Page 81 of C*cky Best Friend
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Logan
Sunday
Guilford taps on my dressing room door that’s open a crack.
I turn around, curious why he’s coming to talk to me after the show.
I did my best out there, didn’t allow myself to run on automatic just because Ines wouldn’t look at me. The way I figure it, all I have is the integrity to my own standards.
Those people paid for tickets.
I’m not going to phone it in just because there’s drama in my personal life.
They deserve better than that.
When I step onstage, I give my all.
If she doesn’t want to do the same, that’s on her.
But her treatment did nothing to make me doubt our break up.
I’m sure our director has heard the gossip, so I’m preparing to tell him that I can still go on with the shows despite the fact our relationship is severed.
Guilford interrupts my planned launch into defensiveness. “Logan, we’ve lost Dieter. He’s quitting.” Gracefully touching one of my costumes that’s hanging from the rack by my door, he goes on to explain, “I wasn’t here when Asher left the production, as you know, but if I had been I would never have cast an outsider and started from scratch. Not when I had you.” He props himself on a stool, more leaning against it than on it, one of his feet up for balance on the rung. “I want you to take the lead.”
The contrast of being offered the lead role in one area of my life on the same day I quit another, makes me stare at him.
Proud at rendering me speechless, Guilford’s eyes sparkle. “You’re surprised. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why you haven’t asked for the opportunity. I have to think you’re used to settling for less than you deserve.” He tilts his head, curious. “Have you not noticed how much you shine during your understudy performances? How the level of applause is louder than when Dieter performs?”
“I don’t gauge things like that.” With a frown, I add, “I lose myself in what I’m doing, pretend I’m really there.”
“Didn’t Ines point it out, the applause?”
“No.”
He nods, thoughtful as he walks toward my door. “I think your time of being the best friend is over. Rise and take your position as the lead in my production.” He disappears.
His statement ricochets.
Not just in the room.
In my soul.
If he hadn’t said it exactly like that, it might not have struck this chord in me. But he did say it. And now I’m pulling down the postcards I taped as a frame around my mirror from all of the countries we’ve played at. My civilian clothes get shoved into my leather bag with them. I toss the makeup in the trash. Leave behind my costumes for the next guy.
Walking up the dark hallway backstage, I rap on the doors of my cast members, my friends, family away from home, hurriedly barking, “Guys, I’m leaving the show!”
Door after door is flung open by shocked hands.
Everyone is shouting, “Logan’s leaving?” “Why?” “You can’t be serious. Logan, is it true?”
Guilford spins around in his chair in the theater office, eyebrows rising as he sees the crowd with me, its ringleader. “What’s this?”
“I wanted to tell all of you at once, because you all mean so much to me. I can’t possibly scratch the surface of how grateful I am to know you. Guilford, thank you for offering me the lead.” This news sends titters throughout the other cast members. I raise my voice to regain their attention. “But I have to turn it down. I’m in love with a girl back in America. I can’t ignore that anymore. And I can’t let her ignore it, either.”
Guilford stands up, his stance indignant. “You are giving up the opportunity of a lifetime for love?”