Seeing Matt’s Stars: Part 4

Lecture halls +hats =good. Profs who take attendance… not so good. Ever have half a room start taking pictures of you when the teacher calls role? I officially have.

The text came around noon, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at it, feeling a bit bad at the same time. People needed to realize the human being quality of Matt, as in the fact that he was one. We hadn’t seen each other terribly much during the couple weeks before classes started, but he never failed to text me at least once or twice a day, sometimes more. Sam wasn’t very happy about it, but I managed to keep my phone out of sight when he was around, a chore in itself.

The few times I did see him, it was mostly to help him out with something: organizing his apartment, showing him where certain things were in town, and random other stuff like that. He was very down-to-earth, and great to hang out with. No one would guess he was a rich movie star from the way he acted.

Just as I was about to send him a text back, my phone buzzed to life again.

FOUND HIM: Green baseball cap, blue t-shirt and khaki shorts, by the student center.

With a slight moan, I exited the text and opened a new one.

I hope you brought a change of clothes to campus.

Why’s that?

Because I’m not necessarily what you would call part of the “in crowd”, so if I just got a text informing me of your current attire and location, so did everyone else.

So. Awesome.

The sarcasm was obvious, especially knowing his views on people going out of their way to catch a glimpse of him. I wanted to offer him something that would make the situation seem like it sucked less, but before I could think of anything, he sent another message.

Where’s a superhero when I need one?

Once again, a superhero line was going to sell it for him. It took me a moment to think, but only a moment.

She’s sitting in the lounge of the theatre building with a plan.

The text sent as I opened the door to the building, greeting some people with waves as I walked in, saying hello to those I hadn’t talked to in a while. Doing the best I could to get myself a bit more isolated from everyone else, I sat down at a café style table where no one else sat. Slipping a book out of my bag, I opened to the bookmarked page and began to read. Since everyone in the theatre department knew everyone else in the theatre department, it was almost strange to see someone choose to sit alone, but I thought it best.

Unfortunately, someone else thought it best to come and sit by me. “Hey, Charley, I have a question about auditions this weekend.” As an assistant stage manager, and with general auditions for all of the semester’s shows coming up, this was a normal interaction for me.

“Yeah, Donna, what’s up?” I set the bookmark back against the rightful page, avoiding the temptation to look at my watch.

“Do you think that…” Her eyes shot upward halfway the sentence, as if something had startled her. Slowly, her mouth fell open.

Oh no… Was all I had time to think before a hand fell on my shoulder. “Charley?”

I looked up at Matt standing behind me, his fingers barely brushing my neck. He looked both relieved and nervous at the same time. “Matt Ringler!” Bellowed would be the most accurate way to describe the way Donna called out his name. Heads began to turn quickly. Just as quickly, people were on their feet walking over.

I tried to get up and lead him out of the room, but they were too fast. If this weren’t the only way into the building, I would have chosen an alternate route. Matt audibly groaned, his smile close to painful, but he smiled.

Ten minutes, and lots of handshakes and random other forms of contact and squeals later, I managed to get him out of the room and down the stairs, claiming the costume shop needed to get his measurements. Lucky for us, no one seemed to remember that it was before auditions, and the costume shop doesn’t do measurements until a part’s been cast.

Also lucky for us, no one insisted on following us down to the shop, since I was stupid enough to tell them exactly where we were going. “Well… hopefully that was a onetime thing.” Despite his joking tone, he didn’t sound all that confident. I gave him a look saying I agreed. “So, what are we doing down in the dungeons?” It was true, the basement wasn’t as welcoming as it could have been, the walls just a little too close together, the hint of musky air.

“I told you, I have a plan.” He gave me that look again, this time with a hint less assessment and significantly more intrigue. My stomach gave a lurch, but I chose to ignore it, instead pushing forward to the costume shop. Since it was lunch time, all of the workers were out on a break and only the older shop supervisor was there. “Hey, Julie,” I called to her. “Would it be possible to borrow a t-shirt and a hat? Nothing fancy.”

