Chapter 27 #2
“No, not really.” He sighs. “These past few shows you haven’t seemed like yourself.” He leans against my dresser. “Choreography is a little sloppy and your voice sounds strained.”
Constructive feedback is something I’ve always appreciated and there’s never been a situation where I couldn’t handle it, but right now, I feel like I’m in the principal’s office and every single one of my flaws is being exposed.
I’m overcome with embarrassment, knowing the entire company witnessed what Chris is telling me now.
There’s nothing I’ve worked harder at than my career, and I hate myself for letting my personal life get in the way.
“Chris, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’ve just been going through some things at home. I promise I won’t let it interfere anymore.”
“I’m putting Becca on for Mimi for next week and you can swing,” he says in a way that tells me this is nonnegotiable, and my whole world is turned upside down.
I’ve never had an understudy take over my role for this reason, and it’s not my pride that’s making me feel nauseated.
It’s that the one thing I know is mine, the one thing I can control, is being taken away from me.
That I wasn’t good enough. That I’m not good enough.
“It’s only temporary, June, but we can’t sacrifice the show. ”
“Of course.” My voice cracks again. “I understand.”
“Okay, thank you.” He nods. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and leaves my dressing room.
Lately, it feels like I’ve been walking around in a dream.
I’m going through the motions, but rarely do they mean anything.
Before shows I don’t seem to remember how I got there.
I now sing in the chorus every night, and don’t feel the electricity I used to when I’m onstage.
I go grocery shopping, and I can’t make anything useful with the things in my cart.
Tonight, I’m at a roller rink that just opened in Brooklyn Heights with Adam, Riley, and Liam, and I don’t know how I got here.
Well, technically I remember how I got here.
Riley briefly came over to the house last week to meet Adam and she suggested we go on a double date because Liam would be in town.
That I remember vividly, because Adam didn’t say a word and I pretty much had to go along with her suggestion like it was a great idea.
So now I’m sitting in a booth directly across from Adam, with Liam to my right.
In any other circumstance I’d probably really enjoy this place—it’s dark with pink, blue, green, and yellow fluorescent lighting everywhere and early-2000s hits playing on the speakers.
It’s pretty packed with a mix of couples, families, and teenagers on their skates and ordering food and drinks at the bar.
I’m fixated on a family across from us with two children.
I would give anything to be sitting at their table.
“So.” Liam looks at Adam and Riley. “How did the two of you meet?”
It’s beyond weird that this is the first time the four of us have been in the same vicinity. I’d barely call Riley more than an acquaintance, and this is the first time Adam’s meeting Liam.
“Oh,” Riley laughs, and loops her arm into Adam’s. “Baby, do you want to tell it?”
I feel sick, for two reasons. One, that she just called him baby, and two, that it sounds like this is a question they get asked often.
“Uh, well, I was at an art show in Williamsburg…” he says, and I already feel like I’ve heard this story one too many times. “And she was one of the artists.” He looks over at Riley and squeezes her hand. It’s subtle, but I noticeit.
“Okay, way to downplay it,” she says, and playfully rolls her eyes. “He was looking at one of my pieces, so I went up to him and asked what he liked about it…He was singing my praises, and he didn’t even know it was mine,” she says.
“Well, clearly that’s the takeaway here,” Liam says playfully. “Riley is one of the most talented and innovative artists of our generation!”
“Oh, stop it, stop it,” Riley pretends to object, but her hands wave toward herself in a keep going, keep going gesture.
“Did you study art in school?” Liam asks.
“No, actually! I have a business degree—would you believe it?” She laughs. “My dad’s an investor and wanted me to follow in his footsteps…but painting is my first love.”
“That’s awesome.” Liam nods encouragingly. “I think it’s so admirable when people follow their dreams.”
It takes every muscle in my body to actively keep myself from rolling my eyes.
Riley takes a sip of beer and then nods in Liam’s direction. “So what do you like better, New York or LA?”
“That’s everyone’s favorite question, isn’t it?” He looks at me, and I force a smile. “I mean, LA has the weather and the ocean…but New York has June.”
“ Aww.” Riley leans into Adam and puts her head on his shoulder.
