Chapter 32 #2
“I’m right here with you, okay?” Jonah whispered and took Bastien’s hand into his. “Patroclus and Achilles forever, right?”
Bastien’s face crumpled as more tears fell from his eyes. “Don’t say shit like that, Jonah. For God’s sake, I’m an emotional
mess, why are you making me cry more? You’re such an arsehole.”
Jonah laughed and pulled his friend into a hug. “Save the tears for later, okay? Let’s go out there and give the best performance we’ve ever done, yeah?”
“Deal,” Bastien mumbled, then pulled away to take a deep breath and fan his hand in front of his eyes. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.”
But he cried, he cried more than Jonah thought humanly possible. The moment Bastien stepped out onto the stage the audience
erupted into applause, and he stood for a few seconds, not able to say his lines because of the deafening sound of cheers.
Jonah smiled from the wings as he watched his friend try to subtly wipe the tears from his eyes, but the audience didn’t care.
They only clapped more until finally dying down to allow the show to continue. They offered the same respect for all the cast
members who were due to take their final bows that night, and when Jonah made his entrance, the world stopped for a minute.
He looked out at the crowd, their faces beaming, and for the briefest of moments, he thought he saw his dad in the same seat
he sat in opening night. He could see his sea-blue eyes and wispy hair, the smile on his face showing nothing but pride for
his son. He wanted to reach out to him, to tell him how much he missed him. But even though Jonah knew it wasn’t him, he allowed
himself to believe it until the cheering went quiet and he started to sing. His father remained in the seat until the song
ended, then he turned back into just any other man. Jonah thanked him silently for being there, for always being there.
Performing Achilles for the last time wasn’t as gut-wrenching as he expected, probably because he knew it wasn’t just him
leaving; most of the cast were moving on, leaving only a couple to stay for the next year. The next time the curtains opened
at the Persephone there would be a new Achilles, and he would be played differently, with different movements and mannerisms.
Jonah didn’t mourn the Achilles he knew; he was part of him now, and the legacy Jonah left behind was not something to despair
over, just the end of a chapter in a book, ready to be taken over by a new main character.
As the cast took to the stage for their final bows, Dexter smiled brightly at Jonah and he reached for his hand, so they bowed in unison with the rest of the cast. When they stood, every single member of the audience got to their feet, and Jonah tried to take in every one of their faces no matter how impossible that was.
He saw his mum in the stalls with Aunt Penny and Sally, her hands clapping above her head as she whooped and cheered for him, the skeletal woman he knew her as a few months ago replaced by a beacon of health.
He knew the path she walked would forever be a rocky one, but one she didn’t walk alone.
He waved at them, and they waved back, cheering even louder, and he laughed as Sally and Penny danced happily in the small space in front of their seats.
He turned his head to look at Dexter, to watch him reveling in the applause, but Dexter was looking at him, his eyes glassy,
and he gently cupped Jonah’s cheek and pulled him close to kiss him, center stage, in front of everyone. He first kissed him
on this stage, not that he considered it their first real kiss, but this was where it started, Jonah knew it. The crowd cheered
again, as did the cast, who were hugging and laughing around them, the happiness surrounding them beyond anything Jonah could
have possibly imagined. He tried not to cry, but Dexter was there, his arm wrapped around him, and the lump in Jonah’s throat
grew until he was blinking back tears and trying his hardest to remember he needed to breathe.
At some point the backstage crew came out with flowers, handing them to the cast members leaving, and Jonah tried to juggle
his massive bouquet as he pulled out a scrunched-up piece of paper from the belt of his costume, all while being handed a
microphone to speak. He cleared his throat and the audience went quiet, as phones came out to take photos and videos of the
speech he was about to give. He didn’t actually want to give the speech; the graduating cast wrote it one night while hanging
out late at The Roundhouse, and voted Jonah as their spokesperson despite his protests. And now, standing in front of his
friends and the hundreds of people who came out to see them, he suddenly felt nervous, as if he were walking to the stage
to collect his Olivier all over again.
“Thank you so much for the love you’ve shown us all tonight,” he said as Bastien wrapped his arm behind his back and Dexter smiled fondly at them both from behind his own bouquet.
“For a lot of us, this is our final night here at the Persephone performing The Wooden Horse.
This show is special to so many people. It tells a story of love, betrayal, family, and hope. The message of everlasting
love is still relevant today, and we can look at Helen and Paris, and Patroclus and Achilles and see ourselves in them, in
the way they loved so fiercely that we still tell the story of the face that launched a thousand ships to this day. The characters
we play are from Greek mythology, but their emotions and actions are as real as we are standing here up on this stage.” The
paper shook in his hands as he spoke, and he felt Bastien press closer to him, his anchor, as always. “So, thank you for being
part of this journey with us. And thank you to everyone involved in the show. We will always hold our memories here at the
Persephone close in our hearts, and we hope you remember our voices for years to come.”
As they walked offstage, he saw Sherrie in the wings as she pulled Romana into a kiss, the two of them fitting together perfectly,
almost like a harmony written just for them. If they could make it work, they could be beautiful together, and he hoped the
Persephone would be kind to them. He looked over his shoulder one last time at the audience in the beautiful theatre. The
red velvet, the sparkling chandeliers, and ornate coving and paintings on the ceiling all looked back and bowed to him, and
there, in the wings, he bowed back and said his goodbye to the stage of the Persephone.