Understudy

by Wy, Denise Kim

  Everyone held hands and took a bow. We did it three times since people wouldn't stop applauding, and it felt good.

  When everything finally died down, people started dispersing, grinning as they talked about how great the show was.

  Eric led me backstage still holding my hand and I heard someone scream, "See you guys at the party!"

  Eric stopped and looked around to see who it was, but there were a lot of people so he just gave up.

  "How were you able to get your parents to agree to the party?" I asked.

  "They didn't."

  "But−"

  "They're barely home, and what they don't know won't hurt them," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And besides, throwing a party is easy, especially if you know the right people to call."

  "Then how come you seemed to be against it at first?"

  Eric shook his head. "I'm not really against it. It's just that I have attended a lot of parties, enough to fill a whole lifetime. It gets boring."

  "Yet you decided to host this one."

  "Because you challenged me."

  I was about to point out the way he talked about spontaneity, but there was something about the way he looked at me that melted the words away from my tongue.

  "You always challenge me, you know that? I wouldn't be up there if it weren't for the way you looked at me the first few months I came here."

  "How did I look at you?" I asked.

  "Like I amounted to nothing."

  I didn't expect that. "I... Wow, I'm sorry..."

  "Look, it's okay," he said. "It's what made me realize that I can do better if I want to be better."

  "So you went to become a Broadway star?" I said, trying to make light of things.

  "No, that's something I'm really good at."

  "And apparently, you're good at making your own props. You seem to be athletic as well, and you read books. You can do anything."

  Pain flickered briefly in his eyes, though it was gone as soon as it came. He took a step forward.

  "No, I can't." He finally let go of my hand. "I wish I could, but I can't."

  His words flooded me with a familiar sense of sadness, like somehow, I felt exactly how he felt.

  He placed his hands on my shoulder, and it was in that moment that I realized that I needed to be held. There were so many emotions running through my head that it felt like I was being pulled in all directions. I was happy with how the play came out, I was sad that I couldn't tell Sara how great she was, I was disappointed that I wasn't able to record the whole thing for Adam, and finally, I was confused between choosing the right thing over something that felt right and wrong at the same time.

  My breathing started to hitch as I tried to deal with one emotion at a time, but the erratic beating of my heart felt like a ticking time bomb, squeezing the air out of my lungs. I needed to choose. So I decided to choose something that felt easy. Something spontaneous.

  I decided to let go.

  I let Eric kiss me.

  Chapter Twenty−Five

  For a brief moment the world had ceased to exist. The ticking in my chest had stopped as well, allowing me to focus on how soft and gentle his lips were, as I felt my worries slowly drifting away. It only lasted a few seconds, but in that short span of time I was jolted awake by the realization that I had already fallen too far.

  I opened my eyes and took a step back. I felt disoriented, like waking up in someone else's bedroom.

  Everything around us was still moving, people congratulating each other for a job well done. It was as if we weren't even in the room.

  "I can't do this," I said.

  Eric looked at me, his expression guarded.

  "I can't do this," I repeated, as if doing so could undo the last few seconds. But it was too late.

  Eric ran a his hand across his face, exhaling as he did. "Why?"

  "Because I can't!" I said. "I shouldn't have done that."

  "Why?" he asked again, louder this time. "Because I'm not Adam?"

  Adam's name felt like a stab in my stomach, and the fact that Eric was right about it twisted the blade deeper, spilling my guts.

  I didn't answer. I didn't have to. I whirled around looking for my bag. I had to get out of here. But there was stuff everywhere and people were scrambling for their belongings. It was chaos.

  "What are you doing?" Eric asked, following behind me.

  I didn't answer. Hot angry tears streamed down my face and I concentrated on looking for my bag to keep myself from losing control.

  "You can't just walk away like that!" he said, his voice seething with anger.

  I kept ignoring him, but then I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Kat−"

  "I'm looking for my freaking bag!" I said, recoiling from his touch.

  He didn't answer, and I was so angry that my hands were shaking. People were starting to stare, and I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. I needed air. I had to get away from all these people. From him.

  I gave up searching for my bag and turned the other way, elbowing my way through the crowd as I eyed the exit. When I finally reached the double doors, I pushed it open and took off.

  ***

  Running felt as natural as breathing now. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, I couldn't get to Adam fast enough. It was like moving in slow motion. My side started to burn and my chest felt like it was going to explode.

  When I finally reached the woods, the sun had almost set. I leaned on a tree as I sucked in a lungful of cold air which scraped my airways like a dish scrub. Still, I took every lungful like it was my last.

  My face was still wet with salty tears and I immediately wiped it dry with the back of my hand. I didn't want Adam to see me like this. Ironic, since he was the person I went to whenever I was a mess.

  I expected him to emerge from the trees, or to suddenly appear behind me so he could wrap his arms around my body. But he was nowhere to be seen. I waited for a while with fear slowly brewing in my chest.

  Adam was always there when I came. He had never let me wait for him.

  "Adam?" My voice trembled, and my hands started to feel cold, though I doubted it had anything to do with the cold weather.