As soon as she saw it was me, she smiled. “Sure, hon. What size do you need?” I pointed to Matt standing next to me. Julie needed to look at him for less than a second before smiling, knowingly, and walking over to a small closet and pulling out a couple articles. “Here you go, kiddo.” She handed them to Matt, a plain red t-shirt and a black baseball cap.

“Thank you.” The warmth of Matt’s smile, as if this were one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him, gave my heart one more reason to flutter. I reminded it to stop.

We walked back out into the hall. My plan was the lead him to the nearest dressing room so he could change, but as soon as the door closed behind us, he tossed his hat to the floor and stripped his shirt off over his head. “Whoa!” I turned away from him sharply, though not quite quickly enough to miss the view of his solid chest. “A warning would have been nice. Flashing lights or… loud sirens or something…”

“Sorry. I was just really excited to get the trackers off me. I wasn’t thinking you’d be shy.”

“I wasn’t thinking you would be into public indecency.”

He laughed, once again placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’s safe to look. Everything is covered up.” I glanced tentatively back toward him, seeing that he was, in fact, dressed. Rolling my eyes, I began to lead him away. “Charley.” With a soft tug on my shoulder, he spun me to face him. “You are… slyly brilliant. Thank you for thinking of this. And, I am very sorry if I offended you just now.” The words were far from condescending, and it was easy to see he was not making fun of my reaction. It was a genuine apology.

“Five years in competitive marching band in high school didn’t exactly shield me from random undress. It’s just been a while since someone has randomly yanked off his own clothing in front of me.” This wasn’t entirely true. Being around actors all the time and working backstage in shows meant I was almost constantly around people undressing or undressed. For whatever reason, I reacted strangely to Matt. The logical answer was probably that I had thought, given the number of people who constantly tried to get to him, he would value his privacy. It surprised me that he let go of privacy in a moment when he could have had it.

A teasing smile slid over his features, interrupting my thoughts. “What? The fiancé doesn’t give you any good shows?”

The image of Sam doing anything of the like brought a bad taste to my mouth. “Definitely not. Besides, even if he did…” I jabbed him in the stomach, “… it wouldn’t exactly be that. Now come on, maybe I can find you a window to crawl out of or something.”

Rather than lead him back the way we came in, I turned instead toward the back stairway toward the stage, the one that cut through the shop. While there wasn’t another entrance to the building, the wood shop did have a loading dock door that was usually left open when the weather was nice. Matt kept up as I twisted through the random hallways of the most illogical building on campus, but didn’t speak until we reached the opened door. “What are you doing for lunch today?”

His eyes were on me, that smile on his face. I needed to stop letting that do things to my stomach. “Actually, I’m…” As if on cue, my phone started to ring. I dug into my pocket for it. “…having lunch with the person who is probably calling me right now. Hello?”

The cynicism was apparent before he even spoke. “I hear you’re with that movie star dick again.”

“Why do you have to… Sam, I was just helping with something, okay?” I had the patience of a saint with everyone but him. My annoyance shot up, but I still tried to keep my voice steady, not wanting Matt to hear what was being said. My words were purposely as vague as I could make them.

“Oh yeah, okay. So that’s why you take him down to the basement when everyone’s out to lunch.”

Once again, I held up a single finger to Matt, asking him to give me just one second. Stepping around the corner, I spoke in a hushed, yet pointed manner. “How the hell do you know where I just was? And when the hell are you going to have your friends stop watching me for you? In case you don’t remember, Sam, it wasn’t me who went off fooling around with someone else. And don’t think that I believe for even one second that it was only that one time, or that one person.”

“Yeah, says the girl who won’t put out — or do anything else for that matter — for a guy she’s been seeing for over a year. A guy she’s engaged to.”

“Oh, of course, so it’s my fault. No one said you had to keep dating me. If all you want is a cheap fuck you can go somewhere else.” My voice rose for a second, but remembering Matt, I pulled it back in. “Look, why are you calling me right now? Or was it literally just to scold me some more for not having you be my only friend?”

