STAGESTRUCK - The Complete Series

by Ward, Alice

  “Awww, but Mr. Dylan, you’re my mom’s favorite. When we watch you on T.V., she reminds my daddy that you’re on her list. I don’t really know what that means, but it must be good because it makes her really happy.” A little boy named Xander told him.

  I don’t know how Dylan and I managed to keep straight faces, but we did. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make sure my schedule is clear next Monday and I’ll stay as late as you all want me to.”

  The offer appeased the kids and Dylan and I hugged them all goodbye before sneaking out the back entrance of the building. As I stepped out into the alley, I was blinded by flashbulbs. I groped for Dylan’s arm and listened to the voices around us.

  “Dylan, we were surprised to hear that you’re doing youth work. With your grueling schedule, how do you find the time?”

  “Kate, how did it feel to see the kids again?”

  “Dylan, how did the kids react when they saw you?”

  My eyes refocused and I saw that we were surrounded by a group of reporters and cameramen. I smiled and nodded, just as Dylan had taught me, and tried to pull him towards the street. Dylan remained rooted in place, wrapped an arm around my waist, and pulled me back to him. I was surprised when he addressed the reporters.

  “Kate and I both value the work of the youth theater program. These kids are the future of our industry, of our art form, and I’m happy to have the opportunity to work with them. Yes, our schedules are grueling, but being here is like taking a breath of fresh air. The kids teach us more than we could ever teach them. And I must say, I’m so happy that I’ve found someone who shares my passions.”

  Dylan leaned down and planted a firm, forceful kiss on my lips and the flashes started firing again. He pulled away, said goodbye to the mob, and finally headed for the main street.

  “What the HELL was that?” I snapped once we were clear of the reporters.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He innocently replied.

  “First of all, how the hell did anyone know where to find us?” I demanded.

  “I made a call.” He shrugged. “I figured it would make a great human interest story. The kids get us, we get publicity. It’s a win win.”

  I shook my head. “It’s exploitive and wrong.”

  “Who am I exploiting? It’s not like a pranced the kids out and held a photo shoot. We did a good thing. Some reporters got an anonymous tip and caught it on camera. The fact that we’re getting a little good publicity doesn’t negate our motives for being here.”

  “That’s exactly what it does!” I insisted. “Look, Dylan if you want to keep coming here with me, there can’t be any more anonymous tips. I don’t want the kids hounded by the press when they show up for class. I don’t want the kids drug into this at all. You didn’t even want me to come today; you said that I shouldn’t lead a psycho here. And then you call and invite reporters?”

  “There’s a difference between a mentally disturbed stalker and a cameraman.” He said defensively. “But I give up, we’ll do it your way for now; I think you start seeing things my way soon enough.”

  ***

  “I must say, this is the easiest move I’ve ever had.” I told Janette as we stood on the sidewalk and watched men move our boxes into large trucks.

  “Speak for yourself.” Janette laughed. “I’m glad we don’t have to do the heavy lifting, but packing my place up took forever. I had three years of living crammed into the place, compared to your three months. Admit it, some of your stuff was still packed from last time.”

  I nodded. “Like I said, it’s been the easiest move ever. I can’t believe that it’s only been three months. Iowa seems a lifetime away.”

  “Just think of how we’ll feel a year from now.” Janette smiled. “We’ll be so used to our luxury apartment, we’ll wonder how we ever survived in these shoe boxes.”

  “I think this place will always be my favorite, even though I didn’t live here very long.” I told her. “This is where my life started.”

  “Well, the last boxes are loaded so it’s time to say goodbye. I’m hungry, want to grab lunch after everything’s unloaded?”

  “Sure, that sounds great. We won’t have to hurry to unpack since I’m off tonight.”

  One of the moving men approached us and announced that they were ready to go to the new apartment. We promised to meet them there and set off for the subway station.

  “I can’t believe you took another night off.” Janette told me as we made the familiar walk one last time. “What happened to ‘I’m going to do every performance’?”

  “I’ll go to work and let you unpack everything yourself, if you want.” I offered.

  “No, I’m glad that you’re staying home, just surprised.”

  “Marion insisted that I not be held to my curtain schedule until the stalker is caught. And to be honest, I need a break from Dylan. The idea of a quiet night in our new place was too much to resist.”

  “Is the honeymoon phase wearing off?”

  “I don’t know… he’s just always ON, do you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. That can be fun but it’s also exhausting to keep up with.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, he really does make me happy. But sometimes I want to ask him to shut the fuck up. There’ve been a few times I’ve faked an upset stomach just so I could hang out in the bathroom alone. I just can’t pay attention to him twenty-four seven.”

  We stepped out of the subway and climbed a staircase to the sidewalk. Our new apartment was only blocks away; we made the trip in five minutes and waited another forty-five for the movers. Janette and I stood in the entryway and directed boxes to their proper rooms. After an hour and a half, the trucks were empty. We thanked the men, gave them generous tips, and followed them out the door. Janette and I were both starving and eager to try the restaurants in our new neighborhood; we agreed to start with the one closest to the apartment and work our way out. Our first destination was a dim sum restaurant at the end of the block.

