Got it,” Lauren said, as she located the scene. Carly, newly off-book for act 1, didn’t need her script.

  She looked over at Lauren, who would be reading the first line in the scene. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “So, we’re doing this?” Lauren said, reading the line as Mandy.

  Carly, as Ashley, took a deep breath. “Do you know what you’d be getting into? I let teakettles whistle too long on the stove. I scream when spiders show up. I know I’m not the easiest person to love. I’m pretty sure I just lost my job, and my cat moved out. I’ll probably be homeless myself in a matter of—”

  “Ashley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re talking a lot.”

  Carly grinned. She liked the way Lauren said that line, with a kind of playful affection. She’d never heard it delivered that way. It gave her a shiver. She kept going. “Should I stop now?”

  “You should definitely stop,” Lauren read. “I have a lot of things to figure out, but one of them is definitely not you. You’re staying.” She’d lifted her gaze to Carly’s for that last line and inspired another shiver. Carly was struck—this was what it was supposed to feel like between them.

  As they got farther into the scene, Lauren brought warmth, comedy, and a very human vibe to the character of Mandy. Carly felt like she’d stumbled upon a gold mine with this rehearsal session, as it informed so many new choices she hadn’t yet considered. When they finished their fourth run-through of the scene, she stared at Lauren, who still sat on that rehearsal couch against the wall.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Lauren asked, with a curious grin.

  Carly shook her head. “I just didn’t see that coming. Have you ever acted before?”

  Lauren sighed. “It’s all I ever wanted to do when I was younger. Be onstage, tell amazing stories, hear the audience applaud.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t meant to be.”

  Carly didn’t understand. She moved to the couch and took a seat next to Lauren. “Why do you say that? You’re fantastic at it.”

  “I don’t know that I would go that far. Didn’t get many jobs. Make that one. A voice job for a nightclub commercial that aired only on the radio. I played the part of a happy college girl, thrilled with the drink options.”

  “I’d buy those drinks based on what I just heard.” This whole concept was blowing Carly’s mind and her entire perception of Lauren. “You were out there auditioning? What happened? Why would you give up if it’s what you wanted?”

  Lauren nodded, and embarrassment flashed. “I tried to make a go of it. Didn’t work out.” She shrugged, as if stuffing down the regret of what had never been. “After a while it became clear that I was on my way to being a professional waitress and part-time out of work actress. What I really wanted was a way to pay my bills in the midst of something I love.” She gestured to the space around them. “And here I am. The learning curve was steep, and I started at the bottom, but I like to think I’m damn good at my job.”

  “You are. Don’t get me wrong.” Carly tucked a knee beneath her. This new information had her keyed up and intrigued on top of the high she’d just received from the nuanced scene work. “Tell me about a favorite role of yours.”

  Lauren laughed. She was so pretty when she did that. “I can tell you about the time I received my first lead role. We did Peter Pan Jr. in middle school. I was cast as Wendy, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’ll never forget the afternoon I saw my name posted on the cast list.”

  Carly was rapt. “Get out. What happened?”

  Lauren beamed. “I rehearsed night and day and counted the moments until the curtain rose. Not to mention, the entire town would be there, including my extended family who’d driven in.”

  “And you were a hit,” Carly supplied, imagining Lauren wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfection.

  “No. Actually, my performance was fine, but my nightgown snagged on the set during the flying sequence and brought the whole thing tumbling down. Children and nightgowns and Lost Boys scattered for safety as I swung back and forth, dragging the wall.” She grimaced as Carly laughed. “I probably should have taken that as a sign it wasn’t meant to be for me. Unfortunately, it took a little longer for me to get the message.”

  Carly tried to stop laughing, but the image of young Lauren sitting in a pile of rubble while an audience looked on in horror was too much. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “I wish I had been! Would have pulled attention away from the disaster.” She exhaled and relaxed against the couch with a tired smile. “The boy playing little Michael was traumatized, though. We’d brought him in from the elementary school. Broke into tears and cried in the arms of Tiger Lily. I’m hopeful the therapy he required helped, some.”

  Carly was dying. Wheezing. Gasping for air. Yes, she was punchy already after such a roller coaster of a day, but the images Lauren painted certainly contributed. “Please tell me there are photos.”

  “Oh, there are videos,” Lauren deadpanned.

  “My kingdom for this video. What is it you want? A car? A house? I can make your dreams come true. Except that’s a lie. My movie money is dwindling.”

  “I wonder why,” Lauren mused with a grin. She extended her arm across the back of the couch between them, which made things feel extra cozy. “If we s
urvive this production without you single-handedly causing me to pull my hair out, I will make that video happen for you.”

  Carly tapped the top of Lauren’s hand with her finger. “Promises, promises.”

  A pause. “But I remember what it was like to take on a role, rehearse, and lose yourself for a little while. There’s nothing like it.”

  Carly touched Lauren’s knee. “You should give it another go sometime.”

  “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t miss it a little, but I think I’ll stick with my steady paycheck, and organizing all of you people. How’s that?” She stood. “It’s getting late. We should clock out before we have to be back in the morning.”

  Carly nodded, feeling so much lighter than earlier in the day. This was the first time she and Lauren had just…relaxed together. Chatted about life. She found it refreshing and couldn’t help but crave more.

  “And this is okay? To run lines with you again in the future? Because I’d really like to.”

  “Completely. Just let me know.”

  “Before rehearsal tomorrow? I can come in early and we can—”

  Lauren held up a finger. “You’re a liar and you know it. You’re incapable of the word early.” She’d said it in a bossy but playful tone, and hand to her hip. Carly wanted to kiss her right then and there, then lose herself with Lauren on that couch, slowly. Very slowly.

  “I’ll be here at nine tomorrow,” Carly informed her, as she headed to the door. “I can help you and Trip set up as we run lines.”

  “Sure you will.”

  “You’re gonna be shocked. Wanna walk out with me?”

  Lauren gestured to her laptop. “I better get that rehearsal report out before heading home.”

  Carly shook her head. “You work too hard.”

  “Do you think that’s it, or do you think maybe you don’t—”