“Just…calling to remind you why you’re with me.” The words shot through my head, bouncing off of every corner. Why I was with him. It was the easiest and most complicated question about our relationship. “And to let you know that I’m going to get lunch with the boys.”

“Okay, so we’re eating with your friends again?” This was nothing new.

“No, I’m eating with my friends. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

“So you’re blowing me off?”

“I don’t have time to listen to you whine right now. I’ve got to go. Go home and eat lunch by yourself. I don’t want to hear about you hanging out with that guy anymore.” I wanted to throw the phone on the ground the very second I heard the beep. Instead, I squeezed it tightly in my fist and took a deep breath to calm the oncoming headache.

Behind me, a throat cleared softly. I turned to see Matt standing only a few feet away, timid with just a bit of concern. “You okay?”

“Just fine.” There was absolutely no indication on his face that told me he believed me at all, but I smiled anyway.

He tried to smile back, but it was a weary half-smile. “Can I interest you in some lunch? Where ever you want to go is fine with me.”

I wanted to say yes. Something about being around Matt always made me feel good, like getting to spend time with a long lost friend or some such nonsense. I wanted to say yes, but Sam’s words were in my head. There was a reason I was with him. Despite how much I abhorred the person he was deep down, there was a reason. “Thanks, but I’m just going to go home and have a sandwich or something.”

“Do you want company? I could…”

With a shake of my head, I cut him off. “Not today. I’ve got some cleaning and stuff I need to do.” The lie stuck to my tongue, especially since my apartment was near spotless. Not to mention for the briefest second, Matt had the look of a wounded puppy in his eyes.

“Your finance wouldn’t like it?”

Hearing him say this made my heart feel like it weighed a thousand pounds. “He would outright hate it.” He nodded, obviously wanting to say more but holding himself back. My skin tightened with tiny goose bumps. “I should go, but good luck getting through the rest of your day without a mob attack.”

I started to take off down the sidewalk, leaving him standing behind me, but he called me back. “Hey, Charley.” Hearing him say my name made me turn when logic told me I shouldn’t. “Thanks again for helping me. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.” His words left me unable to move for a moment, sounding more genuine than I ever knew words could sound. Once my senses came back, I gave him a smile, one that started in my chest and ended at my lips. Reluctantly, I turned and walked away.

“If you haven’t signed in and picked up your sides, do that now. Please, only pick up the sides you will be using and no highlighting or writing on the pages. If you have an updated headshot or resume to turn in, those need to come directly to me. If you were not called back, but requested a call back, please come see me. Everyone else, hang tight or find your partners; we’ll be starting in about twenty minutes.” The first weekend after classes brought the pure chaos of general auditions. Every single acting major – as well as any other student of any major who wished to be in a show – had been in and out of the theatre building nonstop for days.

Being assistant stage manager for the show I was working on meant I was constantly in the middle of it. But the rush of things not quite going as planned or scheduled was something I had grown to love.

The second my announcement was over, people flocked between me and the table. Too many obviously found trouble in following basic instructions as they went to the wrong place. “Is this where I act like a freshman and go to you instead of the table?”
I smiled, halfway through accepting a newcomer’s resume, and turned to see the person standing over my shoulder. “Only if you want to incur the wrath of the person in charge of telling the director how everyone behaved in the waiting area… No, sides are on the tables over there.” I could almost feel the rumble of Matt’s laugh behind me as I redirected the student. “I just tell myself they’re too nervous to think straight; otherwise I get all depressed about no one listening to me.”

I glanced at my watch, making an announcement for ten minutes until the first group would be called in to read. “Have you found who you’ll be reading with for the first round?”

