Play Dirty

by Jessie K

  PLAY DIRTY

  By Jessie K

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  Play Dirty

  Copyright 2015 Jessie K

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Part One

  PART ONE

  chapter one

  “Parsons and Whitney!”

  Matthew Flint jerked his head up from his lines, suddenly very aware of the dampness under his arms. The pair at the end of the row stood and walked up to the bare stage.

  Matthew watched them nod at each other and take the stage. She wore a knit parka, while he came in a man bun and a lip ring, of all things. Neither exactly fit the roles, which made him wonder if they even knew who the playwright was or what the damn thing was about. He mentally checked them off his competition list.

  Man bun? Come on.

  Someone nudged his shoulder. He glanced over, and then did a double take.

  A gorgeous brunette in a very low-cut dress had just sat down next to him. She seemed too young for him to be ogling this overtly, so he dragged his gaze up to her eyes.

  “I’m Lynn,” she said. “You’re Matthew, right? We’re paired up.” His partner flashed a bright smile. She had tiny dimples in her cheeks.

  Matthew decided in an instant he loved dimples.

  What had he done right in a previous life to get paired up with this little angel? She ran her fingers through her long hair, distracting him.

  “Yes, I’m Matthew.” He extended his hand, but it was awkward at that angle, so he did an overelaborate body turn. She giggled.

  “Sorry, you’d think I’d be used to this after fifty-seven thousand auditions, but I always turn into a mess before I go on stage,” he told her.

  Lynn leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, carrying the soft scent of rosewater. “I put on fifty-seven thousand layers of deodorant before I left home, just in case.”

  “Maybe I should borrow some of yours.” He winked and the dimples reappeared.

  Lynn went back to running her lines, but Matthew couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She must be new to the circuit because she was a foreign beauty in the cattle calls. A face as flawless as hers would be worthy of a memory. Plenty of beautiful girls flooded the streets of Broadway, yet they lacked the natural beauty and youth Lynn carried.

  He should really be running lines.

  Every fourth or fifth line, he found himself staring at her again, picturing her lips delivering these lines. The last time he auditioned a romantic scene, his partner was a card-carrying lesbian, which would have been fine if she hadn’t also been militant as hell and spent the entire audition scoffing at him.

  But this time … Well, this time, he wouldn’t have to dig so hard to fawn all over her.

  Matthew skimmed across the script, captivated by the way her pink mouth formed the words soon meant for him.

  Two words caught his attention and snapped him back to the business at hand: ‘passionate kiss.’ Just for a moment, his pants got a little too tight. He shifted uncomfortably and tugged on the fabric, aiming for nonchalance.

  Lynn cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “All the waiting turns me into a mess.”

  The dimples faded as a forced smile took over her youthful face. He wanted them to come back.

  “Oh, no! I nail it every time. Just, you know, pre-stage jitters.”

  “Me, too, but I haven’t had the experience of fifty-seven thousand auditions. This is actually only my second.”

  “Stick with me, kid.” Matthew winked and the dimples returned. “Want to step out and run these together? We’ve got a few more ahead of us.”

  She sighed in relief. “Please. I’m certain I’m going to screw it all up without going through it a few times.”

  He led her out to the hallway. A few other pairs dotted the walls, discussing blocking and enunciation. Those types made him batty. Matthew was more of a wing-it kind of guy, but that likely explained his low audition-to-callback ratio.

  “Here?” Lynn pointed to a secluded corner.

  Matthew felt his pants tighten again as he nodded. Passionate kiss. He let her take the lead, following her as she moved across corners. This playwright was one of his favorites, a local guy who built worlds on gritty characters and unique plots.

  Heaven Under Fire was no exception. Matthew would literally kill a hobo if it meant landing a role in this show.

  In this particular scene, they were fighting over his drug use and recovery. Lynn was the perfect Fiona–funny, charming, and brimming with passion. He found himself losing his place again as he watched her profess her undying love to him… er, to Vance Gray. As she listed his transgressions, he caught a taste of her innocence, but she was so damned convincing.

  “You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m not the same man, Fiona.’”

  “Sorry.” Matthew offered a light laugh. “You’re just so good in this role. I forget I’m in the scene, too.”

  Dimples returned. What he wouldn’t give to touch them. Probably kill the same hobo.

  “I’m not the same man, Fiona.”

  “Why can’t you just listen to me?” Lynn crossed away from him and he followed.

  “I listen to you every time that gorgeous mouth opens.” Matthew grabbed her by the waist and held her close. “You’re just too headstrong and stubborn to notice.”

  She slammed a fist against his chest. “I am not headstrong. You’re impossible.”

  This was it, building to the climax—their kiss. But instead of excitement, he grew nervous. Lynn was gorgeous, but obviously too young for him. Here he was, pushing thirty, and she looked like a breath of fresh air.

  As badly as he wanted to, he couldn’t kiss this girl. He remembered how everyone thought when they were in their baby twenties; it would be like her kissing her grandpa. He would be that old guy she had to kiss. No thank you.

  It pained him to pass up on an opportunity like this, but someone this captivating and youthful wouldn’t want to kiss someone like him. And even if she did, he couldn’t promise he would let it end there. This was running a little too real.