  I pushed myself deeper into the woods, thinking that he might be waiting by the lake. I began shouting his name.

  "Adam!"

  Adam, Adam, Adam.

  The sound of my voice startled me, and it took me a moment to realize that it was just an echo.

  "Adam!"

  Adam, Adam, Adam.

  The sky was growing darker and I felt myself shiver. I stumbled a few times but I kept moving.

  I almost didn't recognize the lake when I saw it. Without the sun, the surface looked still and the dandelions looked dried and shriveled. It was hard to believe that this was the same place Adam had brought me a few months back.

  "Adam!"

  Adam, Adam, Adam.

  My body went numb and my palms started to sweat. I had no way of actually knowing, but standing there alone in the darkness, something told me that Adam was gone, for good. I wanted it to be untrue, but as the seconds ticked by without him showing up, the more I was convinced that he really was gone.

  A familiar sense of dread filled my chest and I felt the tears building up. As much as I tried to avoid it, I had been imagining this moment. In a way, I was preparing myself for it, but, pain is unpredictable. Just when you think you're already immune to it, that having felt it before exempts you from succumbing back to its unforgiving waves, it comes back in a tsunami swallowing you into its belly and sucking up any hope you may have had of trying to be whole again. Because when you were tossed and turned repeatedly the first time, you knew you were broken for good. That no amount of time and healing could make you whole again, not when the very person that made you complete was gone.

  I sank on the ground and hugged my knees, holding myself together as the first wave of grief hit me squarely on the chest, knocking my breath away. Tears rolled
down my face and I stared at the lake until I could no longer see it.

  I wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he didn't say goodbye or the fact that he disappeared the moment I needed him the most.

  But one thing was certain. He disappeared because of me, just like how he died because of me. Everything was fine until tonight. When I decided to listen to Eric and let go.

  I finally understood why I was scared to tell Sara about him. I was scared to hear the truth from my own lips. Because even before this night happened, I was starting to let go, slowly loosening my grip. And by the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late. I slipped.

  I had fallen for Eric.

  Chapter Twenty−Six

  Eric

  I sat at the top-most step of the staircase surveying the room like an emperor observing his subjects. People came in groups, starting out shy and reserved at first. I wasn't sure if it was because of the haunted rumors or they weren't sure if I was serious about the party.

  In less than fifteen minutes, our upscale minimalist living room, as my dad fondly called it, was transformed into a New York inspired bar complete with laser lights and DJ's pumping out remix after remix that almost made me want to join the crowd dancing downstairs.

  Drinks also came out in endless supply, resulting in bottles and empty Dixie cups lying around abandoned on Mom's Persian rugs. I made a mental note to pay the cleaners extra to make sure that everything looked exactly as it was before the party. The last thing I needed was for my parents to get home to a house resembling a frat house.

  But there was a small part of me that wanted to do just that. To see the anger in my dad's eyes as I shrug and tell him that I don't care. That I had stopped caring about everything when they started pretending that they understood what it felt like to lose something that made you whole. No amount of therapy and out-of-the-country vacations could fix me, not even Adam's empathy. And even that was gone. I always thought that I had nothing more to lose. I was dead wrong. You could lose someone with something as simple as a phone call, or something as simple as a kiss.

  I closed my eyes and brought myself back to that moment, remembering how she looked at me with those big brown eyes that made you want to wrap your arms around her because she looked like she was about to break. But she also exuded a kind of strength she seemed unaware of.

  The kiss was just an ordinary kiss, but it felt extraordinary. It was like tasting honey for the first time. It was like being unshackled after years of captivity. I felt free, and though she didn't say it out loud, I know she felt the same.

  "Hello, Tiny Tim."

  I opened my eyes and squinted against the darkness as I tried to make out the image in front of me. It took me a moment to realize that I was staring at a girl's chest. I raised my head to see the face it belonged to. It was Amanda.

  "You do know how to throw a great party." She was wearing a dark tank top and a short skirt. It was the exact opposite of the modest dress she wore on stage earlier. I remembered how pissed she was when Kat showed her that dress and I couldn't help but smile.

  Amanda bit her lip and batted her eyelashes. I had to admit that she was pretty, and I could've let her play this game her way if I met her a year ago. But everything had changed. I wasn't sure who I was any more.

  I stood up so I was now towering over her, and that seemed to please her more.

  "You were great earlier," she said, lightly touching my arm. "Who knew you were such a great actor?"

  It would've been easy to let my guard down. I had encountered a lot of Amandas in my life. Just give them what they want, a little lip action, a little flattery and maybe go all the way. It was easy. But I couldn't do it. Not when I couldn't get Kat out of my head.

  I wanted her to be the one standing in front of me. I wanted to wipe her tears dry and make sure she never shed them again. I already missed hearing her voice, and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

  But it wasn't Kat's smile I saw when I opened my eyes. It was Amanda, and she was pulling me forward, her lips slightly parted, and I could already taste them in my mind. I looked the other way.

  I didn't notice Sara at first because of the poor lighting and the swirling neon laser beams, but as our eyes locked, my mouth suddenly felt dry.