He looked down at the sticky note in his hand which bore his recognizable, tidy writing. It was something else I’d grown to tease him about; guys were supposed to have gross handwriting. “Eric and Jennif-“

“Matt! Hey, Matt.” A tall brunette materialized and rushed forward to us, nearly knocking down the freshman who was next in line. “I’m Jennifer; we’re going to be together. Come one, I’ve got a nice quiet corner for us to practice in.” With neither respect nor a thought for his personal space, she latched onto his arm and pulled him along. “You know, I’ve seen every single movie you’re in. It’ll be great getting to know you better.” Just before I lost sight of him, Matt Looked back at me with a worried glance, and I promised myself I would keep an eye on them. It didn’t help that I already knew too much of Jen’s reputation to put any amount of faith in her good intentions.

With all the cliché of natural – as well as enhanced – beauty and mommy and daddy’s credit cards, Jennifer was easily identifiable as the school’s resident hot shot/party girl. Karma should have made her talentless, to even out how attractive and flat out conceited she was, but she still found herself cast in a leading role semester after semester. She’d also found herself in quite a few beds.

A voice popped into my ear a few minutes later, informing me via walkie-talkie that the director was ready to start. I continued making announcements, getting everyone settled and quiet, and the first group ready to head into the space. My responsibility after that was to keep things moving, getting a new group entering to read just as the previous group was exiting. I had to keep the lobby quiet and make note of any behavior worthy of the director’s knowledge.

Just as I was ticking off a group, my phone – set beside me so I could keep track of the time—lit up silently.

This is a nightmare.

It instantly felt like as good a time as any to do a quick walk around the lobby to be sure everyone was behaving themselves. I hit ‘reply’ on the text.

Take a bathroom break as soon as I find you.

Having a good idea of where they might be, I slipped toward a small nook that held two professors’ offices. Jennifer, despite having her own side, was leaning over Matt and reading from his. Eric was only a bit better, sitting close enough to make any normal person uncomfortable.

“Do they have really great parties in L.A.? I bet you get to go to some really great ones. Maybe next time you head home you could take me with so I can experience a Hollywood party first hand. I’d love to meet some of the people you work with.”

Matt shifted away slightly, trying to get himself out of reach without being too conspicuous. “Maybe we should go through the script a couple times before we have to go in there.”

Something twisted within my stomach as I looked at them. She was so close, her hand on his arm, I imagined he could probably even smell her breath. A flash of heat washed over me, making me strangely uneasy and overly annoyed. “How’s it going in here?”

“I’ve got to hit the rest room. Too much…water.” For someone who essentially built his life on acting, Matt was anything but natural, though it may have been my knowledge that he was lying that made it obvious. He stood, brushing past me with a whispered “thank you” before he turned out of the area.

“Oh my God he is perfect. Everyone back home is going to be so jealous.”

“How’s it going?” I repeated, fighting down the thought of how satisfying it would be to slap some sense into my obnoxious classmate. “You three getting through the side?”

She all but rolled her eyes at me. “As if we need to be worried. We all know the directors fight over who gets to have me in their show. Plus Matt is just auditioning as a formality. Everyone wants him almost as much as they want me, although, I suppose I might want him more.”

I took a step into the room, bending down to address her at eye level. “Listen, Jen. Matt is a human being. He’s not a conquest. He’s not an idea, and he’s certainly not some spoiled celebrity who only cares about being famous. Now, here’s the reality that you’re facing, after all of the auditions are done, before the directors sit down together and divvy up who gets whom for their shows, the director for this show is going to come out and ask me how things went. Some people might think that it’s nothing more than a polite question, but that is very much wrong. He wants details: who worked hard, who got along, who didn’t. He wants to know if anyone was rude to myself or the volunteers or any of their fellow actors. He wants to know if I think, based on interactions I saw, that there are any actors who simply will not be able to work together.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m giving you information and requesting that you remember, as I said, that Matt is a human being. Right now, he is not a movie star. He is not a Hollywood actor. Right now, he is another student auditioning for a school show.”

“Let me guess, you’re just jealous because I can offer him something he’ll definitely want.”

I gave a strangled laugh, thankful for my own self-control. “And I might also be suggesting that you all grab your things and move to somewhere more open where I could, hopefully, witness some positive interactions worthy of passing along. But that’s just a suggestion.”
There was only so much more faith I could put in my ability to not slap her, so I stood and backed out of the area, surprised to find Matt standing just outside the doorway. “Thank you for that. She is a nightmare.”

