Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
“The sun rises.”
—“To Troy,” The Wooden Horse, Act One
Colbie loomed in Evie’s office, her hands flying over the keyboard on her laptop, eyes burning. Her red hair fell over her
face, and if Jonah squinted his eyes, she looked like her head was made of flames, angry, always angry. He knocked on the
door frame and her head snapped up toward him, unlit cigarette between her lips, and she pointed to the chair opposite her
desk.
“Sit,” she instructed, and Jonah hesitated, not wanting to take orders from her as if he were a dog, but he did as she said
and sat awkwardly as she placed her cigarette down next to her laptop.
“Why the hell have I had your manager on the phone to me this morning informing me you will not be renewing your contract
for another year?” Colbie asked, placing her hands flat on the wood of her desk and leaning forward to peer at him from behind
wisps of red hair. “Don’t you think this is something we should have been discussing ourselves? If you had talked to me, you
would know we have planned to keep you on here for as long as possible.”
He knew her words weren’t fully honest; they only came from losing Bastien and Dexter, and now losing Jonah as well. Principal
roles were often changed from year to year, it wasn’t unusual to have an entirely new cast for a new season, but she was losing
three powerhouses all in one fell swoop and it wasn’t her choice to get rid of them.
“I thought it best to let Melanie deal with it, as she handles my contracts,” Jonah said. “It’s time for me to move on.”
“You’re making a huge mistake,” she said, tapping her long fingernails against the desk. “This role is what’s put your name
on the map. You were nothing before coming here.”
“Well, I know that’s not true,” he said, and noticed just how calm he felt talking with her. “I can’t deny this role has been
amazing for me, but to say I was nothing is a bit of a low blow, Colbie.”
“You can’t be going on to be doing something bigger than this. You’re first billed, Jonah, it’s your face on the promotional
material, your name people recognize. I know what shows have been casting, and I know what shows are going to be opening.
The only thing worth your time would have been Crazy for You, but we both know Dexter landed that.” She couldn’t have known about Cabaret; her comment only solidified that. Julianna kept the show on a strictly need-to-know basis, wanting to make the announcement
as spectacular as possible.
“I’m not sure what the point you’re trying to make here is?”
“I’m basically saying you’re taking a step backward. Why do you want to leave for something that will no doubt only make you
fade into the background?”
Jonah ran his tongue along his teeth as he thought of what to say. He didn’t want to burn bridges with her, but at the same
time, working with Colbie Paris again wasn’t on his list of things to ever do again.
“I’ve not been happy with the way I’ve been treated here.”
Colbie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean? Who’s treated you badly?”
“You surely can’t be that oblivious, Colbie.”
She cocked her head slightly and rested against the back of her chair. “You’ve been unhappy with the way I’ve treated you? I’m sorry, Jonah, but I fail to see how anything I’ve ever done could be seen as mistreatment. I’m barely here.”
“My dad died, and you called me repeatedly to tell me how me being off from the show was an inconvenience. You’ve constantly made me feel like I’m not good enough to be here.
You told me I had to help ticket sales by forging a fake friendship with someone and tried to control my personal social media accounts.
You’re unprofessional, Colbie, and I don’t want to work in this environment anymore. ”
Colbie’s mouth twisted, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m running a business here, Jonah. I need to know when
my cast is going to be at work. I don’t think calling you to ask that is unreasonable.”
“I get that, but I didn’t need the guilt trip to go along with it. It’s why I have an agent, so you can talk to her when I’m
not able to answer those questions. My dad had just died. I didn’t care about this place. At all.”
“Fine.” She held her hands up in surrender. “But the other stuff? Social media is a tricky thing, people follow you because
you’re in the show and they want to know about your life. Plus, it’s not like I asked you to lie, is it? You and Dexter seem
perfectly happy to me.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“What’s the point, then, Jonah?”
“It’s not right to make someone feel like they’re constantly walking on eggshells. I’ve never felt so insecure in a position
before. It’s the weird mind games—”
“You really should choose your next words carefully if you want to ever work with me again, Jonah.”
