Theseus, played by Charles, an unassuming blond, starts off with ease, the Shakespeare rolling off his tongue with the opening line. “‘Now fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour / draws on apace.’” Hippolyta, Theseus’ wife, and Egeus, Helena’s father, follow likewise, her voice soft and melodious, while his is boisterous and booming.
Then it’s Shane’s turn, and Adam leans in slightly, curious to see how he’ll sound.
At first, Adam is lulled by Shane’s voice. It’s a little quiet compared to the others who read before him, but it’s smooth, with a little rumble, as if he’s just woken up. The words fall from his mouth smoothly. “‘You have her father’s love, Demetrius; / Let me have Hermia’s.’”
And then it falls apart, before Shane even reaches the end of Act two. Adam almost doesn’t notice, so focused is he on both Oberon’s and Quince’s lines. Waiting off to the side, only Charlie and Shane hold the main stage. Shane then launches into Lysander’s next lines.
“‘O, take the sense, sweet of my innocence!
I mean that my heart unto yours is knit,
So that…’”
“Go back, Shane you skipped a line,” Violet calls from her seat in the audience.
On stage, Shane flushes a bit. “Sorry.”
“Just go back to the top.”
Shane nods, as Charlie gives him the thumbs up, and begins again. “‘O, sweet of my innocence…’ Shit. Sorry, again,” Shane scratches the back of his neck, taking a deep breath.
“Take it slow,” Violet says, leaning forward in her seat now.
“‘O, take the sense, sweet of my innocence!
Love takes the meaning in love’s conference
I mean that my heart unto yours is knit.
So that but one heart we can make of it.
Two bosoms interchained with an oath;
So, then, two bosoms and a single troth.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny;
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.’”
Adam frowns, momentarily distracted. Technically, it’s all the right words, but something seems off. Violet stands, calling for a stop again. She hops up on stage, clipboard still in hand and moves to stand with Shane and Charlie.
“Okay, Shane, that’s better. But you know, we need to put a bit more feeling into it. Charlie,” Violet turns to the girl, who nods. “Do you feel like he’s in love with you here?”
“Ah, not so much,” the other woman admits.
Violet gives an understanding nod, turning back to Shane. “Lysander seems like it’s a pretty easy role at first glance, but it doesn’t work if you can’t convince the audience that you really are running away with the love of his life and do comedy in the same breath. Like, he’s basically trying to seduce her here. So, try it again.”
Violet strides back off stage, as Shane nods, jaw tight. Once she’s in her seat, she gestures for them to go.
It doesn’t get any better, though. If anything, it’s worse, as every word from Shane’s mouth seems to come out flat and hollow, giving Charlie and the others nothing to work with. It doesn’t help that the more uncertain he seems to become, the less he seems to try.
Over the course of the hour, Adam’s jaw drops slightly while he watches Shane stumble over certain transitions, then it drops fully when he completely mispronounces something. Violet gently corrects him, as the rest of the cast turn to each other. At some point, Stefan raises his eyebrows at Adam as if to say What the hell? Adam shrugs back at him, equally bemused. Maybe just nerves, Adam figures.
But the rest of the read doesn’t get much better. As Shane fumbles, the actors playing across from him don’t seem too thrilled and begin to lose their own momentum. An hour in and halfway through act two, Adam’s somehow surprised that the rest of the cast hasn’t full on revolted yet.
In the middle of a scene between Titania and Bottom, Adam sidles up to Violet, who’s sitting cross legged on the edge of the stage, chewing on her pen, and writing notes on her legal pad. “Violet,” he whispers.
“What?” she says, tersely, never taking her eyes off the actors.
“Well, about this whole understudy thing…”
Violet waves both hands, just nearly missing stabbing Adam in the eye with her pen. “You’ll go on if he gets sick, Adam, or breaks a leg.”
“Oh come on. He can barely get through a sentence now.”
“Who’s the director here, Adam? Now go away, before I have to re-cast you.”
