“All of them?” Shane has barely had time to memorize his own at this point.
“Yeah. I guarantee you, he would put on a one-man show if he could,” Violet rolls her eyes. “Plus, he loves working with people on their lines. When he’s in a show, that’s practically all he thinks about.”
“And you cast me instead of him,” Shane feels the anger mostly drain out of him. No wonder Adam was always giving him a hard time. Still, he doesn’t have to be a dick about it.
Violet sips her coffee, eyes thoughtful behind her glasses. “Call it director’s bias, call it wanting to work with a different talent who has a lot of promise. Call it not wanting to give him what he so clearly wants, because if you give his type what they want too soon or too early, their egos get even bigger. Whatever makes you feel better.”
Shane mulls that over, eyes drawn back to the counter. Despite being short, Adam’s shoulders are broad. Shane can see his shoulder blades move under a rather tight black work shirt as he works the espresso machine. Idly, Shane wonders what would happen if you ran a finger from Adam’s neck down his spine. It’s frankly annoying how striking the barista is, even with his terrible attitude.
“Don’t worry too much about him,” Violet says, waving her hand like she’s batting off a mosquito. “He’ll calm down eventually.”
“Sure,” Shane replies, though he has a suspicion Adam has never been calm in his life.
“Anyway, get out of here and get some sleep. I’ll see you at rehearsal later.”
It’s only when she mentions sleep that Shane realizes how tired he is. Between the stress of the terrible practice yesterday, a full bar shift, and now the rollercoaster of wanting to quit and not quitting, he’s exhausted. “Right, I’ll see you later.”
“And don’t you dare try to quit on me again. Otherwise, I’m firing you from the best friend position,” Violet warns, jabbing her pen at him.
“But not the play?”
“No, that would just be giving you what you want.”
Shane laughs and finally bids Violet goodbye.
As he’s leaving, an odd feeling crawls up his spine. He feels like someone’s watching him. But when he looks back, Cameron’s nowhere to be seen and Adam’s back is firmly turned.
* * *
After sleeping most of the morning and afternoon, Shane thinks he’s ready for anything. He arrives back at the theater in high spirits, armed with new resolve, thanks to his run-in with Adam that morning.
He doesn’t count on the rehearsal room being oddly tense when he arrives that afternoon. Most of the actors are gathered in small groups, catching up with each other. He exchanges small nods with everyone, but no one waves him over.
Shane, not for the first time in his life, wishes he was smaller. He feels like his entire body is a target as he makes his way across the stage.
“Hey, Shane,” Charlie hobbles up to him, foot wrapped in a boot, crutches abandoned to one side. Today, she’s wearing a torn and paint splattered shirt that says live punk, die emo.
Shane’s flooded with relief that she’s still talking to him. “Hey, Charlie. How’s the foot?”
“Fucking itches man. Plus, the pain pills they gave me are fucking terrible. They make me so sleepy,” scrubbing a hand through the back of her undercut, she pushes her blonde fringe further over her right eye. “How about you? How are you feeling after rehearsal yesterday?”
Shane eyes her, uncertain how much the other cast members have already said, but her expression doesn’t give much away. “A bit rocky,” he finally says.
“I figured. You gonna be okay?”
Shane forces a smile on his face. “I’ll be fine,” he tries to imbue it with confidence, but Charlie only nods doubtfully. He decides to switch gears. “How about you with the foot? Will you be able to perform?”
Charlie scowls, leaning over to knock her fist against the top of her boot. “Yeah, they say it was a small break and should heal in six weeks. I like to think of it as extra luck.”
“That’s a bit corny.”
“We all need a little corn for the ‘speare,” Charlie says, nodding her head sagely. “Cornspeare.”
It makes absolutely no sense, but Shane can’t help but laugh, so relieved Charlie isn’t outright ignoring him. That would have made rehearsing even worse.
His humor is short lived when Adam splits from where he’d been talking to Grace, sports cap from earlier slightly askew atop his head. “Kyle’s shit stirring,” he says, with no preamble. A disgruntled frown pulls at his lips and he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t even know how he manages to do that when he wasn’t even here yesterday.”
