by Jessie K
“Now! The dirty ends of business.” Matthew rubbed his hands together. “Since this wasn’t a requirement, not everyone in class auditioned. I’m also looking at my assistant director and stage managers in here, so I obviously cannot dedicate class periods to rehearsals. And I believe we discussed private rehearsals at the beginning of the year, right?”
Everyone nodded. Tiny bubbles of excitement grew within Lynn. Private rehearsals. She was going to have private rehearsals with Matthew.
“Every week, rehearsals will run Tuesday through Friday. I’ll need everyone’s availability to work out scene schedules. Be forewarned, those of you with active social schedules, the last month of rehearsal will be full cast. The schedule was posted at the time of audition, so I don’t want to hear any complaining about it. You’re all big kids, reading is a cakewalk now, am I right?”
A snicker came from the back of the class.
“Exactly. Okay, I’m going to call you one at a time to come up here and discuss availability for individual scene rehearsals after school. And before anyone gets any crazy ideas.” Matthew pointed to all of them in a sweeping motion. “All of the monologue scenes will be rehearsed on the same night. Don’t think you’re going to be able to monopolize my time, excessive good looks, and endless pool of career-jettisoning advice from the other students.”
“Awww man!” Brad Smith piped up from the back. “I was hoping for some sweet hair care tips.”
Matthew ran a hand through his hair. God, how she loved when he did that. It was ridiculous, this little motion getting her so hot and bothered, but it did. She focused on keeping up her mask so no one else could see her melting at the sight of him. But god, it was hard.
“Conditioner, Mr. Smith. It’s not just for women. Now, I’m going to start with my choral members and go from there. Please come see me at my desk when I call your name. In the meantime, feel free to catch up on homework for your other classes, or, if I’m being a realist, discuss Homecoming with your neighbors. Just keep it down, or I’m going to assign a paper on the underlying themes of self-harm in Romeo and Juliet, got it?”
The class mumbled in response. He called up small groups at a time, diligently filling his calendar with scheduling conflicts and listening intently to any questions the newly casted actors had. Lynn loved watching him work, the way his whole body poured into whatever he was doing. Be it schedules or directing a student to a particular passage in the text, Matthew seemed to come alive whenever theater was involved.
Emily Bronte’s words filled her mind: “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” Was he also her Heathcliff? Probably not; the tragedy of that path was enough to turn anyone away. Nonetheless, she understood Catherine. No one else shared her passion the way Matthew did.
Theater was all of him, theater was all of her.
The way his features illuminated reminded her of the way her heart leapt and how joy filled her breath whenever she was waiting in the wings of a darkened stage, waiting to come alive under the hot lights.
Now she had this amazing opportunity to take someone as iconic as Juliet and breathe life into her, to metaphorically slice her open and take her craft to new heights. Working one-on-one with someone as talented and experienced as Matthew was a gift. She had learned so much from him during their audition over the summer, but to actually be coached and directed by him, someone who had graced the stages she dreamt of, was an experience beyond her wildest desires.
That they would be spending time together, alone, was the sweetest icing on her cinnamon bun. Even if Romeo was forced to be with her—whoever he was. After seeing her name in the coveted role, she had lost all interest in the rest of the cast—she would still be in close proximity to her soul’s mate. And surely Romeo would need bathroom breaks, or have a conflicting schedule on certain days. Lynn would ensure her schedule remained wide open.
As wide open as she was willing to splay her legs for him.
Lynn swallowed back the arousal and flipped absentmindedly through her tablet, looking over the latest math homework she knew she would not turn in. Anything to pass the time until his beautiful lips finally called her name.
“Miss Viggiani, our Juliet. My desk, please.”
His tone was even, but she needed to see his eyes. Matthew was an incredible actor. She had watched him shift his entire being on stage for a role. His classroom may as well have been one large stage, too. She needed to really look at him and see what he was feeling under all the bravado he demonstrated in class.
When she approached him, she noticed his eyes dip into the lacy crevices around her breasts, that may or may not have been intentional, and a thrill tripped through her. He wanted her. He had to. His hunger may have been muted, but she could feel him practically vibrating around her. How could she not? They were the same. She understood him.
“Is this wise, you and I working so closely together?” Lynn whispered.
Matthew twirled his pen twice before meeting her eyes. The silence killed her. These next several weeks were going to be either the best or worst of her life.
“I’m absolutely certain it is not.”
Lynn shivered.
PART TWO
chapter four
Theater work was grueling. Several months had passed since Lynn had graced the wooden planks, black binder in hand, ready to shed her skin and become someone else, and the time away was evident. She endured group rehearsals with Aria, which were plenty and arduous, and with her Romeo, far from a plastic dolt, but still the mildly infuriating Aidan Nelson.
Matthew was full of incredible acting tips. At the end of the first week, her acting wings felt stretched and pulled, painful, but all for the best. What she didn’t have, however, was a lot of one-on-one time. Lynn assumed she would get a free pass from his No Individual Rehearsals rule, but he was adamant. Or so she thought, until Aidan began asking questions for their infamous balcony scene, referencing a previous rehearsal night that Lynn had not been a part of.