“Let me know if she causes any more issues. I don’t particularly enjoy passing along negative messages to the director, but her case might warrant an exception.” He chuckled, shaking his head, before a voice over my headset warned me that the next group was about to be called in. “I’ve got to go get the next people lined up. Your group’s almost up, so I’ll see you in a bit.” He gave me a wink which raised my heart to my throat, leaving my face hot and twitchy with the threat of a giddy smile.

Two hours later, the final group had gone through and all auditions were done. People still flocked toward me to ask a tirade of questions, leaving me to balance answering their inquiries while directing volunteers on their duties. It was almost thirty minutes after the last group had exited the audition room before the questions stopped.
“Want me to walk you home or anything? Safety first and all that.” A few people were still hanging around the doors, trying to look inconspicuous as they obviously waiting for Matt to head out. Once again the thought passed that even if he weren’t a movie star, girls and guys alike would be pining for him, though any friends and admirers in the hypothetical situations would come off as more friendly and less stalker-ish.

“I actually have to hang back to finish cleaning up and wait to see if Steph needs any help with paperwork. I’ll probably be here until midnight when the cast list goes up.” I neatly piled all of the new forms into neat stacks before facing them in alternating directions in one big stack. From the corner of my eye, I realized who some of the people were who had been staring. “Can you three take down the table and chairs here and put them back in the supply closet on the third floor? The rest of you collect any signs or stray papers hanging around. Thank you.” The scholarship volunteers got to work removing any of the remaining evidence that anything had even taken place in the theater lobby.

“Well, I was just planning on checking them online, so I guess I’ll see you for classes tomorrow.”

“Hm. First full week of classes. Scared?”

“Nothing could possibly be worse than that first day. But I’ll take a ‘good luck’ from you anyway.”

“Break a leg.” I offered my own small wink, earning me an eye roll and one of his wonderfully charming smiles. “Also, best of luck with that small crowd forming by the doors. Which reminds me… I’m going to have to ask you to leave so that I can shoo the rest of these hooligans out of here. The director doesn’t like to come out until everyone is gone. Too many people trying to steal too much of his attention.” Matt smirked in understanding, eyeing those who were staring at him. He playfully pumped my shoulder, making me choke out an awkwardly nervous laugh as he walked away. “Lobby clear,” I called over the headset as the others followed him out the door.

As expected, the first thing the director did upon emerging from the theatre was ask for any reports I had regarding ‘waiting room antics’ as he was fond of calling them. Jen sauntered through my vision – still superficially perfect in every way – and my temper threatened to flair. The way she’d touched and spoken to Matt were petty and self-indulgent. He was not the type of guy to go for such lack of subtlety and over-the-top attempts at flirtation. She had no right to act that way around him.

And I had no right to be jealous.

Though, such a notion was ridiculous… of course I wasn’t jealous. I was protective of someone who had been entrusted to my care. I hated to see him treated in a way that was less than he deserved. That wasn’t jealousy.
Professional courtesy prevented me from saying all of the phrases I felt justly described her, and I managed to mention the conflict in brief passing along with a small handful of other situations which I’d observed. He nodded throughout, occasionally jotting a note down on his legal pad, and only asking two clarifying questions – neither of which were in reference to Jennifer and her wandering intentions.

Naturally, I was a bit disappointed.

With a “thanks” and a request that I finish up and digitize the necessary paperwork – something I was already planning on doing—he and the stage manager left to meet the directs from the other semester’s shows. The rest of their night would be spent bartering and negotiating for their desired cast. Each student could only be in one production, and it was guaranteed that a good handful of them would be on the list of multiple directors.

Cast lists had to go up by midnight, leaving the group only three hours to hash things out, and giving the actors three hours to stress before lining up outside the building to view the lists the very second they are taped to the glass doors.

