Chapter 30
Derek practically floated on air during his walk from his apartment to Prestige Rep.
Zoe. Zoe Tran. Her name was an earworm that he never wanted to get rid of. He couldn’t have dreamed of a better way for them
to reveal their feelings for each other. And this morning was the icing on top, because he’d left a very pleased Zoe in his
bed. She’d even praised him for his oral skills.
Finally everything he’d ever wanted was coming to fruition. His design team had nailed his vision, especially Zoe with her
costumes. The cast had had great chemistry during the table read and that would only grow as they continued to work together.
Nothing could ruin his mood.
“Oh, what a beautiful morning,” he sang as he walked into the rehearsal room, only to find that Th ? o had beat him there.
“You’re forty-five minutes late, Curly.” She pointed to the clock that Heather had hung in the room.
“No, I’m early.” Derek checked the Google calendar that the stage manager had shared with everyone. “We’re not called until
ten today.”
“Yes, for rehearsal. But you and I were supposed to meet at nine to finish this last song.”
He cringed as he vaguely recalled Th ? o’s text from yesterday.
“Shit, I’m sorry, but I have a good excuse—”
“No more excuses, Derek. We have to finish writing the scene where T ? m and Cám come together to test the Emperor’s love. Not to mention fixing their duet by Monday, when Heather has it scheduled
for rehearsal.”
“I know. I know. It’s a pivotal scene that illustrates how we’re diverging from the original fairy tale in order to give the
sisters more agency.” He repeated their previous discussions about the song.
She crossed her arms in front of her.
“Don’t be mad,” he begged.
She grunted and turned away from him.
“You’re mad.”
No response. Boy was she was pissed.
“Can I tell you my good news at least?” he tried changing the subject.
She didn’t move.
“I finally told Zoe how I felt and she feels the same way!”
Th ? o spun around. Her eyes were wide with shock.
“You’re making up things to make me react,” she accused.
“Zoe spent the night,” he said and added, “but we’re not telling anyone yet. I told her you’re not anyone.”
He returned Th ? o’s look of disbelief with a huge smile so she knew he was telling the truth.
“You finally did it. And you hooked up? Damn.” Th ? o sat the piano and played the opening measures of “Oklahoma!” as a recall to his singing from earlier.
“I wouldn’t have forgotten otherwise. Sorry,” he apologized again.
“You’re forgiven.” Th ? o let out a heavy sigh.
His shoulders dropped with relief. They didn’t argue often, but he hated when she was upset with him.
“At least one of us is getting some action.” She played a sad melody that he recognized as “She Used to Be Mine” from Waitress . Th ? o played it only when she was really sad.
“What happened with you and Katie Mai last night?”
“Besides getting too drunk? We talked until dawn.” She yawned. “She wants to go to LA to take a shot at film and TV. There
are way more opportunities in Hollywood for Asian actors now.”
“There’s good theater on the West Coast, too. Look at East West Players, the oldest Asian American theater in the U.S.” It
was on his dream list of places to direct a play.
“That’s what she said, too.” Th ? o chewed on her bottom lip.
“What’s the problem then?”
“After what happened with my ex, I vowed to never move to a new city for a partner. I have to want to be there, too.”
“Th ? o, you know Katie Mai is nothing like your ex.”
“I wouldn’t be dating her if she was.”
Th ? o’s ex-boyfriend had convinced her to move to New York with him even though she didn’t have a job lined up. She’d waited tables
while she searched for a theater job. Anything to get into the scene. A month in, her ex announced he hated the city and was
moving back home to Illinois. He left her with an apartment they’d barely been able to afford on two incomes.
When she’d come into the diner crying, Derek immediately offered to be her roommate. Couch surfing had gotten old. They still
shared an apartment, though their current one allowed them to have their own rooms with a door that shut.
“I told her that I’d think about it, but I could tell she was disappointed by my lack of excitement,” Th ? o said somberly.
Voices echoing outside the room interrupted them. It was almost time for rehearsal to begin. Th ? o glanced at the door and back to Derek.
“Don’t say anything to Katie Mai, please. People know we’re together, but we’re keeping things strictly professional during
work hours.”
“We always keep each other’s secrets,” Derek reassured Th ? o.
He wondered how Zoe would respond if he asked her to move to New York. But he’d never ask her to choose between him and her career.
“Who’s ready to learn some blocking?” called out Heather as she entered the room hugging her three-ring binder. She was the
most organized stage manager he’d ever worked with.
A chorus of Me and Hell yeahs came from the cast as they came in behind her. Walking in after them was a face Derek did not want to deal with this morning.
“Greg, are you joining us today?” Derek tried to ask in an even tone. Whatever happy energy he had remaining after Th ? o’s conversation had completely disappeared.
“I’m only here to observe. Hands off.” He gestured to reiterate his point.
“Of course,” Derek demurred and nodded at Heather, who quickly pulled out a chair for Greg.
The artistic director had free reign in his theater, but Derek had hoped Greg wouldn’t observe rehearsals until much later
during the process, when the cast was off-book and had a better handle on their characters. Derek hoped to foster an atmosphere
of their shared experiences as Asian Americans in order to create multilayered characters. That would be much harder to do
with Greg sitting in.
With only three weeks before tech rehearsal, Derek didn’t have the luxury to veer off schedule. Greg was part of the equation
whether he liked it or not.
“Thank you, folks. Take ten and we’ll regroup for the next number,” Heather announced. “Then you get a lunch break!”