Raising his hands in surrender, Adam backs away. Still, the excitement for the first rehearsal seems to have vanished from the cast, dampened by the continuous stops and starts and Violet yelling every two seconds. At this point, he’s given her the thought. Eventually, if this continues, she’s definitely going to have to cave. They don’t have time to teach Shane how to act.
Adam almost feels bad for him. But not enough to stall his excitement.
The rest of rehearsal proceeds in much the same way. By the time the end comes, about two hours later, everyone looks frazzled and severely demotivated. Adam takes his time slowly gathering his things, eyeing his target. Shane and Violet are whispering with their heads together at the edge of the stage. Whatever Shane says upsets Violet, because she shakes her head fervently and begins to walk away. She doesn’t even glance at Adam as she stalks past, then all the way up the aisle.
Now, it’s just the two of them left. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Shane takes the steps off the stage one at a time. After the chaos of rehearsal, the theater is eerily quiet, and Adam can hear every single one of Shane’s footfalls.
Shane doesn’t appear to notice Adam, seemingly lost in thought as he grabs his bag. Adam can’t resist, moving closer. He calls out. “Violet looked really happy.”
Finally, Shane glances over. Adam can’t quite read his face, but he certainly wouldn’t call it delighted to see him. Shane shoulders his bag. “Violet’s only happy if she has something to stress about.”
“Like one of her lead actors flubbing his lines?”
Shane stops halfway down the aisle. “Yeah,” he says evenly. “Like that.”
It’s impressive that Shane’s able to keep a cool demeanor about him. Adam hums, following Shane up the aisle. At this distance, he’s reminded of how much taller Shane is. The man looms over him, backlit by the dim theater lighting, face mostly in shadow, hiding his expression. Adam has a feeling that, like Violet, Shane won’t be too happy to discuss changing roles.
Adam goes for the casual approach. “So, what’d you think of the first day?” Simple, easy question, between actors.
Shane, on the other hand, cuts right to the chase. “I know I sucked today. I don’t really want to replay the specifics of me sucking,” he heaves a sigh, clutching the straps of his bag. “Sorry, Adam, I have to go and work my last night shift at my bar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With a curt nod, Shane turns on his phone and follows the same path Violet did earlier, leaving Adam as the only one in the theater. Adam stands there for a moment, at a loss.
This whole secure-a-leading-role plan is going to be more difficult than Adam first thought.
Chapter Four
The sun is just beginning to crawl over the horizon, coloring the sky a bright blue when Shane meets Violet the next day. It’s 6:00 a.m. and Shane has just finished closing the bar. When Violet arrives at their meeting spot with dark circles under her eyes, and in the same shirt as yesterday, his mind is made up. “I’m quitting, for real,” he tells her, shouldering his backpack.
Violet barely casts a glance at him, already making her way down the street. This early in the morning, downtown Brooklyn is serene, nearly empty, except for a few early birds. “No way,” she says, now several feet away from him.
Shane stares at her back for a little too long, surprised by her insistence, before he realizes she’s ahead of him. With a groan, he jogs to catch up.
He falls into step with her. “Are you kidding me? Yesterday was awful. Let someo
ne else do it.”
Violet doesn’t break stride. Whether this is because she’s just that determined or that desperate for coffee has yet to be seen. “No.”
“Violet!” Shane sighs when she doesn’t answer. “Violet, come on.”
“Shane, if you really wanted to quit, you would just stop going to rehearsal,” Violet says, neither turning nor slowing down for him. “You don’t need my permission to quit. I don’t want you to, but clearly you want me to tell you you’re bad.”
Shane hates it when she makes a good point. She’s unbearable when she’s like this. “I was yesterday,” he argues.
“That was yesterday. Do better today.”
Like it’s that easy. Shane’s so frustrated, he barely even notices which coffee shop she’s led them to until they’re at the door. It’s the one Adam works in. Dreading the thought of seeing the smug barista, Shane hisses. “Violet, wait,” when she shows zero intention of doing so, Shane catches her by the wrist. “Let’s go to the Starbucks across the street.”