As the assistant stage manager did not take part in the selection process, I headed down to the Stage Management Office, a tiny closet of a room with a single outdated computer and a small sofa. I sat down, booted up the PC, set the stack of updated forms beside me and got ready to work. For some bits, digitizing was as simple as scanning and dropping files into appropriate folders. For the more difficult parts, it meant typing up the information from the handwritten forms, a task made difficult by the number of atrocious excuses for penmanship.
I was overly focused on a particularly impossible squiggled sentence when I was startled back by my phone ringing on the desk beside me. The name that flashed against the screen was no surprise. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey. How’s the audition stuff going?” The question was tame and seemingly sincere. I released a small sigh, feeling the smallest notch of relief at the almost pleasant tone.

“It’s going. Just paperwork and decision making left. And, of course, being an assistant means I get to do all of the tedious paperwork with none of the exciting decision making.”

He chuckled on the other end, his tone sympathetic. “Maybe next semester you’ll finally get to be a full on stage manager and dump the boring work on your own assistant.” In the tiny second of time between his comment and my ‘yeah, maybe,’ response, I was torn between appreciating that he was taking an innocent interest in my affairs and disappointed annoyance that he didn’t remember how excited I was to find out that not only was I the stage manager for the musical in the spring, but I was also under consideration for the position of stage manager for the summer Shakespeare Festival.

In truth, his memory lapse shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise, given the simple fact that the announcement was made at about the same time that he was distracted by the number of women he was juggling. “So, are you too busy for me to stop by with some tea for you? I’m right by that Green Leaf place you like.”

“Uh… yeah. That would be great actually. Thanks. Do you know what I want?”

“Text me, just to make sure I get it right. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay. Let me know when you get here. The door is probably locked by now.”

The text message marking his arrival came about twenty minutes later, and I welcomed the excuse to stretch my legs as I took the stairs two at a time to let Sam in. He gave me a quick peck before following me back down to the office. Without hesitation, he made himself comfortable on the sofa. “How much longer until you’re finished up?”

I looked at the remainder of the form stack and at the clock. “Probably another twenty minutes of typing and then they’ll hopefully be done picking out the cast. I’ll probably have to type that one up and wait for it to publish and post it at midnight.”

“Midnight? Really? No chance of getting out of here before then?”

“Probably not. I mean, I definitely can’t be done before the list goes up.” He nodded, looking around every corner of the room, though not lingering at me.

Fortunately, the bit of tension was short lived once he decided to be more conversational and interested in what I was doing. I walked him through the forms and how I had to type them up, what the information was used for, and anything else he asked about. I asked about his day in return, earning me a small tirade of complaints about work and the people he had to deal with. The complaints were the same as they’d been since he’d started the job, but the relaxed nature of us together while he spoke was enough to make it all worth hearing for the thousandth time.

Naturally, Sam and I had plenty of moments when we got along and had conversations. True, those moments were not coming as frequently as they once had, but they weren’t lost entirely. In my thoughts, I lose track of what he was saying, but he brought me back around by literally spinning my chair to face him and pulling me toward the couch. “Got time for a distraction?” His hand trailing up me thigh made his meaning obvious.

“You know I have work to do…”

“Mhm.” He leaned forward and nestled his lips against the crook of my neck. “But I also know you only have a couple pages left to finish, and you’ve been cruising through what you’ve already gotten done.” A tiny nip on the sensitive skin of my throat made me squirm, and I leaned into him, involuntarily.

“Steph could come in here at any minute.”

“Then we’ll make it quick.” He slipped his hands under my knees and yanked me forward sharply, sliding my legs onto either side of his.

“Sam…” My smallest protest was cut off as his lips covered mine. While our conversations had still popped up on occasion, physical intimacy did not. He certainly hadn’t yet earned my complete forgiveness or trust, but that did nothing to hinder the sparking of my desire. I did not feel the need to push him away.