  “I think I’m doing that wrong. Can we back up?”

  Matthew nodded, relieved he didn’t have to reject the girl or deal with the embarrassment of having her shun an old guy like him. While he had a healthy ego, she was too pretty to stomp all over him and not cause harm.

  They ran through the fight a few more times, Matthew helping her run blocking. He needed to at least look like a goddamn professional. They were on the fifth run, each time breaking before the kiss, when the stage manager popped her head out of the door.

  “Flint and Viggiani!”

  Lynn had that deer-in-headlights look about her, so Matthew took her elbow and waved to the stage manager. Fuck, he really needed to remember her name.

  “You’re going to be great.” He whispered. “Just keep focused. And if you get lost, follow me. I clearly pay attention well.”

  She smiled at that. As they made their way to the stage, Matthew became acutely aware of the heavy silence in the room. This was his favorite part, the nerves before the leap. When he was a kid, the high dive was his favorite part of the pool. Something about the stomach-dropping fear made him feel strong and powerful. He got a taste of that every time he walked on stage.

  Only this time, he had a beautiful brunette with perky, young breasts waiting for him. That dress was going to be the death of him.

  Before they climbed the stairs, Matthew took her hand and squeezed. “Break a leg up there.”

  A devious smile grew be
tween her dimples. “I can’t wait to kiss you.”

  He stared in shock as she climbed onto the stage. He had to hurry after her to prevent himself from looking too much like an idiot.

  “Lynn Viggiani. I’ll be reading Fiona Watley.”

  “Matthew Flint, and I’ll be reading the role of Vance Gray.”

  The director, hidden in shadows, extended a hand for them to proceed. Lynn took her place stage left, and Matthew moved to the back of the stage to pantomime opening a door. This was where all his years of training really took off. Maybe he didn’t like to fret over otherwise meaningless blocking in an audition, but characters were his thing.

  Matthew may not have been a druggie, former or current, but Vance Gray was a man on a quest to redeem himself. It was no different than Matthew’s own quest to the stage: each audition was another milestone, requiring him to bleed himself out onto a gaffer-tape-marked wooden floor, in front of directors and producers and stage managers who decided he wasn’t quite the right fit. Vance Gray was like his freaking spirit animal, Fiona his muse.

  Lynn made a gorgeous muse.

  Matthew cleared his throat and stepped through the invisible doorway. He made to slam it and staggered forward into his scene. “You bitch!”

  Lynn spun on him, full of fire and ice. “Don’t you dare call me a bitch, Vance. Don’t you dare. Karma’s the bitch here, not me.”

  “You know what you did.” Matthew sneered back. He tried to picture Lynn as one of his fleeting opportunities, something to chase after like Vance, but he was drawn to her beautiful face and … well. Anyway.

  He closed his eyes to focus.

  He was Vance.

  He was angry. “How could you do this to me, Fiona? After all the shit we’ve been through.”

  “What did you expect me to do? The police were banging down our door with your name on their lips. Should I go to jail because of your addiction?”

  “I would never hurt you or bring you into this. Never. Why do you think I’ve worked so hard to get clean? Goddammit, have some faith in me.”

  He snuck a glance into the audience and watched a pen fly across a notepad. Notes were always such a toss-up. If only he could really see the director …

  Goddammit. Focus.

  Matthew slipped back into Vance Gray, seeing the stage through his eyes. Instead of the taped up stage, he saw the broken living room of an old trailer. Instead of Lynn, he saw a beaten-down and angry girlfriend whom he wronged. It was time to kill it.

  “I bust my ass, day in and day out, just for us. For you.” Matthew flung his hand backwards and Lynn winced. “I bust my ass, my balls, my back. Everything is for you, Fiona. Not one goddamn other person. You see these hands? These hands were made for serving you.”

  “Those hands were made for hitting pipes and women. You don’t love anyone but yourself. You’ve been a selfish bastard since the day I saw you standing in the Dairy Freeze, and I curse that day. I curse it, Vance, because it means I got stuck in this shitpit with a shitty life.”

  “I’m sorry it’s not a castle.” Matthew ran a hand through his dark hair. He had intentionally left it long, curling at the edges, with a matching goatee, scruffy as Vance would be. “I’m sorry I can’t make you a princess. But I’m doing what I can, and I should be given credit for that.”

  “The police, Vance! Explain that, if it wasn’t the crack.”

  Matthew took a deep breath and forced his eyes to the stage, the dirty floor of the trailer in his mind. “I … can’t.”

  “Get out. I’m done with you, I’m done with the drugs and the booze, I’m done with all your lies and deceit. I can’t handle this anymore. We used to be on top of the world, but that whole world is nothing but embers. I’m not fireproof anymore. I can’t survive any more burnouts.”

  “I’m not the same man, Fiona.” Matthew’s heart picked up speed. This was it, barreling towards their passionate ending. One glance at Lynn told him she was excited, too. He had to rein himself back in to finish the scene, keep his pants lax and his mind focused.

  “Why can’t you just listen to me?”

