Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Playing: Mine by Sleep Token
We fall into a routine. Rehearsal seems to go better since Jett and I had our talk.
We fall into the roles of two professionals, not letting our hidden entanglement mess with the play.
It’s even better that we’ve been focusing on separate scenes.
There’s more to the play than just Romeo and Juliet, and it’s so cool to watch everybody embody their characters more and more as the weeks go by.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with Stacia and Opal.
Neither of them push me to talk about the…
situation with my scent match and his pack mates.
They’ve accepted that it’s going to take me some time to come around on that.
Whenever Opal isn’t napping—which is a lot honestly—we’re all together, having sleepovers and eating our feelings with whatever takeout we’re obsessed with at the time. All for different reasons, of course.
Stacia has been stressed out over her manuscript.
It’s a full- fleshed out spicy romantasy and she’s recently discovered several plot holes that have left her in a bind.
The reason we are hanging out so much is because Atlas asked me to help get her away from her desk, even if it’s just small spurts at a time.
Little vacation hangouts. Of course, Stacia and I have already talked about it and she has admitted to being a little bit intense over her story, but she’s happy to know her mates are looking out for her, even if that means forcing her away from her computer.
On the other hand, Opal is completely checked out right now.
She’s been studying to be an elementary school teacher since she started at Bensen.
She says she doesn’t want to do anything else with her life.
Still, she’s nervous about her Student Teaching assignment that starts next semester and said that trying to find the right placement has been a struggle.
I can see that preparing for next semester while still having a load of classwork this semester has taken a toll on her.
Not to mention her anxiety over her scent match.
I haven’t felt comfortable enough to push her to figure it out, not anymore.
The situation isn’t so black and white, not the way you’d think it would be if you were on the right side.
She has enough on her plate, and I’m sure Sam does too with his Philanthropy and getting to know his other scent match.
Both of them—gosh I love them, having girl friends is the best—are waiting for me back at home right now. I heard there’s going to be wine and chocolate and a teary rewatch of The Notebook (which I’m not ashamed of loving in the slightest) when I join them.
I just have to survive rehearsal first.
“Rory, how many times do I have to tell you? You are in love . Nothing else matters,” my professor proclaims.
The groan I want to let out gets interrupted by another chirping voice. “I thought that was something all omegas dreamed of. Finding their scent matches so they can just rot in society.”
Nicole’s high-pitched voice pierces my eardrum and causes me to curse.
“There’s no need to curse at me. I am the one that grades you at the end of the semester, you know,” my professor lectures me as everyone stands around, too afraid to speak up.
I can see the sympathetic glances from my peers, even the students from the tech class that’s doing the stage work as part of their exam.
I know they want to help, but being on both our professor’s and Nicole’s shit list doesn’t seem worth it.
A part of me feels glad that people know I can handle it. But another part of me can’t handle it. Not when it’s twice a week and in a class that I was originally so excited to take.
“Sorry, Professor Chapman,” I grit out before going back to my spot. I have the blocking down, but apparently Juliet still isn’t ‘demure’ enough for these two.
I don’t really give a flying fuck, but I guess I’m not the director.
“Alright, from the top,” Professor Chapman says as soon as Jett comes back from the bathroom. Even with the way I feel about him and our situation, I know he would have stood up for me if he were here moments ago. He can feel the tension the second he saddles up next to me.
“What happened?” he whispers to me. I shake my head but he growls out a warning, “Rory.”
“Just the same ol’ bullshit,” I say in Juliet’s demure voice that Professor Chapman has had me practice. He even wants me to change my voice. Apparently I’m too alto for him.
“It’s still a bit pitchy,” Nicole hisses at me as she walks by, which is rich coming from her.
“At least I’m not bitchy,” I mutter more to myself than anyone but Jett snorts anyway. Nicole’s head whips back to us but by some miracle decides to keep walking to her spot anyway.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jett says to me but it’s time to start the scene so I don’t have a chance to respond.
I finally feel a bit more relaxed and confident when we move on to Act 4, Scene 1.
The classmate who was cast as Friar Laurence—Rocco Lombardi—is extraordinary.
I’m not quite sure why he wasn’t given a bigger part, but his monologue gives me chills every time.
Working alongside him feels like an honor.
“Rory!” I hear and I snap out of my internal thoughts of praise I had for my classmate. I blink slowly at my professor. We just finished the ending lines, so it’s not like I forgot to say something.
