Chapter 39
Chapter 3 9
Theodore
It’s… chaos. Everyone is, admittedly, losing their wits. Which is understandable, considering how high the stakes are. There are people that came specifically to our show to find new talent. To change our lives, possibly. And at any other time in my life, I would have been ecstatic, buzzing with the excitement of stepping on stage and giving it blood, sweat and tears. But how can I, when I’ve ruined what could have been the best thing to ever happen to me? There are probably no good answers to my question, but at the same time, I know I can’t throw tonight away because of what happened. I can’t do this to my grandparents, who have come here to cheer for me and see their sacrifices weren’t in vain.
If Dafne never forgives me, all I have left is to try and forgive myself. But if there’s even one chance that what I’ll try to do later tonight works, perhaps not all is lost. I can’t think about that now, though; it’s ten minutes until show time, the backstage is utter madness of people going back and forth to make sure their props and costumes are into place. Someone is making brrr and mmmm sounds to warm their voice up. Devon is taking deep breaths next to the small table right behind centre backstage where a script is left open for everyone to check in case of last-minute empty-headedness–yes, it’s a thing. Completely forgetting our next line happens to the best of us.
Oliver and Dafne are holding each other’s hands, their eyes closed in quiet concentration. She looks beautiful with the soft lights hitting her collarbone and the tip of her nose, her long hair half up and half down, but I avert my gaze before they sense the intrusion.
Our stage manager lets us know there’s three minutes left until show time, and Mr. Hackle gathers us in a tight circle.
“Alright, I want you to be sharp, be ready, be present. Listen to your castmates, remember what these three years have been for, and most of all,” he clears his throat, and for the first time since I’ve had him as a teacher, I could swear there’s a hint of emotion in his voice, “have the bloody time of your lives. Yeah?”
A chorus of yeses and whoops rises from our circle, and we start stacking our hands in the middle, Oliver placing his over mine, so Dafne doesn’t have to. We push down three times, then as one, our hands soar towards the ceiling, the bell that announces the beginning of the play ringing its first toll.
I should probably refrain, but I can’t stop the words that make their way out of my mouth when Dafne accidentally bumps into me.
“Break a leg,” I tell her quietly.
She looks at me like she’s never heard me speak before. “Break a leg,” she says back, not warmly but not angry, either. Defeated, perhaps. Sad.
“I love you,” I whisper when I’m sure she can’t hear. Not yet.
The second bell rings, echoing clear and bright through the theatre as all sound from the expecting audience dies, and the play begins.
There’s a five-minute break after Act Two, and we quickly gather backstage. “You’re doing so well, everyone, truly,” Ms. Patterson beams, clearly bursting with pride. She hands each of us a water bottle. I take a small sip, then notice Oliver’s breathing a little heavier than normal. I look over at Dafne, but she doesn’t seem to notice. I try really hard not to think of how kissing her here, on this stage, felt like, because I know it might well be the last time. Trying to draw as little attention as possible, I walk up to Oliver. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he says, pressing two fingers to his temple. “I’m just a little lightheaded.”
“You need some sugar in your water? I think I have a packet in my– ”
“It’s fine, Theodore,” he interrupts, as he looks over my shoulder to Dafne, her eyes closed once more in concentration. “I’m fine,” he says again, more to himself than to me. I nod, letting it go, as it’s time to get back to work. Act Three and Four go by in a flash, and it’s time for the Final Act.
Dafne
I’m dead–well, not really. I look dead, but Paris finds me and Romeo and thinks it was my lover who killed me. I lay motionless on my pallet while they duel, until Paris falls to his demise, and Romeo walks towards me.
His monologue begins, and when he reaches me I feel his warm fingers tremble on my cheek, caressing one with his knuckles. If I weren’t supposed to be in a drugged sleep, I’d probably cry. Or punch him.
He pulls me up gently as he continues, trying to squeeze the life back into Juliet as he holds me in his arms. I should be hating this, instead all I can think is that we could have had this. Minus the poison. That would have made Theodore laugh.
“ The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a date-less bargain to engrossing death ,” he says, prying the plastic vial I’m gripping in my left hand and throwing it away from us.
“ Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark! Here’s to my love ,” and he chugs the contents of the poison he brought with him. “ O true Apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. ”
I wake up from the apparent death when Friar Lawrence arrives, and I will my voice to echo through the theatre when I realise Romeo lies dead next to me.
“ Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? ” I say as I take in the empty poison vial he brought with him and just drank, thinking me truly gone. The thought that this is truly the last kiss Theodore and I will ever share crossed my mind for a second, and I refocus immediately.
“ Thy lips are warm!” I exclaim after pressing my lips to his .
Hearing voices calling from behind me, I hastily grab Romeo’s dagger . “Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die,” I say, as I stab myself and fall next to Romeo so we can sleep together forever.
Clamorous applause spreads and echoes through the thea-tre as soon as the last line is uttered by Thomas, and Theodore helps me up while the rest of my castmates join us on stage for the final bow. He doesn’t let go of my hand as we step forward to get our moment of glory, and I’m so overwhelmed with emotion I simply let him. An ear-shattering whoop whoop whoop coming from where I know Phoebe is sitting with my family makes me smile as I look over at Theodore to coordinate our bow. Instead, he kisses my knuckles and smiles warmly as he claps for me along with the rest of the audience, effectively making my heart burst inside my chest. I’m so angry at him, but I could also kiss him right now. Which makes me even more angry.
I tilt my head to encourage him to bow. It’s the last time he’ll ever be on this stage and despite everything, I don’t want him to miss it. He looks unsure, but eventually surrenders and bows to his chest, taking my hand in his again as we retreat to let everyone else have their spotlight.
“You were magnificent,” he whispers without looking at me once we’re back in line.
“As were you,” I reply honestly.
I’m pleased to see I’m still capable of objectivity. Ollie steps forward to bow next to Devon, and I clap so hard my hands hurt; I don’t care, he deserves it. I notice he gets back in line on wobbly legs, his gaze unfocused, but I assume it’s the rush of adrenaline wearing off. We all take each other’s hands and bow together once, twice, three times. The applause doesn’t falter. It’s pure magic.
As we retreat backstage, everyone’s complimenting each other. Margaret is definitely crying into the crook of Isabel’s neck, who’s rolling her eyes in affectionate annoyance; the guys are patting each other’s backs, and Ollie is standing next to Devon, his hand clutching a nearby stool. He looks unsteady, so I start towards him, when a hand taps me on the shoulder.
It’s Theodore. He’s flushed, something a little wild shining in his eyes, and lord help me–he’s never looked so beautiful.
“I know you hate me,” he starts, nearly breathless, “but would you listen to me just one more time before you erase me from your life completely?”
“I don’t think I should.”
“Please,” he says quietly, eyes flickering between mine.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I can’t, Theodore.”
“Dafne–”
Whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by a loud thud behind me, and I when I turn around, Ollie’s on the floor, his eyes rolling back. I scream.