The cast cheered with tired enthusiasm. For the past hour and a half, Th ? o had pushed them hard to hit their notes and express their emotions while keeping the lyrics as easy to understand as possible.
“You all sound great today,” Derek added. “It’s hard to believe you’ve been at this for only two days.”
The actors gave him a thumbs-up and murmured thanks. They began shuffling out of the rehearsal studio as Heather reminded
them to hydrate.
“Good job, everyone!” Greg called out after them, as if he didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.
Th ? o rolled her eyes and mouthed Greg’s words behind his back. Derek snorted and bit back a laugh.
“Derek, can I have a word?” Greg’s eyes darted over to Th ? o. “Alone?”
“Sure,” Derek agreed reluctantly.
“Be back in a few. Gotta take a bio break,” said Th ? o, and stuck her tongue out at Derek when Greg was turned away. She fled with the rest of the cast, leaving him alone with
his mentor.
“I’m proud of you, Derek.”
Greg had said this so often, Derek wasn’t sure how much to believe him anymore.
“You were right about keeping Katie Mai as the older sister,” Greg continued. “Her voice is stunning. And it makes sense why
someone like her would worry about whether the Emperor truly loved her.”
Derek gritted his teeth. He thought the issue had been settled yesterday.
“Her body size isn’t why I cast her in this role, but I’m glad you can see why she’s the best person for it,” Derek reminded
him in a firm voice.
“Exactly. I have some suggestions if you don’t mind.” Greg pulled out a small notebook from his shirt pocket.
“Actually I do.”
“I wanted to bring it up privately,” the artistic director continued, “so I don’t undermine you in front of your cast.”
“Greg,” Derek warned, “I have everything under control.”
“Some food for thought.” Greg shrugged before flipping to a page and squinting at his notes.
Derek cleared his throat loudly to show his impatience.
“There’s a lot of Vietnamese in the show, especially the songs.”
“I don’t see a problem with that,” Derek responded carefully. He and Th ? o had worked hard to make sure the Vietnamese dialogue and lyrics could easily be understood through context.
“Have you considered translating it? Add the same lyrics but in English right after so everyone can understand what they’re
singing?”
Derek’s nostrils flared as he attempted to keep his voice under control. “The audience will understand. Didn’t you tell me
not to underestimate them?”
“I did.” Greg beamed. “But people come to the theater to escape, not exercise their brains.”
“I disagree. Theater is art and good art encourages the viewer to—”
“When you’ve been doing this as long as I have, it’s all about butts in chairs and ticket sales. People are lazy and don’t
want to ‘figure out’ what the actors are saying.” Greg used air quotes around figure out .
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Derek lied, hoping Greg would stop there.
He did not.
“Second, why does the Emperor have such a small role? If this is your version of Cinderella, people will want to see him sweep
her off her feet.” Greg held out his arms to an invisible partner and danced the beginnings of a waltz.
“Because the story isn’t about him. T ? m Cám is about the love the sisters have for each other.”
“Just think about it, okay?” Greg licked his finger and flipped to another page.
Derek’s left eye twitched. How many more dumb notes were there?
“I read the script last night and there’s two unfinished songs.”
“Only one. The other one needs a bit of polish but we’re ninety percent there.”
“You need to finish both ASAP and send them to me,” Greg chided. “We’ve already sent out the press releases and invited everyone
to opening night.”
“Th ? o and I will work on them this weekend.”
Derek didn’t point out that writing additional English lyrics for the other songs like Greg suggested would create even more
work. That would only make this torturous conversation longer.
“Don’t forget you’ll make changes to the show as you work with the actors. That’s the nature of seeing it onstage versus on
paper. You can’t—”
“I know,” Derek interrupted. “I can’t make too many changes or the actors will have a hard time remembering the right lines.”
“Good. I’ve taught you well.”
“This isn’t the first world premiere production I’ve directed,” Derek said. “I know how new plays can evolve during the rehearsal
process.”
“Yes, but you’re doing double duty as the director and the playwright. The director part of you has to keep a short leash
on the playwright.”
“Greg, I need you to give me some space if I’m going to do that. You can’t show up unannounced to rehearsal.”
“Yes, hands off. I remember,” said Greg.
But Derek didn’t believe him.
“It’s better if you wait at least a week before sitting in rehearsal again. Give the cast time to gel and learn the material.”
“If that’s what you want,” the artistic director said sharply, as if Derek had offended him.
“It is,” Derek said as he squared his shoulders.
Greg’s eyes narrowed as if he debated calling Derek on a bluff.
“I want you to give us a week,” he repeated as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Will do,” Greg conceded. “One week.”
Greg winked as if there had been no tension between them before leaving Derek alone in the rehearsal studio.
Derek dropped back into the cold, metal folding chair and groaned in frustration. His night—and morning—with Zoe had been
one of the best of his life. He assumed everything would fall into place once he’d finally confessed his feelings to her.
So why were the past few hours of his professional life so draining? He’d disappointed Th ? o by standing her up this morning. Even though it was an honest mistake, they were on a tight timetable for opening night.
He hated it when Greg was right. Derek grunted, disappointed in himself. Maybe Greg expected Derek to fail so he could have
a reason that Prestige Rep shouldn’t produce more plays directed by people of color. All so he could have the upper hand and
feel good about trying.
Not to mention that Derek would have to work with his best friend turned girlfriend without anyone learning about it. All
while mounting the most important show of his life. He took deep breaths to push away the anxiety creeping up his chest.
“It will all work out,” Derek said out loud to reassure himself, but the words echoed off the walls, making them sound even
more hollow.