The thing about Liam is that he’s charismatic, the life of the party; in another life he could have run for Congress and gotten everyone’s vote.
While he means every word, he still knows exactly what to say in every situation.
Seeing Adam and Riley together across from me, her arm looped around his, makes me realize that maybe I shouldn’t take Liam for granted.
“Are you saying that I’m better than a morning surf session?” I try to quip.
“Well, now you’re fishing.” Liam nudgesme.
“Have you ever been, June?” Riley asks. “To LA?”
“I haven’t,” I say, playing with the plastic straw in my vodka soda. “It’s just hard with the show, but it’s something we’ve talked about.”
“I keep trying to convince June to move to LA and pursue film and TV,” Liam says. “I have a screen test lined up for her at the studio—she just needs to get her ass over there.” He playfully nudges me, and I let out an uncomfortable smile.
“Oh my God, why don’t you?!” Riley sits up. “You have the perfect face for the big screen too. Doesn’t she, baby?”
My eyes travel to Adam, who looks uncomfortable with this whole conversation. But I’m waiting for his answer with bated breath, because we haven’t really spoken to each other in weeks. I’m desperate for any type of exchange with him.
Adam looks at me, really looks at me, probably for the first time in weeks, and for a split second, I forget where we are and whom we’re with. I can’t believe that a month ago we were so close to being something else and lately it’s like we’re strangers.
“You do,” he says, and now it’s even harder for me to breathe.
“Well.” Liam stands, and the movement makes me flinch. “I think I’m going to try hitting the rink. Anyone else want to join?”
“Yeah, why not?” Adam moves past Riley and stands.
“I’m good for now.” I lift my glass, still dizzy from the previous topic. “Going to finish my drink.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Riley says, smiling, and then looks at Adam and Liam. “It’ll give us time to talk about you both.”
Perfect.
Adam’s eyes cut to me, and he gives a tight-lipped smile. The two of them line up for their skates and I wonder what they could possibly be talking about. But I’m more curious if Adam is as uncomfortable being alone with Liam as I am with Riley.
“Sooo.” Riley scoots over to where Adam was sitting. “How’s the show going?”
“It’s good,” I say, and avoid saying much else.
I’m still not back to playing the role of Mimi, and it doesn’t look like that’s changing anytime soon.
I haven’t told anyone about the new arrangement and even if I did, Riley is the last person I’d want to talk with about taking a mental health break.
“I’m definitely going to have to see a show sometime. I keep asking Adam but he’s always busy. You know him,” she laughs.
There’s an unfamiliar, territorial feeling that comes over me.
Why yes, I know Adam. I know what makes him tick, how he hates people who walk slow, his hopes and dreams, the pasta sauce recipe his grandmother passed down to him, how there’s nobody harder on him than himself, that he thinks The Godfather is overrated, and how he keeps a photo of his mom and Sarah in his wallet. Yes, Riley, I know Adam.
“Yeah, those restaurant shifts are killer,” I say.
“Ugh, brutal! Between that and all those business meetings.”
My pride takes a jab when I don’t know exactly what business meetings she’s referring to. But I don’t ask any further details, because the small, immature side of me doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction.
I change the subject. “How are things with you?”
“Oh, you know an artist’s life, waiting for my next painting to sell or the next art show to be booked.” In that way we’re similar, choosing unstable career paths because of our passion, and I commend her for it. “But the apartment hunting is going well.”
“You’re moving?” I ask.
“Yeah!” She nods. “Crazy, isn’t it? I mean Adam’s been at my place almost every night these past couple of weeks. And I’ve been meaning to find a bigger place anyway.”
My head cocks to the side, not wanting to assume, but unsure of what she’s tellingme.
“Have you and Adam…are you thinking of…” I try to phrase my question. “Moving in together?”
“ Oh, nothing is official yet.” She blushes like I’m one of her girlfriends. “I mean, we’ve talked about it, but he’s so focused on work right now it’s hard for him to think about anything else.”
They’ve talked aboutit.
They’ve talked about moving in together.
They’ve talked about a future.
They’ve fucking talked aboutit.