  Matthew stood behind her. “I listen to you every time that gorgeous mouth opens.” He grabbed her by the waist and held her close. “You’re just too headstrong and stubborn to notice.”

  She slammed a fist against his chest. “I am not headstrong. You’re impossible.”

  Blood ran hot through his veins. “Fiona, I love you. I love every inch of this perfect skin. I love every hair on your head. When my heart beats, it beats to your name. I swear on my life, lain out before you, that I am clean and innocent.” He dropped to his knees and took her free hand with his. “My old life is gone, locked behind a key and drowning at sea. I can’t take back the past, but I can fix our future. Just believe in me.”

  Lynn’s beautiful blue eyes filled with tears. “Vance, please let me go.”

  “Tell me you don’t love me anymore, and I will walk out this door. I’ll walk out of this town and never steal sight of you again, Fiona.” He rose and took her by the shoulders. Under the bright stage lights, she looked like an angel. “Say it. Tell me you don’t fucking love me anymore.”

  “I don’t fucking love you anymore!” Lynn grabbed the collar of his shirt and pressed her sweet mouth to his. Matthew lifted her up to his waist, holding her tight and letting her devour him. This surpassed a stage kiss, this was magic wrapped around the tongue of a gorgeous girl. He lost himself in her, forgetting the stage and Vance and Fiona.

  Lynn rocketed him to a place where it was just the two of them, where the floors spun and an erection was begging to burst from the prison within his jeans.

  He could do this every day. Oh God, could he do this every goddamn day.

  She finally broke it off, leaving Matthew slightly shocked from the absence of her. He helped her slide down him, taking care to lift her off of him and set her down gently before she could get too close to the bulge in his jeans.

  They stood side by side and bowed their heads slightly, completely in sync with one another.

  “Thank you.” The headless voice floated out from the seats.

  They exited on the opposite side of the stage and were funneled into section with the others who went before them. Man-bun high-fived him as he took a seat. Somehow during their crabwalk across the tight aisles, he lost her. Matthew looked around but Lynn was gone.

  He tried to push down the disappointment chewing up his chest. This was just an audition, their time together was finished. Expecting her to stick with him was silly and he had always parted ways with his scene partners in the past.

  But this time, he couldn’t shake his attachment to the brunette whose kiss made him pitch a tent in the middle of a crowded theater with his potential employer.

  Matthew stretched out in the chair and tried instead to focus on his competition. He had missed several auditions while running lines with Lynn in the hall, but there were plenty of others to whittle down. He knew for certain he was better than a solid seventy-five percent of the males auditioning for Vance.

  He didn’t just perform the role, he was the role. So many of these guys were choppy and robotic or bland; they lacked the soul needed for a man as complicated as Vance Gray.

  How would the blond in skinny jeans handle the role when he went spiraling down the drug trip? He didn’t look like he could dominate a woman the way he dominated Fiona in that scene.

  Just like that, his mind shifted from sizing up performances to undressing Lynn and throwing her onto his bed, exploring every inch of that nubile girl, owning her with his lips and tongue. She was like snake venom, tearing up his system and shutting everything else down. A girl hadn’t been able to take ownership of his mind like this in years.

  Not since Nadia.

  Not since his last show.

  He gritted his teeth and pulled his focus back to the stage. In some ways, Nadia was a lifetime ago, but she had taught him an invaluable lesson: don’t let love interfere with y
our craft. What started off as the best sex of his life turned into a nightmare rapidly spinning out of control. She slept with directors, stagehands, his fellow actors, anyone she could to further her career in New York City. She’d just neglected to share this information with him while sharing his bed.

  Matthew became a goddamn laughing stock and had to leave his last company. His career went down the shitter because of a girl with fake tits and faker commitment. As innocent as Lynn looked, he hadn’t expected Nadia to screw him over, either.

  “Never trust a starving actress.” That was what his old mentor told him during his MFA program. Words he needed to heed this time and forever, even if he could be missing out on the best pair of tits he’d seen in a long time.

  This was his career on the line. His dick could mind its own business until after callbacks.

  Finally, the last pair left the stage. Vivian, the stage manager—Matthew made a mental note to remember her name this time—took their place.

  “On behalf of Director Lewis and Greg Ficcus, thank you again for your time and hard work. We’re on a tight deadline with this show and I hope you are all flexible and ready to get to it. We’ll begin calling callbacks within the next few hours, so don’t venture too far into the city. Once you get a call, you’ll have approximately 15 minutes to arrive back at the theater or your absence will constitute a pass on the role. Everyone get something to eat and we’ll see some of you again shortly.”

  Everyone got up and shuffled around, collecting their belongings. With just his portfolio in hand, he joined the stream of hopefuls to say goodbye and thank the director for his time.

  One last chance to make an impression and secure a spot on that callback list.

  Matthew kept an eye out for his Fiona, but Lynn was lost in the crowd. There were so many brunettes it was impossible to tell them apart.

  Disappointed, but keeping to the words of his mentor, he continued with the flow down to the local bars, ready to calm his nerves with a stiff drink and a plate of onion rings.

  Definitely not with his gorgeous scene partner.