Chapter 17
MILES: Hey! How are you guys?
DYLAN: Why? What’s wrong?
OWEN: Do you need me to babysit Macy?
DYLAN: Do you need me to give you some stage performance tips? Here’s one I never thought I’d be giving you: Don’t bone your director until AFTER the show’s run is over.
MILES: Thanks for not telling him, Owen.
MILES: Whatever. I forgive you. We keep it between us, right?
OWEN: Uh-oh. Sounds like you’re a little too late to give Miles that advice, Dylan.
DYLAN: Amateur!
DYLAN: But also—nice! No woman is as beautiful as my fiancée, but I seem to recall considering Aria Cross to be easy on the eyes back when I was single.
MILES: You mean when you were ten? You’re never not single.
OWEN: As I reach back into the recesses of my distant memory, I also recall considering her to be physically appealing.
MILES: I didn’t ask for your opinions.
DYLAN: Would you like some advice as to how to deal with your client whose name rhymes with Schmyler Schmolden?
OWEN: Here’s my pitch: Take out an ad in Variety that’s just a photo of you shrugging and the words: “Can we just redact this part and move on?”
DYLAN: I’d suggest the tagline: “Yo, Tyler. You should have clarified that you didn’t want me to commission your back-end deals. My bad.”
OWEN: That is some high-level shit, little brother.
MILES: I am no longer in a good mood. Thanks a lot, assholes.
DYLAN: Thanks for checking in, dude!
OWEN: We’ll be here all week, Sunshine.
MAMA brODIE: I am truly happy for you, Miles. It is absolutely fine that you did not feel comfortable telling me yourself.
MILES: Thanks, Mama.
POPS brODIE: What exactly are we passive-aggressively happy about today?
MAMA brODIE: Our first-born finally got some.
POPS brODIE: Nice going, son. I knew you would eventually.
MAMA brODIE: Now, was this in any way part of an arrangement to secure that starring role for Macy?
POPS brODIE: Jesus. Bonnie Lyn.
MAMA brODIE: I am simply trying to put the pieces together.
MILES: Separate pieces, Mama. Gotta get to rehearsal now.
MAMA brODIE: I mean no disrespect to my granddaughter.
MILES: It’s fine, Mama. I get it. But these are two unrelated events that happen to involve the same woman.
MAMA brODIE:
MAMA brODIE:
MAMA brODIE:
MAMA brODIE:
MILES: I’m not comfortable with this.
MAMA brODIE: Oh heavens, Miles! You still need to lighten up.
CHLOE: Aria! A-plus second rehearsal. A surprising amount of progress since yesterday.
CHLOE: Let’s talk about how Cheshire McFrowny Suit is now grinning all the time except when he sees you talking to James.
ARIA: He’s just acting the part.
CHLOE: Uh-huh. And which part is he playing as he lightly places the palm of his hand on the small of your back when he thinks no one’s looking?
ARIA: You did not see that.
CHLOE: Oh, but I did! I see all. That’s my job.
ARIA: Shit. Did anyone else see that thing that did not happen?
CHLOE: I was the only one standing behind you guys when it didn’t happen.
ARIA: God, I hope so. Because nothing happened last night. Several times. But it’s not a thing.
CHLOE: I told you.
ARIA: Okay, but seriously. Macy’s going to be okay, right? Now that she knows she’s a soprano. I figured out that she’d been trying to sing like Elsa in Frozen but using her head voice. Now I’ve got her listening to Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.
CHLOE: Yes! You definitely have something to work with now! She’ll be fine.
ARIA: I mean, she GETS it. I really think she’s getting better.
CHLOE: She tries very hard. It’s sweet.
ARIA: She still needs to lighten up, doesn’t she?
CHLOE: She needs to lighten up a fuck ton. But if anyone can lighten her up, it’s you! You’ve already worked your magic on one Brodie!
ARIA: It’s not a thing.
CHLOE: Discreet hand to the small of the back is a thing, sweetie.
ARIA: I loved it.
ARIA: But it’s not a thing.
CHLOE: Got it.