  "No, it's not what you think," I said. I wasn't sure if she heard me, but she dissolved into the crowd before I could get my shit together.

  "Who the hell cares what she thinks?" Amanda asked.

  "I do." I yanked her hand away and followed Sara down the hallway.

  The number of people seemed to have doubled over the last five minutes and I had to squeeze myself into the crowd just to get to the other side. The scent of alcohol combined with sweat and pot smoke filled the air making me dizzy, and I thought I heard someone throwing up.

  Sara was standing by the window with a phone pressed against her ear. Her eyes widened when she saw me and she put the phone down.

  "Seriously? You go around flirting with other people just like that?"

  "I wasn't−"

  "After you kissed Kat?"

  "You saw that?"

  Sara rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Everybody saw that."

  "And you saw that she ran away, right?"

  "And that gives you an excuse to make out with other people?"

  "Look, I wasn't..." I ran my hand across my face. I didn't want to talk to her about Kat out here. "Can we talk in private?"

  "So you can make out with me too?"

  Couldn't she just answer with a yes or a no? "Is that what you want?"

  This caught her off guard. It took her a moment to respond. "Hell no!"

  "Then shut the hell up and follow me."

  I fished out a key from my pocket as we walked towards the door at the end of the hall. Sara couldn't hide her curiosity as I unlocked the door.

  "I don't want people to come in here."

  When she didn't answer, I pushed the door open and slid my hand against the wall for the light switch.

  Sara stayed in the door frame, looking doubtful.

  "Look, I'm not breaking in okay? This is Adam's room."

  Sara visibly stiffened at the mention of Adam's name and I wondered if she was one of those who believed that the house was haunted.

  "It's okay," I assured her. "I locked it so no one can go in and do stupid stuff like play Ouija boards or something."

  This seemed to convince her as she finally took a step forward. But she stayed by the door. Her eyes wandered around the room, and I found myself doing the same.

  No one had touched any of Adam's stuff, and if anyone entered his room and saw his clothes strewn all over the floor, and the open textbook resting on his bed, they would surely think that he was still alive. That he'd come back any time and clean up his stuff. My parents were among those people, and though I didn't say it out loud, I was too.

  Sara turned her attention to the dark object resting by the foot of Adam's bed.

  "Is that...?"

  "She was looking for it," I said, grabbing Kat's bag and handing it to her. "Thought I'd stop by her house to give it to her."

  Sara held the bag over her chest. "That's not a good idea," she said. "Considering the circumstances."

  She was right. I didn't think Kat would want to see me. But that couldn't stop me from trying, right? No one had ever stopped me from doing what I wanted before, except of course for that one thing.

  "I like Kat," I said, the words tumbling out even before I thought about saying it out loud.

  Sara blinked at me, unfazed. "I like her too, but I don't go around kissing her."

  "No, of course not." I would've liked Sara as a person if it weren't for her mission to hate me. I could see how she became Kat's best friend. "I mean I like her."

  She didn't answer this time, but she pressed her lips together so tight I was worried they might not open again.

  "I like her and, as silly as this may sound, I think I love her."


  I waited for Sara to lunge for my throat. When she didn't, I continued. "I know she still loves Adam and that she still misses him and everything. But I'm willing to wait. I know I'm not like my brother. I've done things that I fully and truly regret, but Kat isn't one of them. I'm not a patient man, but I'd wait for her. I just want to know if there's something to wait for."

  The silence that followed felt ominous, and I realized that I'd rather hear Sara get mad at me. I wasn't sure if the lack of verbal attack should be taken positively or not.

  Sara hoisted Kat's bag over her shoulder as she reached for the door knob. But before she left, she stared at me for a long time, assessing me from head to toe.

  I have no troubles being watched on stage. Because no matter how harsh the criticism may be, people are going to judge you by the way you bring a fictional character to life. But having someone watch you and judge you by your personal character based on the words you deliver, that's a different matter altogether.

  Sara took a breath and glanced at her watch. "You could've told her that instead of wasting my time," she said. Then she turned around left the room.

  "Thank you," I called out, though I wasn't sure why.

  "I still don't like you though!" she answered back without looking at me, and I thought I heard the smile in her voice.

  Chapter Twenty−Seven

  Kat

  I couldn't remember how I got home that night, nor how I ended up in my bathtub soaked from head to toe still wearing my clothes.

  All I knew was that I was staring at the tiled wall without really looking at it. I was numb, and my mind was blank, like a new canvas waiting to be painted on. Maybe it was shock, or maybe I had finally reached the point where I exhausted my body's ability to feel anything.

  I closed my eyes and slowly lowered my body in the lukewarm water, submerging myself. It was quiet, but it wasn't the kind of silence that detaches you from the world, but not enough to free you from the weight of it.

  I thought about staying there until I ran out of air. It would be painful, but what is a few minutes of agony compared to an eternity of nothingness? Adam died a more gruesome death; drowning would be easier. All I had to do was to let go. And that's exactly what I did when I pushed the remaining air out my lungs and watched it bubble up to the surface and disappear.