“It’s been so long since we’ve given each other more than innocent little kisses.” His revelation was punctuated by increasingly ragged breaths and a flick of his tongue against my pulse point. “I miss you. I miss feeling you.” He pulled me further forward, pressing me against the unmistakable bulge forming beneath his denim jeans. “I miss those nights on my couch.”

Just as I got lost in the intoxicating mix of his words and the pressure of his firm body against him, his hand slipped under my shirt, headed straight for my covered breasts. “Sam.” I shifted slightly, increasing the almost nonexistent distance between us.

“Don’t pull away.” The husky words escaped from his swelling lips, his lust further pronounced by the half-hooded nature of his eyes. “I want to taste every inch of your skin.”

Conflicted, I let him pull me even closer, the fingers of one hand molding to the shape of my bra while the other hand was occupied with pushing me downward and in, ensuring the constant pressure and stimulation of my form against his arousal. “Sam… Sam, wait.” I placed a hand to his chest, freeing my neck and mouth from his tongue. “I can’t. Not here.”

“Come on.” Both hands moved to my spine, all of his strength focused on bringing me back to him. His voice was laced with a seductive tone. “Just a little fun.”

“No. Please. I’m not ready to…”

“I’m not asking you to have sex with me, Charley. We were just kissing.” The skin between his brows furrowed, and I knew the pleasantries were as good as over.

“We were ‘just kissing’ until you started grinding me against you and shoving your hand up my shirt. I just… I’m sorry, Sam, but I don’t want to do that right now. Not now and especially not here.”

He squirmed beneath me, his hands rising as if to push me off of him, but he held back. To save him the trouble, I shifted off and stood. “We’re engaged now, Charley. You’re allowed to fool around me with me. What is it really?” I scoffed at his pointed question and reclaimed my seat at the computer. “You still haven’t forgiven me, have you? Don’t you think you’ve held that against me long enough? It was months ago!”

“I don’t care how long ago it was! I had to walk in on you having sex with someone else. You don’t get to decide that it’s been long enough or when it’s been long enough. You don’t get to decide when I’m over it.”

“It’s not fair to make me go this long without any kind of action.”

If I had not watched his lips move at the same time I heard the words come out, I never could have believed that anyone could say such a thing, even if that someone was Sam. “Are you kidding me right now? You say that as if we were fucking every other day before this happened. If anything, the only reason you’re feeling as if you’re missing out on something is because you don’t have God knows how many women on the side to keep you occupied.”

“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.” He stood and began collecting his things.

“No. You certainly don’t.”

“You know, Charley, things were going a lot better between us before that stupid movie star showed up.”
I literally shifted back in my seat at his words, feeling instantly overwhelmed by how nonsensical I found them. “What does Matt have to do with anything?”

“He’s all you ever talk about anymore.”

“No, Sam. He’s all you every talk about. I barely even bring him up.”

“You see him every day.”

“I see a lot of people every day. That’s what happens when you have classes in common and rehearsals and auditions. And on top of that, the university asked me to help him out while he’s still new here. Now will you please just sit back down and I’ll finish my tea, you can finish your coffee, and we can talk like we were. I was really enjoying just talking with you.” He looked conflicted for a moment, then settled again to the couch. “Thank you.”

“Charley! You won’t believe it!” The door burst open at the exact wrong moment. “We got Matt! Matt’s in our show!”

“Matt?! You didn’t tell me Matt was auditioning for your show.”

Steph, the stage manager, looked from me to the unexpected person who had risen to his feet in anger, the pure excitement dropping from her face. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know Sam was here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m leaving. Apparently someone didn’t feel it was significant enough to mention that a certain movie star was going to be in the show she was working on.” Before I could consider speaking in return, he brushed past Steph and out the door, slamming his way down the hall and up the steps.

“Ignore him, because this news is way too exciting!” My enthusiasm was feigned, but it seemed good enough for her as I watched the smile spread back across her entire face. “He’s perfect for the role.”