“I don’t want to work with you again, Colbie.” He knew admitting it to her face would blacklist him with her production company, CPTG,
forever, but fuck it, he couldn’t let himself be treated the same way ever again. Not by her. Not by anyone else. “You won’t
change. Why would you?” He waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t, he sighed and pushed out the chair to stand.
“I’m guessing we’re done here, then?”
“I guess so.”
“I still love this show,” Jonah said seriously. “And I’m never going to look back on it with anything other than the best
memories, because I’ve worked with some of the most talented and nicest people in the industry.”
“Good for you, Jonah,” Colbie said and waved her hand in the air, brushing away his words. “Get out of my sight and let’s
finish off these last few months so I can see the back of you.”
Jonah let out a short, bitter laugh. She looked at him, her face unreadable.
He thought he might have seen a flicker of regret there, but to expect any such emotion from Colbie was like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Colbie Paris. The woman with fire for hair, who no longer dazzled Jonah like she used to, would now just be a shadow in the wings.
There must have been a time when Jonah didn’t feel exhausted, when his body didn’t cry out for sleep and his feet weren’t
covered in blisters. Going from rehearsals for Cabaret to the shows at the Persephone seemed fine in theory, but actually doing it for the past few months was absolutely not fine.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying himself; he was, he loved the days in the studio with the people who were going to be his
new theatre family; he loved working with Julianna, her professionalism and attention to detail beyond anything he could have
imagined. He got to work long hours with Omari, who’d also secretly auditioned for the show and would be joining as one of
the Kit Kat Club dancers. A beautiful ensemble role he would absolutely shine in. Which meant he received even more daily
reminders to stay away from dairy and to cleanse his skin each and every second he wasn’t rehearsing. His mind and body were
exhausted. But he also loved going to the Persephone after rehearsals, putting on his costume for Achilles, and belting out
song after song to sold-out audiences while sneaking in kisses with Dexter any moment he could.
Being at the theatre also meant he could comfort Sherrie, who seemed to burst into tears every time she saw him. She did the
same to Bastien and Omari, her emotions surrounding them leaving far too great for her to handle. Jonah did his best to reassure
her they’d still be friends, but he could see the uncertainty behind her eyes. Jonah knew theatre schedules could be notoriously
unkind to friendships between shows. But they would make it work. At the very least, he knew he would be there to listen to
her updates on her continuously baffling relationship with Romana. And in return, Sherrie promised to listen to Jonah talk
about Dexter, though their romance contained far less drama than hers, which Jonah was eternally grateful for.
They somehow managed to settle back into their relationship quickly, invading each other’s dressing rooms and heading back to Camden together after the shows.
They split their nights between their homes, Jonah’s clean but untidy place on Castle Road and Dexter’s show-home level of organization and cleanliness over on Lawford.
Some nights they said very little on their way home, both too tired; but just being together, palm to palm, created a deep sense of comfort.
He craved more time with him, time to go on dates, time to run away and get lost in each other for hours on end, and time to talk into the early hours of the morning.
Time they simply didn’t have. For when Jonah was rehearsing for Cabaret, Dexter put in the hours for Crazy for You, and the blisters on his feet were even worse than Jonah’s.
“I think . . . I think my toes might actually fall off,” Dexter said one night after they got back home and he pried his shoes
from his feet. “I can’t feel them. Can they fall off, is that a thing?” Then, after spending ten minutes on Google and convincing
himself he had the start of gangrene, Jonah talked him out of going to the hospital to request his toes be amputated. The
two of them sat on the edge of the bathtub and bathed their feet until one in the morning while sipping on glasses of wine.
Now, though, as they took to the stage for The Wooden Horse for the final time, Jonah pushed aside the pain in his body and physical and emotional exhaustion; this would be his farewell
to Achilles, to the role that made him an Olivier winner. The role that introduced him to the absolute whirlwind known as
Dexter Ellis and gave him the confidence to know he was better than what Colbie Paris thought of him.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Bastien said from the wings as he dabbed the sleeve of his costume against his eyes.
“Goddammit, I’m crying already.”
“Stop it,” Omari hissed as he started to cry. “You’ve set me off, you bastard.”