Frankly, Shane’s confused that the other actor is talking near Shane, let alone to him. It’s like no matter how much the other actor clearly doesn’t like him, he’s always around just in case, to tear Shane down.
“It’s truly a gift,” Charlie says. “Happens when you’re old and Cynthia won’t bang you anymore.”
Adam chokes out a laugh, but quickly gathers himself back together. “Whatever. He’s a gossip and a dick.”
“What’s he saying?” Shane surprises even himself when he asks.
Adam looks up at him, arching his eyebrows, as if to wonder how do you not know? “You sure you want to know?”
Charlie slips her arm under Shane’s elbow, patting his bicep with her other hand. “You can’t bring it up and not say anything else, Adam. Come on, Shane can take it.”
Adam looks doubtful, but concedes. “You know Violet’s a crap director and fumbled her casting, and clearly doesn’t know how to give direction to newbie actors with not enough talent. Oh, and Shane was only cast because he knew her before.”
“That’s basically what you said earlier,” Shane points out.
“When?” Adam asks, seeming genuinely surprised.
Seriously? Did this guy just blank out when he was being insulting? “This morning?”
“Oh,” Adam waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, but that was between us, and now Kyle’s being an asshole and I hate that guy.”
“That seems a little selective of you,” Shane says, beginning to suspect Adam says so many insulting things he can’t remember half of them.
“You’re here to prove yourself and work, aren’t you?” Adam asks.
It’s Shane’s turn to be surprised and nods.
Before he can say anything, Adam spreads his hands. “Then it’s fine. And you know, if you fuck up, I’m right behind you to take your place.”
“Damn. There’s more drama here than in the play itself,” Charlie removes herself from Shane’s arm, balancing on one foot. “I definitely need to be more stoned for this.”
“Don’t we all,” Shane mutters, eyeing Adam warily.
A loud clap resounds, and everyone turns to see Violet making her way to the front of the chairs below the stage. “Okay, guys, let’s go from the top! Blocking this time.”
There’s a hint of stress already creeping into her voice, which she compensates for by throwing it louder. Shane doubts anyone else notices, though, and everyone is quick to take their places for the beginning of Act one. Only the core actors are left on stage, as the non-essential ones filter off to join Violet in the seats.
Adam claps Shane on the shoulder as he follows the others, parting ways. “Loosen up, big guy. Otherwise, I’ll take your spot,” he calls cheerily.
It’s quick, but the touch leaves tingles shooting up and down Shane’s arm, and he’s anything but loose when he takes the stage again. It doesn’t help that his fellow actors are eyeing him with looks ranging from clearly doubtful to outright irritation. Looking out into the collection of doubt aimed toward him, Shane wishes he hadn’t told Violet he’d decided to stick it out. The anger he felt, fueled by the desire to prove Adam and the others wrong, fizzles out under their harsh judgment.
He can only stare out at the stage as he feels his throat closing up. As the opening lines begin, Shane tries to shift his atten
tion to the words on the page. They seem to move in front of his eyes, blurring in and out of existence.
A soft hand falls on his elbow again. This time, it’s Charlie, a sympathetic grin on her face. “My foot’s broken, so I’m counting on you to help me out there, okay?”
Shane takes a deep breath and nods, offering his arm to Charlie. These people were counting on him to get it right. And he made a promise to prove Adam wrong. Even if his heart is pounding and his brain wants him to go hide in a hole, Shane can’t waste anyone else’s time.
Charlie’s cue comes first and they hobble out together, with Charlie supporting herself on Shane. It’s only due to her arm on his bicep that he doesn’t trip or run away. It’s a bit like a grim wedding, where no one’s happy to see who the bride is marrying, and the groom’s entire family has abandoned him.
After that, his mind goes a bit blank. It’s like he’s on stage but he’s not. He’s certain words are coming out of his mouth, though he’s not aware of what they are. Violet is shouting at him intermittently to pay attention to the blocking, and to keep on rhythm. “No, don’t turn upstage, turn toward the audience,” and the entire time, he can feel eyes boring into him. Eyes of the other actors on stage, eyes of Violet, but when he looks up from the stage, his gaze always falls on one person’s unwavering attention, that he swears he can feel even from feet away.