“You are monotone. There needs to be more emotion here, more theatrics.”
My eyebrow flies up. I was being very theatrical. I honestly thought it was a bit too much, but remembered his note from last time. Still, I give him a tight smile. “Yes, sir.”
I hear Nicole snickering from the front row and refuse to look at her.
“Do it again,” my professor demands and we get right into it.
We do the scene over and over again. No matter how I change up the lines or the movement, he isn’t satisfied with me. Every person in this room is frustrated. Whether it’s at me or him, I’m not sure but it doesn’t feel good regardless.
We’re a whole forty minutes past the end of rehearsal when Rocco speaks up.
“Professor. Some of us have jobs we need to get to or homework to do for class tomorrow,” he says, not unkindly.
I know he’s got to be just as fed up as everyone else, more so even because of the repetition.
We actors value our voices, and don’t like to strain them if we don’t have to .
“Fine,” Mr. Chapman responds and then he throws his script down at his feet. “But Rory, you need to work on this. Get it perfect. This scene is supposed to be powerful and right now you are mucking it up .”
I flinch but nod anyway. The singed smell of amber reaches my nose and then Jett is at my side. I can hear the steady growl coming from his throat.
“Good,” our professor continues. “You’re dismissed.”
People immediately run to get their stuff, but not faster than me. I grab my bag in record time and haul it out of there, leaving Jett behind because I can’t stand to see the pity on his face.
Or the mocking triumph on Nicole’s.
The cool October air hits me as I slam the door to the building open. I speed walk as fast as I can, but my scent match is faster.
“Rory! Please wait.”
Despite my original intention, I stop and turn to him. He almost runs into me but uses his reflexes to stop at the right time. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nods, already knowing how I feel about it. “We have to figure something out. He can’t keep treating you like that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“That’s what we keep saying to justify it, but what if it’s true? What if I’m not doing everything I can to connect to this character?” I barely listen to my own omega, how am I supposed to listen to someone else’s?
“Stop,” he says sternly. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are an amazing actress. I’ve known it for years. Professor Chapman has his own shit to work through and he’s projecting it onto you.”
I shake my head and then let out a disgruntled yell. “I just don’t understand how to get him off my back . I should have never gone for this stupid role.”
“Rory,” he warns. His hands flex beside him like he wants to grab my shoulders and knock some sense into me.
I try not to fixate on the veins flowing down his arms. “You can’t dim yourself to make other people comfortable.
Let that light shine, and forget about the people that are running around in the dark.
They’re afraid of people like you. Seriously, fuck them. ”
The sentiment causes a slight upturn to the corner of my lip, but the nasty second-hand feelings from rehearsal still clings to me like rust.
“I’ll try to not let it get to me anymore,” I whisper.
He shakes his head again. “You can feel any way you want. But bite back , protect your energy. You deserve to be the magnificent person you are.”
I open my mouth to respond but notice that there’s a slight… purring, just barely noticeable along with the sound of the wind.
My gaze falls to Jett’s chest, where the sound is thrumming strong and heavy. My eyes widen before darting back to his.
He’s purring for me.
“Sorry.” Jett’s hand comes up to his chest and rubs at it, feeling the unfamiliar rumbles for himself. “I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s ok,” I respond, and I don’t think I’m lying. Something about the sound, the slight sweetness of his scent, causes my skin to erupt in goosebumps. “I… I think I like it.”
He takes the inch I give him and opens up his arms, inviting me in. Every logical part of me says I shouldn’t, but I float over to him on autopilot. The second his arms wrap around me, my entire body relaxes and I put my cheek to his chest without any hesitation.
With both the pheromones and the purring, I feel completely invisible to the world.
We’re in our own little blissful bubble for a few minutes, and it’s the most comforting moment of my life.
Instead of freaking out when our classmates start to pile out of the building, we pull apart with indecision, knowing the uncertainty of ever being in this position again.
“Thank you.” The quiet words fall from my lips and even though I know I shouldn’t, I meet his gaze. The expression he gives me in response is one of adoration, and it hits me right in the gut.
“Text me if you need anything.” He looks as though he wants to do anything but walk away. At the same time, he knows the moment is over, that I could freak out at any moment. He knows that I need more time.
Even though I know it’s true too, I wish it wasn’t. As I watch him walk away, I picture what it would be like to let him stay… and it doesn’t sound like the nightmare it was yesterday.