“Just give it a shot,” Matthew said. “When we went over it two nights ago, you really nailed the urgency of his desires. That’s what is important here for Romeo, don’t forget. There is an imbedded urgency. They hardly knew each other, but they fell hard and fast. He let his hormones interfere with his logical state, which he clearly had to have in order to continue with the Montague legacy.”
“Right. Letting my dick be my guide.”
Matthew snapped and pointed at Aidan. “Exactly. Your lust is serving as a compass, and in this scene, you’re being a moderate creeper with a really hungry dick. Shakespeare ties it up in pretty bows, but don’t let the flowery language fool you. If you’re prowling around a girl’s window in the middle of the night, what are you really looking for?”
Lynn shuddered at the grin eating up Aidan’s face. He was, for all intents and purposes, an attractive guy. He perpetually hovered near the top of the class academically, was student body vice president, and unabashedly displayed his theater nerd pride. Truly, Lynn liked Aidan and was happy he landed the roll rather than someone else… like Franklin Undersmith.
But Lynn didn’t want Aidan as her Romeo, she wanted Matthew. A ridiculous request? Definitely. She knew it was impossible and impractical and stupid, just plain stupid. Aidan was a great partner and a decent actor. She just didn’t want to picture Aidan hiding behind the bushes, grabbing his cock and fantasizing about her walking around half-dressed.
That was Matthew’s job, even if he pretended it wasn’t.
Because that’s all Matthew had done for the last several rehearsals: pretend he had no interest in Lynn. Never mind his warning that their personal rehearsals could be dangerous for the two of them. He was so intent on keeping things professional, there was practically a moat growing between them.
Lynn was a shitty swimmer. How was she supposed to ford the river and get him back? And now, now he was holding private rehearsals with everyone but her.
“Now. Our fair Juliet.
” Matthew rubbed his hands together. “You are a lot younger, keep that in mind, okay? Thirteen back then may not have been a catastrophically big deal, but the juxtaposition between these young, horny assholes versus the significantly older and more mature cast of family and friends is important. You two are making a dumbass mistake in the name of love and taking the whole ship down with it. As we’ve talked about, we can angle it as all Romeo’s fault, or look into the context of Juliet being so sheltered that she decided to break free from the establishment and take a go at her own life. This is important, because this is what determines how you react to his advances. Clearly, you want him. But how badly and for what reasons, is what you, as the actor, need to determine. Follow me?”
She nodded, making little notes along the white space of her script. Lynn understood this inner monologue to Juliet better than most. She, too, was on a family pedestal of expectations and Matthew offered the promise of something dangerous, exciting, and world changing. When he wasn’t avoiding her. She was willing to eschew tradition and expectation in the name of pleasure and freedom.
This, she determined, was her angle for Juliet.
“One second, kids.” Matthew held up a finger and checked his phone. “I need to step out and take this. Run through the lines here and think about your motivation. When I come back, we’ll discuss and do it again.”
Once he was gone, Aidan turned to her with a bright grin. “He’s intense.”
“I… yeah.” Lynn nodded, careful to keep herself behind a shield of innocence. “But in a good way? I never thought of Juliet like this before, you know? And we’ve had to study this stupid play in three different classes.”
“Yeah.” Aidan sort of laughed and scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t exactly excited about it until he discussed his vision in class. So. How do you want to do this?”
Lynn reviewed her notes. “Well, I’m leaning towards Juliet doing this to be on her own and eschew the Capulet legacy. Hormones are important and all, but a lady of her age and position would have been expected to do a lot. I think she shunned that life because Romeo promised her something the others wouldn’t—freedom, maybe a little danger, the opportunity to live life under Juliet’s terms. She probably hated being a Capulet. Women didn’t have many rights as it was, but to have these family rules on top of it had to really suck.”
“I like that.” He nodded. “You’re crazy talented. You know that, right? I mean, watching you own Juliet is really cool… and really intimidating. I just hope I can keep up.”
Lynn blushed. None of her classmates ever really complimented her, but the competition had always been fierce. “Thanks, Aidan. You’re doing amazing as Romeo. I think we’ll blow everyone over with this.”
“Okay!” Matthew pushed his way back into the room and clapped his hands. “We’ve got a few minutes left with Aidan, so let’s run through the balcony scene twice more.”
“Where are you going?” Lynn asked. She had no idea rehearsal was going to end early today, and struggled to hide her disappointment. They may not have been alone, but this was the only opportunity for her to spend some time with Matthew without having Aria breathing down his neck.
“Um. Appointment.” Aidan looked uncomfortable. “So, start at the top of the scene?”
Lynn didn’t push. She knew what it was like, having responsibilities and appointments no one wanted to talk about. Like the excruciating family therapy sessions her mother had dragged them to a few years back.
