Broadway Babe

by J. C. Long

  “You’d think he would be proud that you’re successful,” I said with a shake of my head.

  “He doesn’t consider me successful because theatre isn’t something worth doing as far as he is concerned.”

  The bitterness in Mike’s voice was thick. This was something that hurt him deeply even now. A burst of sympathy bubbled inside me, and I was suddenly fighting the overwhelming urge to hug and comfort Mike Chang. Instead I just hummed in sympathy as we walked.

  We reached the subway entrance. I stood there for a moment, at the top of the stairs leading down into the underground, not sure what to say. Finally I said, “Well, I’m going to get going. I’m sure the others are waiting for you.”

  Mike blinked. “What others?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “The others getting dinner at the restaurant.”

  His quizzical expression didn’t fade. “I’m not meeting anyone for dinner. I guess I’m going solo tonight.”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t invited anyone else, only me? That doesn’t change anything, though, I reminded myself. I’d already examined that possibility and come to the same conclusion. No one’s showmance, not even Mike Chang’s. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, turning down the stairs.

  It was really hard to force myself not to look back and watch him walk, alone, down the rain-choked streets. I knew that if I did, though, my resolve would crumble no matter what my intentions were. It was hard, letting something I wanted so much walk away from me. But it would be easier than getting a taste of it and losing it later, when he was ready to move on to his next conquest.

  It was better this way. But why didn’t it feel better?

  “YOU TURNED down a dinner date with Mike Chang?” Lucy shouted at me through the computer screen, the sudden loudness forcing me to pull the earbuds out of my ears for a moment to abate the ringing. “Are you insane?”

  “It wasn’t a dinner date,” I huffed. I wasn’t at all surprised by Lucy’s reaction, but I was still annoyed by it. She didn’t realize how difficult this entire situation was for me.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with that ‘out of his league’ nonsense, does it?” Her voice made it clear that she suspected the opposite.

  “It had to do with a lot of things!” I told her everything that had happened since our last Skype session, expecting her to understand. Instead she just looked, if possible, more exasperated.

  “You are by far the biggest idiot in the entire western hemisphere!”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but she simply barreled over me.

  “I mean, seriously? You’re taking relationship advice from someone who hates your guts and from your idiot friends?”

  “Wes and the others aren’t idiots—”

  “They’re great people, and I love them, but Tate, they are idiots when it comes to relationships. Wes is so obsessed with his music that he’s had what, four dates in the past three years? And Moses, bless his heart, assumes that just because he has a new partner every other week that everyone else does too. Sean—” She stopped for a beat. “Well, sounds like he has his head on straight. Those others, though, not so much.”

  “So you think they’re wrong,” I surmised.

  “Of course I think they’re wrong! One, any advice that comes from someone that hates you is probably aimed at making you unhappy. Two, Moses and Wes haven’t really been in relationships, and three, based on everything you told me it sounds like he’s interested!”

  “Maybe he’s interested,” I conceded, though I did not in the slightest believe that he was—okay, I did a little bit, but that was just wishful thinking on my part, or a small touch of insanity. “That doesn’t mean that he’s interested in more than just a quick hookup. Despite what my friends might be looking for, I don’t want to be someone’s showmance.”

  Lucy let out the most frustrated sound I’d ever heard anyone make. “Quit it with the showmance nonsense! You’re living in the real world, not on Big Brother!”

  I was getting impatient with the scolding. “I’ve been in theatre for a long time, Lucy. It happens. I’ve seen it in plenty of shows. People are always together most days, for long hours, because of the show, and so they develop this sort of temporary attraction for each other. As soon as the show is done and they’re not seeing each other frequently, it’s gone. If he’s even interested, that’s all it would be.”

  “You don’t know that will happen,” she argued.

  “And you don’t know that it won’t,” I countered.

  “What’s the harm in trying, though?” she pressed.

  “Just let it go!” I snapped, and she looked hurt, but I was tired of having the conversation and couldn’t see how she didn’t realize it wasn’t helping. “I don’t understand why you’re so wrapped up in this!”

  “I just don’t want to see you miss out on a great opportunity that you’ll regret later.”

  “I’m a big boy and can make big-boy decisions.” My tone was rapidly softening, though, because I knew that in the end Lucy wanted what was best for me, and how could I be angry with that? “I know you don’t agree, Lucy, but this is definitely the better choice.”

  Lucy did not look convinced. “So you’re just going to avoid him for the entire run of the show?”

  I grinned halfheartedly. “It’s not so bad. My contract is only for one hundred performances.”

  SCENE XI

  I DID my best to put my conversation with Lucy out of my mind. I loved her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t let myself believe that someone like Mike Chang might be interested in me, because as soon as the reality struck and it became clear that he wasn’t, I would be hurt, and I’d have no one to blame but myself. It was safer to just head the whole thing off before it could start, save myself the trouble. My mother always said an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of the cure.