Adam neither smiles nor frowns when Shane meets his stare, and perhaps that’s why Shane keeps looking for him in the audience. Something about his gaze brings Shane back to himself, reminds him where he is. Sound once more hits his ears, just as his first large chunk of lines comes about.
“‘I am my lord as well derived as he,’” Shane says, and there’s a defiance to the words. Lysander is defiant in the eyes of Egeus, and Shane is defiant in the eyes of these actors.
He finishes, gaze still on Adam. It’s like the entire world has shrunk to just the two of them staring at each other.
Violet’s voice breaks through. “Better, Shane,” she says, and his heart nearly stops in relief. “Remember to focus on the other actors during that part. Let’s run that back one more time.”
Shane nods, feeling quietly thrilled. Emboldened, he turns back to the other actors, exchanging a small smile with Charlie.
“Nice, man,” she says, punching him on the shoulder.
Still, Shane is relieved when he can finally walk off stage. Feeling almost drunk, he stumbles toward the seats and, without thinking, plops directly next to Adam. At first, neither says anything, as Charlie and Grace begin rehearsing the fight scene between Hermia and Helena.
As Shane recovers from the unsteady feeling, he finds himself stealing tiny glances at Adam. The other man is still concentrating completely on the actors, and Shane doubts he even notices his own stare. His eyes trace the curve of Adam’s neck, the sharpness of his jaw, but mostly, and he’s struck by an intense urge to take Adam’s head in his hands, just so he can stare into his eyes again.
The other actors have slid into easy side chatter, some talking about the script, others returning to conversations from earlier. Adam, however, who Shane usually sees engaging one group or another, or picking a fight, is completely engaged in watching Kyle, Cynthia, and Puck work through their scene, starting and stopping at Violet’s directions. It’s fascinating in its intensity.
Finally, as Violet calls for a stop during Charlie and Grace’s second scene, Shane leans over slightly. “I’m surprised you’re paying so much attention to a scene that’s not yours.”
Adam jumps a little, nearly turning halfway around in his seat. His eyes are blown wide open, and even in the darkness, Shane can see the flecks of green. “Huh?” he says smartly.
Shane licks his lips, feeling a little awkward now. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything? But Adam seems to come back to himself, shaking his head. “Why shouldn’t I pay attention to it?”
“It’s not that you shouldn’t. I guess I’m just surprised considering no one else is,” and that Adam never shuts up. They’ve reached a truce of sorts it seems, so Shane resists adding the last part out loud.
“Oh,” Adam settles back into his seat, resting his head on his hand. “Well people should. It’s a good time to learn.”
“About the play?”
“No, about other actors,” Adam raises a finger, pointing at Grace, whose blonde hair is illuminated by the stage lights. “Like, Grace, she acts with her entire body. Something’s always in motion for her Helena. But, Charlie’s Hermia is all prim, proper. A bit closed off. It’s a nice contrast and you can see why Violet picked them.”
“Huh,” Shane’s impressed, now able to see first-hand what Violet meant earlier. It’s a good observation, and definitely not something he would have noticed. “I wouldn't think you’d care about that sort of stuff.”
Adam frowns. “Why not?”
“Well…” Shane hesitates to break the peace they’ve established. Still, he doesn’t think Adam would take lying well. “You know. You seem pretty focused on your own scenes a lot.”
“I like to get the whole picture, that’s all. And to see where I fit in,” Adam chews on his lips a bit. “Acting is my dream. But I still have to work hard at it.”
“I never said you didn’t.”
Adam ignores him and continues. “You’re going to have to work much harder, too,” he turns parallel now, thrusting his chin upward to look Shane directly in the eye. “Especially with as many lines as you have, if anyone notices you’re not good…”
Jaw dropping slightly, Shane interjects. “Excuse me?”
“Then the show will suffer. You’re going to have to put in the work eventually.”