Shane doesn’t think he imagines the fires of hell flashing in Violet’s eyes. “It is 6:00 a.m. I am getting coffee,” she snaps, and whirls on her heel to stalk to the register.
Resigning himself to his fate, Shane trudges after her. The doorbell chimes lightly behind him as they enter the coffee shop, the register is being run by a woman with violet-purple hair, a nose-ring, and eyeliner smudged under her eyes like she slept in it. She regards them with a bored expression as they approach. Shane reluctantly follows behind Violet, desperately hoping that he’s not here.
“One latte and one black coffee, please,” Violet spits out, before the cashier even has a chance to say, “Good morning.”
The cashier seems to take it in her stride, though, and rings them up with a perfect customer service smile. “Eight dollars, please,” she sings, purple hair moving with each tilt of her head.
“You and your fucking lattes, Shane,” Violet shakes her head but slides the cash over.
Shane doesn’t retort, thinking they might be in the clear. But no.
A mop of curly hair hidden under a baseball cap and two calloused hands slide their cups over the counter. The dread bottoms out in Shane’s stomach as he’s certain Adam is going to rip him a new one for Shane being rude and dismissive yesterday. Bracing himself, he waits for whatever offensive remark Adam will come out with.
“It’s the chief and the giant,” Adam’s voice is much too cheery at six in the morning, the cheeriness of the devil. Even the purple haired cashier looks taken aback.
“Adam. I always forget you work here,” Violet sounds disdainful, but Shane decides to put that down to the no caffeine thing.
“I think I’m insulted, Cameron,” Adam says, placing a hand to his heart as he looks at the woman behind the register.
“You’re too soulless to be insulted,” the violet haired cashier says. She props her elbows on the counter and regards Violet and Shane with hawk-like black eyes. “How do you guys know this jackass?”
It’s almost strange to see someone interacting with Adam like he’s a normal person. But when he realizes the two are still staring expectantly and Violet seems unlikely to answer, Shane stutters. “Oh, uh, we’re in the same acting production together.”
Cameron squeals in delight, clapping her hands. “The actors! That’s all he ever talks about, you know. Are you teaching him about romance yet?”
Adam’s previous cheeriness disappears. “Oh, my God,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. “Ignore her.”
Now it seems like Adam’s unlikely to be mad at Shane about yesterday, Shane can’t resist. “Why? Does he need a lesson that badly?”
He’s delighted when Adam scowls. Some part of him is pleased to give the sharp-tongued man a little trouble.
“Oh absolutely,” the cashier’s eyes twinkle with mischief, not unlike how Shane imagines a fairy’s from the play might look. “But he’s hopeless, you know? I’ve tried for ages.”
Shane’s curious, but Adam jumps in before she can say anymore. “Cameron, I know where you keep your vinyl collection.
Cameron raises her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine.”
She flashes another wide smile before turning back to Violet and Adam. “So you’re both part of the acting crew? I heard the director’s, like, a real hard ass.”
Violet’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. Adam groans and despite being amused at Adam’s earlier discomfort, Shane inwardly groans with him. He thinks this might be the end of the other man’s life.
“A hard ass, huh?” Violet murmurs, taking a large gulp of black coffee. That her entire throat doesn’t catch on fire proves she’s truly inhuman.
“Please stop talking, Cameron,” Adam says.
The cashier is all too happy to ignore him. Leaning forward, she elaborates. “Yeah, like super intense and stressed, but you said she’s good at her job, right?”
Cameron addresses the last to Adam, whose eyes have glazed over, looking like he’s going to ascend to heaven any minute. Shane has the urge to pick him up and shake him to see if his soul is still there.
“I like to think I’m good at my job,” Violet tilts her head to look up at Shane. “Right, Shane?”
“You’re very good at your job,” Shane manages to choke out, though he thought he’d died of secondhand embarrassment moments ago. He catches Adam’s eye, who looks equally horrified.
Oh no. They just shared a moment. Shane quickly breaks their gaze, turning back to Violet instead, whose lips have curved into a pleased smile. “Well, as long as you both think so. Thanks for the coffee. I’m going to grab a table, Shane.”