  I showed up to rehearsal the next day determined to pay no attention to Mike and focus on the show and my part in it. Fate did not conspire to make that easy, though. I seemed to bump into him no matter where I was in the theater. We would make eye contact and it would be awkward, and I would about-face and hightail it out of there as soon as I could without it looking too strange. It had become obvious, I’m sure by that point, that I was avoiding him, though. Once or twice he opened his mouth to say something, but I would brush him away with some sort of mumbled excuse about having something I needed to do.

  I pretended not to see the hurt in his eyes. It wasn’t easy.

  Those moments were weak ones for me. Seeing those expressive eyes showing hurt, knowing that I’d been the cause of it, it brought back Lucy’s words, enticed me with the idea that the others had it all wrong, that Mike couldn’t be different from the guy I thought he was. But what if I was wrong, and he was different?

  No, I couldn’t risk it.

  As the first preview performance drew nearer, I became more and more miserable—and so did Mike, as I could not help but see. His mood had spiraled noticeably since we moved into the theater. He was no longer energetic and smiling. Now, more often than not, the only time he was smiling was when he was on stage. The moment a song ended or the lights fell or he stepped into the waiting dark embrace of the wings, his face was morose, sad. He was a mere shadow of the guy who I’d first seen through the door, pouring his heart and soul into a song in a way that I could never hope to match.

  The night of the last dress rehearsal before the first review performance, Annabelle and Cally barged into the men’s ensemble dressing room.

  “Everybody out,” Annabelle barked, and the men made their way out, complaining about not being finished getting into costume. “This won’t take long. Don’t worry. Go.”

  I started to exit with them, but Cally pushed me back into the room.

  “Places is in fifteen minutes,” I protested.

  “Well, that just means you have to process what we’re about to tell you through your thick head faster than normal,” An
nabelle snipped. “Now what the hell is going on with you and Mike? And don’t you dare say nothing, or so help me God I will punch you right in the gut.”

  The way she balled up her fist and the expression on her face made it plain that it was not an idle threat at all. I had no doubt she would do it.

  I huffed and turned around, determined to continue putting on my costume if they insisted on this little heart-to-heart. It had nothing to do with the fact that this way I didn’t have to really make eye contact with them. Honestly.

  “I don’t know what you’re expecting to hear,” I said at last, very focused on making sure the collar of my shirt was just right. “Nothing has happened between Mike and me.” It was the truth. Nothing had happened between the two of us in a romantic sense. Hell, nothing had happened between us in a friend sense either, not since that night at Rager.

  “And yet you won’t even go within five feet of him unless you have to, and you haven’t really talked to him since that night at the bar.” Annabelle’s face made it clear my circular denials weren’t going to brush her off this time. She was done playing, it seemed. “The night where Donnie said something to you and then you left in a hurry. Do you think that I couldn’t put two and two together?”

  “Everyone knows you have a crush on him,” Cally added. “It’s the most painfully obvious thing in the world.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I replied dryly. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s utterly pointless for me to think about anything like that. It’s just going to lead to more trouble than it’s worth. And that’s why I need to distance myself from him, to keep myself from going down that road. Wanting him is pointless. We are looking for different things, and it wouldn’t work out. It’s better to recognize that up front and deal with it than to lie to ourselves for months and end up hurt.”

  Annabelle crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’ve talked to him about what he’s looking for?”

  I shook my head. “Well, no, but—”

  Annabelle pressed her finger into my shoulder, forcing me to turn around and face her.

  “Then how the hell do you know what he wants? You should at least talk to him. What did he do wrong? Why is he getting punished? Do you see him moping around out there? The guy is like a zombie right now!”

  “And you’re not doing much better yourself,” Cally added—somewhat spitefully, I think. Maybe she was getting revenge for the eleven-year-old comment.

  “Don’t you dare let something Donnie fucking Reynolds said to you make you and Mike miserable.”

  There was a fierceness in Annabelle’s eyes then, and I could see how much she cared for him. Their friendship really was like mine and Lucy’s. Lucy would be doing the exact same thing if the situation called for it.

  I opened my mouth to say something and stopped, realizing that Annabelle and Cally were both right. I was treating Mike like a bad guy when he hadn’t been anything but kind to me, and all on the word of the biggest asshole on the planet and unsubstantiated gossip from my gossipmonger group of friends. And that was what Lucy had been trying to tell me, what Sean had been trying to tell me. I’d let what others were saying and thinking control me. I’d played right into Donnie’s plan this whole time.

  Damn if I couldn’t be a real idiot sometimes.

  Despite my years in the theatre, it was hard for me to keep my true emotions behind a mask, and Annabelle and Cally knew immediately when I’d decided they were right.

  “He’s in his dressing room,” Annabelle said, not unkindly.

  I squeezed between them on my way out the door, and they both patted my shoulders encouragingly.

  The ensemble shared a large dressing room, but Annabelle, Donnie, and Mike each got their own near ours. Annabelle’s was closest to us, Mike’s the farthest. Donnie’s door was thankfully closed, but I could hear the loud, sycophantic laughter of his entourage as I passed. I fought hard to resist the sudden impulse to barge into his dressing room and punch him in the face.

