Page 106 of Broken Romeo
That’s a question I’ve been avoiding asking myself. “I don’t even officially have the contract for the show yet,” I whisper, making sure no one is listening to us. “I have to finish my two-week trial first.”
Which is over after this weekend. This is it. My last chance to show Holden that I can do this. Even with the security of him paying for my apartment, that’s no guarantee. Not if things go south.
Nolan shakes his head, regarding me with a smile. “You’ll get that contract. You’re killing these rehearsals.”
I do feel confident lately. And Nolan is right. It’s probably a good idea to get out there and network. Whether I land this contract or not, it would serve me well to meet some other producers and directors.
“Okay, fine,” I agree. “I’ll go with you tomorrow night. Happy?”
His grin widens, and he hops off the stage. As he backs his way down the aisle, he points at me dramatically. “Almost. Ask me again tomorrow at the party! I still think you might chicken out!” He kisses his middle and index finger and splits them in a peace sign. “Deuces! Nolan out!”
“You’re such a nerd!” I shout after him as those peace fingers morph to flipping me off before the door to the theater shuts behind him.
“Party?” Holden’s voice is rough behind me.
My skin pricks with gooseflesh and I take an extra moment to gather myself together before turning to face him.
I shake my head and wave Holden off. “That’s just Nolan being Nolan.”
“You say that like you’ve known Nolan more than nine days.”
Change the subject. My brain skitters, unable to think of something non-Nolan or non-party related to talk about. Cats? No. Theater? Ugh, no. Too much theater talk lately overall. Football? Hm. Football could work.
Before I can bring it up, he asks, “So… you’re going to a party? With Nolan?”
“Not with him. We’re going as… friends.”
“Friends?”
“Colleagues,” I clarify quickly. “He thought I might want to meet some industry people at the opening night party for some new show.”
Holden’s face drains of color. “Pillow Fight?”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s the one.”
He shakes his head violently and reaches for my hand, clutching it. “Don’t go to that party.”
“What? Why?”
I try to wrench my hand back, but he holds tight. “I… I can’t explain yet. But please. Just trust me on this. It’s in everyone’s best interest if you don’t come.”
I’m not sure how to respond. He seems genuinely concerned. Like this party is a life-or-death situation. Then again, everything with Holden feels like life or death. Every look in my direction, every touch of hands, every smile or frown could be our last until we go back to being strangers who never speak again.
After a few moments of silence, Holden says, “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Nolan—” Holden’s eyes flutter closed, and I seize the opportunity to yank my hand away from him, flinging them into the air.
“Oh, my God. Nothing! Nothing is going on with me and Nolan. He’s being nice. He’s being my friend. He’s treating me like a colleague in his industry and not some project he’s attempting to tackle!”
Holden’s face goes stony at that accusation. “I’m not treating you like a project—”
“Aren’t you? I have to rehearse double the amount of time as Nolan. And face it, it’s not because I’m a bad actress! You said it yourself in your journal dozens of times… I’m a good actress. Great, even.” It’s taken me twenty-three years to be able to look in a mirror and give myself a compliment like that, but in that moment, I realize how true it is.
“You are a good actress—I’ve said so a million times. But you’re also guarded. And you make safe acting choices. I’m trying to draw more of a raw performance out of you.”
I fold my arms and glare at him dead in the eye. “Maybe the problem isn’t me not being a good enough actress. Maybe the problem is you’re not a good enough director. You want to talk vulnerability, Holden? Look in a goddamn mirror.”
“I gave you my fucking journal. It doesn’t get much more vulnerable than that.”
“Doesn’t it?”