Without another word, she turns and slides over into a table by the window, leaving Cameron, Adam, and Shane gaping. Adam removes his cap, looking a little haunted.
Cameron swallows. “Wow,” she whispers, a bit starry-eyed. “She’s nothing like I imagined.”
“I hate you,” Adam informs her, ruffling his hair, before replacing his hat. “She’s probably going to murder me now.”
“She’s a pacifist. I think you’ll be okay,” says Shane, unthinking.
Both coffee shop workers give him matching looks of disbelief. “How do you know that?” Cameron asks. “Or are you trying to pacify me so I’m not on guard when she does kill me?”
“And you said I’m dramatic?” Adam mutters.
Shane shrugs. “I’ve known her for nearly ten years. I haven’t actually seen her kill anyone yet.”
Adam raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Shane frowns. There’s an underlying satisfaction to Adam’s words, as if the man has just discovered his secrets, or like he’s found the treasure Shane’s been hiding all along. He’s feeling defensive for no reason. “Yeah, since college.”
“Huh,” Adam fingers the edge of his sports cap, peering out from under the brim. His eyes have honed in on Shane with catlike focus. “That must’ve made casting easier for her, right?”
It’s too pointed for Shane to miss his meaning. “Well, I was with her when she got the news that she’d be putting on the play,” Shane says, hoping his tone is steadier than he feels. “But I like to think that she cast me for other talents.”
Adam hums. “I’m sure we’ll see those eventually.”
An odd feeling begins to bubble in Shane’s stomach. “I’ll make sure of it. Excuse me.”
Before Shane can make his hasty escape, Adam calls, “Wait!” Shane turns back with dread, wondering what more Adam can say. But all Adam does is raise the coffee cup Shane forgot. Maintaining a straight face, Shane marches back to the counter and grabs the coffee. He jumps as their fingertips brush slightly, and Shane just stops himself from overturning the coffee on both of them. Snatching it, he makes a quick escape, hoping the heat in his face isn’t too obvious.
“This is why you don’t get any dates,” Shane overhears Cameron say, none too quietly.
As Shane claims his seat across from Violet, he completely
agrees with the cashier. For the first time in as long as he can remember, Shane almost feels angry. Over the last few days, he’d been on the fence about Adam.
Shane always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt and not put too much store in first impressions or other’s opinions. Kyle has his own reasons for not liking Adam and Violet seems exasperated by him more often than not. But the other actors generally have no problem interacting with the man, even if he always manages to get into someone else’s business.
After today, though, Shane can say without a doubt that Adam Weir is rude, frustrating, blunt to a fault, and possesses little to no tact. In fact, with his smug attitude and snarky tone, Shane’s surprised Adam finds anyone who could like him.
He clutches his latte to him, takes a sip, and is even more annoyed when he finds that it’s perfect. He looks up at Violet, who has her script and notepad pulled out, pen stuck between her teeth.
“Okay,” he breathes, as her eyes flicker back up to him. “I won’t quit.”
She removes the pen from her mouth, regarding him with sly eyes. “No?”
“No. I’m going to be the best damned Lysander you’ve ever seen,” Shane finishes his declaration with a sip of his latte.
To his surprise, Violet throws back her head and laughs. “Oh my god, Shane. That’s just dramatic enough, you’re starting to become a real actor now.”
“Thanks, I think,” Shane says, dryly.
Violet shakes her head, gaze latching onto the counter. From their vantage point, they can see Adam’s back as he prepares coffee after coffee in a routine fashion. “Did he say something?”
Shane doesn’t say anything, but Violet gives him an understanding nod, as if his silence is confirmation. She snorts, plopping her head on her hand. “That kid is something else,” her lip curls slightly, as if she’s caught halfway between admiration and disgust. “Never seen someone as committed to acting as him, though. He’s always a good presence to have in the cast, keeps everyone on their toes by memorizing all their lines.”
Standing Ovation: A M/M Contemporary Romance Page 4