  Mike’s door was partly open, and I glanced in before announcing my presence. Mike was sitting in front of his mirror sort of listlessly, doing something on his phone. Seeing the hunch to his shoulders made me feel like even more of an asshole than I already did.

  I took a deep breath to gather my courage and knocked on the door, pushing it open farther. Mike glanced up into his mirror to see who was behind him at the door. I couldn’t help but note that he didn’t look all that pleased to see me. Not that I could blame him.

  Here we go. “Can I come in?”

  “Oh, you finally want to talk to me after spending the last three weeks avoiding me like the plague?” Mike asked bitterly.

  I hated hearing that tone directed at me, but I had to admit it was well deserved.

  “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  There was a moment where he was clearly considering, and I half expected him to tell me no, but he finally gave a single short nod. I stepped into the dressing room and pushed the door closed behind me. I briefly noted that the dressing room was not any nicer than the ensemble shared room, though it felt bigger with just one person’s costumes and material. It was decorated with some pictures along the mirror, several homemade cards, a few odds and ends that probably came from Mike’s apartment. It was not uncommon for dressing rooms to become a home away from home of sorts for the actors, with each one personalizing it as best they could. Usually these items were meant to bring luck to the show.

  “I know I’ve been acting strange, and I’m sorry, but there is a reason.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  Mike’s face remained neutral as he continued to watch me through the mirror instead of turning to face me, much like I’d done with Annabelle and Cally a few minutes before. Feeling the way I felt now because of that, I decided I owed Cally and Annabelle an apology for yet another thing.

  “It’s just….” I could feel the heat entering my face but knew that it was now or never, and with the run of the show ahead of us, I needed to find a way to make it less awkward between us so we could at least work together, if nothing else. “It’s just that I like you.”

  Mike rolled his eyes. “That’s why you’ve been acting like you can’t stand to be in the same room with me?” He did turn to face me, finally.

  “I never said it was a good reason,” I said defensively. “Look, I have this huge crush on you, as I’m sure you probably noticed, since Cally and Annabelle tell me it’s quote, ‘painfully obvious,’ end quote. The thing is, I’m pretty sure you and I want different things.”

  Was it just my imagination, or were his eyes softening a little bit?

  “You never asked me what I wanted.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, not caring that hair and makeup would be angry that I mussed it. “Annabelle made the same argument—again. I didn’t say any of my logic was good. In fact, I can now state with certainty that it’s terrible. I distanced myself because I didn’t want to get wrapped up in you and then get tossed aside.”

  Confusion lined Mike’s handsome face. “‘Tossed aside’? What does that mean?”

  “You’re this huge Broadway star—a sex icon for lots of girls and guys out there—talented, important, beautiful. Did I mention beautiful? That one I can’t really stress enough. You’re out of my league. Me, I’m a nobody, just some ensemble player. A faceless pair of dance shoes.” I could not keep the bitterness out of my words then. I hated that they echoed Donnie’s insult in Rager, but he’d touched on all my insecurities so perfectly that night.

  Mike was on his feet quickly, his hands on my shoulders. I was surprised by the gesture and gasped a little.

  “You’re not a nobody. That’s Donnie talking, just Donnie. Just because he thinks that everyone that isn’t him is worthless doesn’t mean it’s actually true. You’re equally talented—hell, you’re the best dancer I’ve ever seen, and I’m not just saying that to see you blush in that adorable way you have either.”

  I felt the c
olor rise to my cheeks at the compliment, and he smiled slightly.

  “That’s what I mean.”

  He maneuvered me until I was standing in front of his mirror. He stepped behind me, peering over my shoulder at my reflection. My hair was tousled now—yeah, hair and makeup were going to have a fit—and my face was hot and red.

  “See? You’re absolutely stunning, blushing and all.”

  “You say that now,” I said, forcing myself back to my arguments, reminding myself that I didn’t want to get lost in the feelings just to be left behind later. “But what about when the show is over and I become just another showmance that ended?”

  That confusion returned full force. “What is a showmance?”

  I was taken aback that he didn’t know. I figured by this point it was one of those phrases that was part of the common vernacular of performers. “You know, where two people in the same show get together for the duration of the show, and then once the show is over so is the relationship. Have you never heard that word? The rumors say you have had plenty of showmances.”

  Mike laughed a bit harshly. “Wow, the rumors say that, huh? Tate, this is the first show I’ve been single in. For all of my other shows I was in a relationship—with the same person. It lasted for nearly four years. I have never dated a castmate, and I’ve definitely not chosen one from each show to occupy my time, or whatever purpose it is these showmances have.”

  The world around me seemed to spin a bit, and I could just hear Lucy and Sean’s I told you so echo in my brain.

  “You haven’t?” I repeated faintly, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet for the second time in ten minutes. Why did I listen to Moses and the others? I made a mental note to never speak to the three again—well, except Sean, who was right all along and appeared to be the person I should turn to for future dating advice.