Shane bristles. He had thought Adam had come around to his side this afternoon, but clearly, he hasn’t gained any faith in him
“I am. It’s only day two. I’m going to get there.”
“It’s not about just showing up. You’re barely present.”
When it’s clear Shane can’t readily think of a response, Adam turns back to the stage.
What did that even mean? Shane scowls, unsure of what he wants to say but knowing that he wants to argue with him. This anger, which is quickly becoming a little too familiar, frightens him. He’s never met a person that pushes his buttons so quickly, and he’s uncertain why Adam’s bluntness seems to do so.
Just as he opens his mouth to form a retort, there’s a large crash and Grace lets out a scream. Suddenly, smoke begins to rise…the stage is on fire.
Shane groans, thinking it sums up the week nicely.
Chapter Five
The stage light fire seems like a sign from the heavens and the smell of rubber stings Adam’s nose. Adam shoots Shane a tense look before the two of them are springing out of their chairs. Onstage, Kyle is yelling and trying to put the fire out with the shirt he’s quickly ripped off. This seems to only make it worse, and Cynthia drags him away, pushing him toward where the rest of the actors are filing out. The smoke alarm has only just begun ringing and Violet is shouting at everyone to get out of the auditorium, hair waving wildly and phone to her ear.
Adam’s almost grateful for it, though, since it cut his and Shane’s conversation short. Every time Adam makes one of his usual comments, he feels like he’s kicked a puppy.
The fire trucks arrive rapidly and with much fanfare, as the entire cast is scanned for injuries. Outside, the cast huddles in the burning Brooklyn sun as the firemen descend upon the building, quickly putting the fire out. Adam wipes sweat off his face, wondering how the hell the stage is going to hold up after that.
“If it’s not one thing, it’s another,” Kyle, cigarette in hand, kicks at the brick of the building as he observes the firemen going in and out to assess damage. “Between Charlie’s foot and now the fire, the play is practically cursed at this point.”
Cynthia, hugging her wiry frame, whips her head around, nearly smacking Kyle in the face with her hair. “Oh stop it, you cantankerous old man.”
&nb
sp; Kyle shrugs, takes a drag from his cigarette. “I’m just saying. And one of our leads can’t act for shit.”
It’s essentially the same thing Adam said earlier, but it immediately puts him on edge. Shane, back turned, standing over with Charlie and the firemen to ensure she’s alright, doesn’t seem to have heard. But there’s something about the stiffness of his shoulders that makes Adam round on Kyle, and before he knows it, his feet are carrying him until he’s standing right in front of him.
Behind him, Cynthia’s eyebrows raise, and her mouth thins, taking on a stern look of What do you think you’re doing? He ignores her in favor of focusing on Kyle’s smug half-smile. Remembering what happened the last time Adam got into a fight with Kyle, he takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm. “Maybe, you should focus less on stirring up superstition and just memorizing your lines.”
In the back of his mind, Adam wonders what the hell he’s doing. On the one hand, he agrees with Kyle to an extent, but on the other, he can’t stand by while Kyle rags on someone else.
Kyle takes another drag of his cigarette and when he removes it, blows the smoke directly in Adam’s face. Adam clenches his fists and reminds himself that punching other cast members does not make a good impression on anyone. “You the director now, Adam?” when Adam doesn’t say anything, Kyle nods self-assuredly. “Look, kid, you can’t tell me you believe he’s any good.”
Adam desperately wants to say yes, but he’s never been good at lying. “Just try not to be a dick and mind your own business.”
“You do the same, Weir, and I will, too,” Kyle throws his cigarette down, stomping it out with his foot and trudges away.
Adam forces himself to unclench his fists and take a deep breath. Five years, and he still wants to punch Kyle Travers in the face every time he sees him.
“Sorry about him,” Cynthia walks forward, a pensive look furrowing her eyebrows. “To be fair, he’s not completely wrong about the last part.”
Adam sighs. “The parts are all set. What’s the point in even fighting over it?”
Standing Ovation: A M/M Contemporary Romance Page 5