“Yes he is! And we’re going to get to spend so much time with him! Not… you know… that I’ll treat him differently from any other student who’s in the show because I have integrity and I know you’ll kill me if I get too giddy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the mischief behind her smile. “Speaking of integrity, how got Jen?”
The excitement faltered once again. Not a good sign. “We did, in the exact role you probably dread having her in. But we’ll make it work, I promise.” I made a face that was everything but professional, but gave Steph a small fit of laughter. “Anyway, I need to go tell everyone in the world how excited I am, so would you mind typing this up and posting it? Thank you so much; you’re the best.”

“Steph! You can’t tell anyone for the next… twenty three minutes…” My call fell on deaf ears as she all but ran out of the room and up the stairs. As I opened up a blank word document and started typing up the list of names and their assigned roles, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for the novelty to wear off once everyone started seeing him every day.

I opened the internet browser, pulling up the school of theatre website and entering the password that would allow me to make changes. Once again, my phone rang beside me. I sighed, preparing myself for the worst until I saw the friendly picture grace the screen “Jeremiah. What’s up?”

“Is he in your show?!”

“Hi. I’m doing well, thanks so much for asking. It was a bit of a stressful day, with auditions and all, but you know… I definitely think I’m going to rock that stage management position next year because I’m really learning…”

“Yes yes yes, you’re wonderful, and I know it and you know it and I love you, but just answer the question.”

“I’m very sorry, but for the next eleven and a half minutes, that information is top secret.”

“So help me, Bastet, if you don’t answer my question…”

“Did you just threaten me with the goddess of cats?”

“Charley!”

“Yes! Sweet baby Jesus, Jeremiah, yes, he’s in the show.”

“You are going to so love spending every day with him.”

I continued to pluck at the keyboard with one hand, absolutely needing to finish typing in the net few minutes. “No more than I’m going to enjoy any of the other actors whom I get along with. He’s just…”

“A regular person. I know. I know, save your lecture for someone with more shame. I have it on good authority that he is at least a little bit interested…”

“Your ‘good authority’ is severely outdated and you know it. And, not that I need to remind you again, I am engaged. Seriously… this conversation is getting overly redundant.”

“Honey, I promise I will be first in line to tell you I told you so when everything goes exactly like I’ve been saying it would.”

“You’re the worst.” I sang, glancing at the clock.

“I hate you, too. Now click submit and go tape up your cast list. I’ll call you later with more annoying conversations.”

“Talk to you later, Jer.” The phone clicked off. 11:57. It would take about two minutes for the ancient computer to finish its upload, especially with the mass quantity of people obsessively pressing the refresh button just in case someone decided to post early. I clicked Save & Publish, reopened the word document and clicked to print a few copies.

Arming myself with the pages and some tape, I walked up the stairs. There were easily thirty people moshed outside the locked doors. I glanced at the four other assistant stage managers, a couple of whom were taunting those waiting anxiously on the other side, pretending to turn cast lists toward them before mock pouting and hiding the page against their chests. “You guys are the worst.”

“They love the drama, and you know it. Oh! Speaking of drama, we’ve all noticed that a certain celebrity is conspicuous by his absence on any of our lists.”

“Well, that’s what you get for sharing without me.” The group huddled around me as I flashed them a peak at the lineup.

“Ugh! Jamie had him read seven times for Alan. I was sure we were going to get him.”
Someone pounded against the window. “It’s midnight!”

“One more minute!” A stage manager called back. We all claimed a door, finding it amusing when some of the students shifted around to get nearest the posting for the show they wanted most.

On a whim, I pulled my phone from my pocket and clicked one of the newest additions to my speed dial list. He answered on the second ring. “Hey, stranger.”

“Hey to you. I noticed you’re not crowding the doors with the rest of the crazies.”

“I thought it might be safer to just stay in and constantly refresh the school production page.”

“Ready everyone?” The assistant immediately to my left called out.

“Hm… well then let me be the first to say…”

“Three, two, one… flip ‘em!”

I pressed the sheet flush against the glass, securing the tape with two swift brushes of my finger, finding amusement in the rush of excitement taking over those just a few feet in front of me. “Welcome to the show.”

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