Chapter 05 PETER
Deep breaths, Peter.
Just because he read a Kane play after your class doesn’t mean a thing; he’s just a very dedicated student.
I should have asked him how things have been going post-graduation. The department was always a bit too theoretical for the actors in the cohort. We should have a class on the business of acting or something. Not that I’d be able to teach it. I love theater, but I’d never be able to act in a play.
I’ll stick to the dramaturgy, thank you.
Dylan, on the other hand, always had chops. He was absolutely fabulous as Prior in Angels in America: Millennium Approaches.
He made me cry—so much depth to his performance. And he couldn’t have been more than 20 at the time.
He really is talented.
It’s wild to see him sitting at the base of this tree looking happy and healthy. The makeup they put on him for the play was devastating. He looked so sick. I wanted to run onto the stage and take care of him…
Okay, I’m getting carried away now.
Just hold the damn reflector and stop swooning over your former student, Peter!
God, this is inappropriate. I don’t even go to the cast parties for the shows I do dramaturgy for at the University because I don’t want to blur the line between teacher and student.
Help him get his headshots and let him live his life. Period.
“Okay, Dylan, take a breath and smile,“
Sadie instructs him.
The camera clicks, followed by a gust of wind that tousles his dark hair.
“Oh, Gosh,” he says.
“Hold for nature,“
Sadie adds with a laugh.
The wind has decided in this exact moment to be an absolute menace, and Dylan’s hair becomes a mess.
“Goddamnit! I worked so hard on this mop!”
Sadie laughs. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix it once the wind stops.”
The leaves blow about, circling Dylan like orange fairies teasing him. His face is slightly annoyed, but he still has a playful smirk.
The wind finally gives us a break.
“Alright! Let’s go.”
Sadie moves like lightning, snapping shot after shot while giving Dylan direction. She was right about the colors. I’m standing beside her with the reflector. She moves it every so often, illuminating Dylan’s face to perfection. His skin is a lovely tan color, and the orange leaves accentuate its warmth. His eyes are the lightest blue I’ve ever seen—probably because of the sweater, but they’re radiating right now.
The wind blows again, not as strong as before, but enough to knock a curl in front of his face.
His eyes cross, looking up at the dark curl that’s landed right between his eyes, and he blows it away. It falls right back where it was, and he throws his arms up in mock frustration.
“Here,“
I say, and rush to him. My hand brushes the curl out of his face, and I fall into the blue pools of his eyes.
Time stops. The two of us are looking at each other. The fingers that brushed the curl from his face tingle, and his eyes soften as a glorious smile stretches across his face.
“Thanks, Peter.”
Click. Click. Click
“Got our first couple shot,“
Sadie announces. “That was gorgeous, guys. More of that when we move on to the two of you.”
We look at her, then at each other. “Sorry. Sorry, I just wanted—
“No! That’s fine—”
“No, I…I’m supposed to be—“
I rush back to the reflector I set on the ground and awkwardly hold it up.
“Yeah, no, definitely,” he adds.
He laughs.
I rub my neck, trying to laugh it off.
Silence.
We turn to Sadie, whose eyes dart between us, her mouth curled into a smirk.
“I think we’ve got a lot of nice shots, Dylan. How about we move on to the couple photos?”