  Like most things in the city, the restaurant was like nothing I’d ever seen. A conveyor belt moved through the restaurant holding tiny plates of food. Diners grabbed plates as they passed by; servers provided drinks and kept track of the number of plates on each table.

  “I’ve never been anywhere like this before.” I whispered to Janette after a kind, elderly Asian woman took us to our table. “What are the rules?”

  “There aren’t any really, just grab what looks good. All of our dirty plates will stay on the table until we’re finished; someone will come by, count them, and write our check.”

  The woman reappeared with a pot of hot tea and two glasses of ice water. The plates weren’t labeled and I wasn’t familiar enough with the food to know what was what. I grabbed a couple of plates and hoped for the best. We quickly realized that it didn’t matter which plate we took; everything was delicious.

  “So, we’ve talked about my relationship already. How are you and Paul?” I asked Janette. It had been days since she’d mentioned her boyfriend, so I wasn’t surprised when she frowned at the mention of his name.

  “We aren’t seeing each other anymore.” She told me. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him in the first place.”

  “Go easy on yourself, Janette, he’s a nice guy… his just…”

  “Completely unmotivated to do anything but sit on his ass and smoke pot,” Janette finished angrily. “I swear Kate, everything changed between us the moment I got the recording contract. It was like he suddenly saw being my boyfriend as his job. Keeping me happy was just a means to a paycheck.”

  “I was worried that something like that would happen.” I confessed. “Not because Paul is a bad guy, but because it’s the fear I would have if I were in your shoes. But at least you were smart enough to see through his act. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she assured me. “Paul was just a rebound… a very delayed rebound. To be honest, the more time I spent with him the more I m
issed being alone.”

  “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I’m REALLY happy.” She beamed.

  I polished off a final wonton and chased it with the last of my ice water. “I’m going to run to the restroom. I’m stuffed, if the server comes back go ahead and get the check.”

  Janette promised that she would and I walked to the back of the restaurant. I spotted a familiar face at the last booth but I couldn’t put a name to it.

  ‘Where do I know her from?” The question nagged me while I used the bathroom. As I washed my hands, I decided that I’d just stop at the table, say hello, and see what happened. I knew there was a chance that the woman had recognized me and I didn’t want her to think I was purposefully ignoring her. I smoothed my hair, checked my face in the mirror, and stepped back out into the restaurant.

  As I approached the woman’s table I remembered where we’d met, but it was too late to turn away. Instead, I smiled and said hello.

  “It’s nice to see you, Shelia. How have you been?”

  She blushed in the booth and mumbled. “I’m sorry, so I know you?”

  “My name’s Kate Harper, we auditioned together a couple of times.”

  “Oh yeah, you’re the girl who can’t hold her wine.” She sneered.

  ‘I’m also that girl everyone’s talking about.’ I thought bitterly.

  “Guilty as charged.” I told her. “So how have you been?”

  “Good. Not as good s you, obviously, but regular people good. Thanks for stopping by Kate, but I’d like to get back to my book.” She told me, lifting a black Kindle.

  “Of course, nice to see you Shelia.”

  She nodded dismissively without looking up and I returned to my table.

  “I paid the check, you can buy dinner.” Janette said. When I reached the table she stood and we left the restaurant together. “Who were you talking to in there?” She asked as we walked down the sidewalk.

  “Serena Miller, one of the mean girls from my first auditions.”

  “Let me guess, she’s exactly like the rest of them and wants to be your new best friend now that you’re famous.”

  “Not at all,” I told her. “We didn’t even mention Jersey Boys, but she did mention my infamous vomiting incident.”

  “So she’s still a mean girl.”

  “Her tone wasn’t hateful or anything. The whole conversation was just… strange.”

  “Creepy strange?” Janette asked, her face suddenly filled with alarm.

  “No,” I assured her, “more like odd strange.” Janette’s panicked reaction troubled me and I realized that I hadn’t even thought about the danger I could be putting her in. “Janette, with everything that’s going on right now, are you at all scared to live with me?”

  “Oh don’t be silly Kate, of course not,” Janette answered quickly. “If anything I feel better now that I can keep an eye on you myself.”

  “Are you sure? Someone is obviously targeting me. If you get hurt because of that I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Kate, if I had any concerns about living with you I’d have said something by now. Can we please just go home and unpack?”

  I nodded and we walked back to our new home.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Kate? Kate, wake up,” Janette said as she gently shook me. I rolled over and opened my eyes.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked frantically. “What time is it?”

  “It’s seven-thirty, I have an early session at the studio. Kate, I’m sorry to wake you up but I think you need to see something.” Janette said softly.

  “Oh my god, what is it now?” I groaned as I rolled out of bed and stuffed my feet into my slippers. “And is there coffee?”

  “There’s half a pot left, I made it about an hour ago. And it’s the papers again, one paper actually. This one wasn’t so nice to you.” She warned.

  “You got up early enough to go to the newsstand?” I asked as I stumbled into the kitchen.