They ran the scene twice more. Matthew had positive feedback for them both, affirming he liked the direction they were “starting to move towards.” All in all, it was a great rehearsal. Aidan packed quickly and waved goodbye, but Lynn dawdled, wanting to draw out her time with her director who was keen on avoiding her.
“At least I’m on the right path, right?”
“Absolutely.” Matthew grabbed a chair and sat in it backwards, resting his arms along the top of the back. “We still have an hour, if you’re willing to work.”
She bit her lip, the only excitement she permitted herself to display, and nodded. “The balcony monologue?”
He nodded, still showing indifference to their sudden change in audience. “Let’s take what we’ve discussed tonight and really hone it. This is your first monologue, your first opportunity to let the audience in on the heartache and soul that is Juliet Capulet. Sell this and everyone will be eating out of your hand.”
She nodded, flipping through pages to the scene, pretending the images in her head were not of him eating out of her anything. Lynn cleared her throat a few times and took her place on stage. She focused on the new path she wanted to take with Juliet, and began.
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
“Okay, stop.”
Lynn jerked, surprised at his immediate note.
“What are you trying to do here?”
She thought a moment. “She…”
“You.”
“I am… airing out my thoughts. Discussing my innermost fantasies, I guess.”
He nodded, once. “Okay. If that is what you are trying to do, keep that in mind. Start again.”
She jotted down fantasies above the next and started again. This time she made it four lines in before he stopped her. And then six lines. And eight. Then back to four. Hiding her frustration became impossible as she felt angry heat crawl along her neck.
Matthew was a phenomenal coach, truly. Everything he said felt important and left her filling up the white spaces with notes instead of blocking, but the repetition was taking its toll. Goddammit, just let her do it.
“Are you sure I should have been cast as this part?” Lynn tossed her binder down and buried her face in her hands. “Because I apparently keep fucking it all up.”
“One hundred percent certain. But you don’t want to be a high-school actress forever, do you? If you intend to break out on stage, then start acting the part. You’ve got everything you need deep inside, Lynn. Reach for it. Unlock it. Rely on it.”
Lynn shook herself and took a deep breath before starting again. She made it all the way to, “What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot” before he called her out again. Lynn flopped to the floor and belted out a scream of frustration.
“The hallmark of a truly great theater actor is being able to deliver the same lines every night exactly the same way, without losing an ounce of emotion.” Matthew didn’t get up, but changed his tone slightly, more Pep Talk than Quit Sucking. “You have to repeat yourself night after night after night. The experience must be the same on opening night as it is on night number twenty-five. This is how you build a career, Lynn. Consistency. Emotion. Power. Do it again.”
Lynn closed her eyes and focused, just like she’d watched Matthew do the afternoon they auditioned together. She imagined young Juliet, so desperate for freedom and love and a life of her own. She pictured herself on that balcony, finally free to verbalize her feelings to Matthew, wondering why their titles, teacher and student, had to stop them from being together, and it clicked.
She made it through the entire monologue without stopping.
Romeo, doff they name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.
Lynn opened her eyes and exhaled, wiping away a tear. Matthew studied her for a moment, his face a mask of mystery. “Good. Again.”
It was a start. She did it again, this time letting tears into the end of her performance. Before she could open her eyes, he said, “Again.”
On they continued for what felt like an eternity. Lynn figuratively sliced herself open and poured herself onto the stage, begging for a Romeo she could never have to come and save her. And Matthew simply said, “Again.”
After her fifth delivery, his voice moved. She could hear him circling her as she delivered her lines behind the gracious darkness of her lids. When she finished, there was a scraping noise.
“Sit.”
A chair was waiting b
ehind her. She obeyed. “Does she have a chaise out on the balcony?”
“Not quite.” He was still behind her, but she felt a shift in his presence. “We are going to try an experiment, Miss Viggiani. I want consistency, do you understand?”
She nodded, chills creeping up her spine.
“Begin.”
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore are thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
He appeared in front of her, wolfish and prowling.
She swallowed hard.
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love—
Matthew dropped to his knees in front of her and motioned for her to continue.
—And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
He dragged his fingers across her skin, slowly up her legs. Oh, god. He was touching her. Really touching her. Lynn wanted to savor the feeling building in the pit of her stomach, to roll around in the closeness finally growing between them, but she feared he would stop.
’Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou are thyself, though not a Montague.
Matthew slowly pushed back her dress and she watched his eyes betray his stalwart jaw as he realized she was wearing no panties. When he touched her inner thighs, she gasped. He stood and backed away, crossing his arms.
“Again.”
Lynn closed her eyes and had to take a deep breath. So this was how he wanted to play. Perfect delivery meant he would finally give her what she wanted, what she’d been dreaming of from the moment he took her phone on the first day of class. Not only his touch—him. He was finally tearing down the wall he built between them, reaching out to her after turning gargoyle. This simple gift, this offering he presented, brought her to tears.
He said nothing, let her have her moment, and when she finally surfaced from behind her hands and took a deep breath, he said, “Begin.”
O Romeo, Romeo!