  “No, I took out a bunch of subscriptions after we signed the lease. I called down to the lobby when I woke up and the doorman brought them to me.” She explained. “I figured we could afford the convenience. I know that we could read the news on our tablets, but I see many good reviews in your future and I want hard copies of all of them.”

  “You’re awesome,” I told her.

  “I try,” she sighed. “I wish I could stay while you read the article, but the session costs a lot of money. You can text me if you need me and I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  “Okay, which paper is it?”

  “The New York Sun; it isn’t really considered a reliable news source, but they run a lot of theater stories so I went ahead and got it. It’s basically a piece of trash tabloid, keep that in mind while you read.”

  Janette left for work; I poured myself a mug of coffee and warily walked to the kitchen table. I dreaded reading the article but I knew that I had to get it over with. I opened the Sun to the theater section and felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. I’d expected to see yet another shot of Dylan and I together but instead, the paper had run three separate head shots: one of me, one of Dylan, and one of Max.

  IS BROADWAY’S NEW SWEETHEART USING DYLAN MATTHEWS

  TO GET OVER HER BILLIONAIR BARTENDER EX? – P.J. Karnes

  The headline asked boldly. ‘At least it wasn’t picked up by the Associated Press.’ I thought as I braced myself and started reading.

  Kate Harper has quickly become the talk of New York, but how much

  does the public really know about Broadway’s new sweetheart? Rumors

  have swirled around the Iowa born actress since she was awarded the

  role of Loraine in Jersey Boys, one of Broadway’s most popular shows.

  Harpers casting came as a surprise to everybody in the industry, but no

  one was as shocked as Poppy Montgomery, the seasoned theater pro

  who’d held the role since the show’s debut five years ago.

  Criticism of the recast has quieted since Harper’s debut performance

  and the industry has welcomed her with open arms. But does Kate

  Harper deserve the accolades she’s receiving? This reporter thinks not.

  Theater insiders have confirmed the rumors that Kate Harper and Dylan

  Matthews are involved in an intimate relationship. This only confirms

  the original suspicions that Matthews played a large part in getting

  Harper the role on his show. It’s no secret that Matthews is a ladies

  man; it would come as no surprise to learn that he’d used his strong

  hold on theater management to push another actress out, in order to

  let his flavor of the week play Theater Barbie.

  Kate Harper has yet to answer a single question from a reporter, but

  perhaps there’s a better way to learn who the actress really is. Sources

  have confirmed that Harper was involved with bartender Max Shepherd

  in the months leading up to her controversial casting. Shepherd, who is

  a billionaire by birth and a bartender by choice, is reported to be an

  easy going guy who lacks motivation. The New Yorker confirms that he’s

  countless articles for review, none of which have made it in to the

  publication.

  It doesn’t take a genius to see the motivation behind Harper’s change

  in leading men. Matthews is in the perfect position to advance her career

  so like Poppy, Shepherd was tossed to the side. I ask you readers, does that

  sound like a woman who deserves praise?

  Fortunately, it looks like Harper’s days on Broadway may be numbered. The

  actress hasn’t been seen at Lincoln Theater since Saturday night. Perhaps

  management has finally taken back control of their own theater or maybe

  Matthews has moved on to his newest conquest. Either way, this reporter


  is just happy she’s gone.

  I pushed the paper away and started thinking about damage control. I knew that I should call my family and warn them about the article. They don’t have the Sun back home, but they do have the internet. I knew that Dylan wouldn’t give a second thought to the story, so that just left Max to deal with. I found my purse in the living room and pulled out my cell phone. I’d missed a text from Dylan.

  “Everyone knows that the Sun is horseshit, don’t let it get you down.” I wondered if he’d have the same attitude if the reporter had implied that he was a talentless whore and then I remembered that Dylan had lived with that reputation for years. ‘No wonder he doesn’t think this is a big deal.’ I realized.

  I called my mom and spent twenty minutes listening to all of the latest Waterloo gossip. I told her about the show and mentioned that Dylan and I had had food poisoning over the weekend. I felt awful lying to her but I knew that she was bound to read about my missed performances somewhere and ask for an explanation. Just before ending the call, I casually mentioned that a couple of bad stories had been written about me and reminded her not to believe everything she read. I promised to talk to her soon and then collapsed onto the couch once the call was over.

  I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before; I’d been determined to get my bedroom set up before I had to go back to work and hadn’t laid down until after three. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only eight-fifteen. I knew I had to talk to Max but I thought it would be best to do it in person. The best place to find him would be Orlando’s and they didn’t open for another four hours. With a yawn, I took my coffee mug to the kitchen sink and shuffled back to my bedroom for a few more hours of sleep.

  ***

  I’d expected Max to greet me with hostility, but I’d never imagined that the rest of the restaurant staff would treat me like an outcast. When I pushed open the front door and stepped inside, Megan and Lisa were standing behind the hostess station. I smiled as I approached them; they gave me identical glares, turned their backs, and stomped away. I tried not to let their attitudes bother me; I knew that I was about to get much worse from Max.