Chapter 10 - Ryan

I stared at the two screws in my hand and said, “This place is fucking bullshit, bro.”
Andy and I were messing with the lights up in the catwalks above the stage. The ones that had malfunctioned yesterday. I’d seen it before plenty of times. The bulbs were screwed into mechanical housing which were controlled by servos, giving them a range of movement which the lighting tech—Andy—could control from the booth. The pressure and force on the screws that held the lights in the housing caused the screw threads to become stripped, which eventually gave out and made the lights swivel out of control. It was a normal, routine problem that a stage hand like myself dealt with.
But these screws weren’t stripped. They were brand-fucking-new, pristine and sharp. I’d just installed them this week. There was literally no reason for them to give out last night.
Andy scrunched his face up with thought. “Perhaps the problem is with the housing?”
“Housing’s fine too,” I said. “They were bought second-hand, but I don’t think they’ve ever been used. There’s zero wear-and-tear. The screws just… came loose on their own.”
Andy opened his mouth to launch into one of his lectures. I stabbed a finger at his face before he could.
“Don’t even fucking suggest that I forgot to put locktight on the screws. I’m not some fucking intern who makes basic mistakes.” I held my palm up to his face. “See the blue line?”
Andy didn’t examine the screws. He closed his mouth and blinked twice. “There must be a logical explanation for the malfunction.”
I hissed air out through my teeth. “Yeah. This place is fucking haunted.”
Andy’s gaze was stoic. “I said logical.”
“It’s a better explanation than these flawless screws suddenly giving out for no reason.”
Andy rose, and I stood with him. The catwalk swayed from our weight, giving me a sudden bout of vertigo. I gripped the railing and tried not to look at the stage far below.
“I’ve seen sizing issues caused by new locations,” Andy finally said. “If the width between trusses is 37 feet and six inches instead of 37 feet even, it can stretch the entire lighting housing a few degrees.”
I tried not to bite his head off, but it was tough. For someone ridiculously smart, Andy could be totally clueless sometimes. “If the trusses were too far apart, it would bend the housing. If anything, that would add extra stress to the screws, not less. But there’s no evidence of any of that.”
“I think we should replace the entire housing for these two lights,” Andy said definitively. An executive decision. “Rip them off and put new ones on.”
“New ones cost money,” I reminded him.
“I’ll find it in the budget,” he said, a note of weariness in his voice. “Just get it done.”
I wanted to argue, but I knew there was no point. Andy needed some plan of action to make him think something had been done to solve the problem, no matter how useless it was.
We went to the end of the catwalks and climbed down the ladder to the backstage area. I loved the theater when it was like this: quiet and peaceful. It was actually pleasant, unlike when all the actors arrived and started making a fuss.
I called my supplier and put in an order for new housing to pick up later that evening. As I was gathering my supplies to remove the old housing, I casually asked, “What do you think about Nadia?”
It was a topic we’d all been avoiding since last night. Our little Tinder experiment had gone poorly. We’d met with three other “dates” before Nadia. One of them didn’t hit it off with Braden at all. The other two made it far enough for us to pitch our arrangement to them.
And then they’d laughed in our faces.
Nadia was the only one who had taken it even halfway seriously. Even though she rejected it in the end, she at least thought about it first.
Andy shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what I think about her.’
Having known Andy for practically a decade, I knew him better than he knew himself. I could tell he liked Nadia already. Or at least, he was interested in her.
I took my time gathering my tools and remained quiet. Eventually the silence pulled a longer answer out of Andy.
“She has potential,” he said, like the words were being yanked out of him. “She’s cute. And sharp, too. I bet she gets that from being a bartender.”
Cute wasn’t the word I would’ve used. Nadia was hot. She was totally fuckable. All the dancers in the show were, but she stood out among them. An hourglass figure and honey-colored hair. An ass I wanted to grab with both hands, spread apart, and smother my face between.
I climbed back up the ladder with my tools. Andy stayed below this time, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
“What do you think of her?” he asked when I reached the top.
“I think a man shouldn’t shit where he eats,” I replied bluntly. “Workplace romance is a bad fucking idea. Take it from a guy who dated the lead singer of Metric while touring Canada.”
Andy rolled his eyes. “Nobody believes you dated Emily Haines.”
I looked down at him and held up my palm. “Swear to God, bro. All it takes is a couple of bad dates, or a rough breakup, and suddenly you’re being sent home packing before the tour is over.”
I could see the resistance in Andy’s eyes even from way up here. “We’ll just have to avoid a rough breakup, then.”
“You and I both know it’s not that simple.” I pulled out a wrench and began removing the nuts off the end of the totally-not-broken light housing. “Breakups happen. You can’t control whether they’re amicable or shitty. And our little situation is weirder than your typical relationship. Four times the men means four times the heartbreak.”
“She’s a professional,” Andy said. “We’re all professionals. We can compartmentalize things, and continue working together even if things end poorly.”
Dorian came walking in the theater. “You guys talking about Nadia?”
Andy nodded.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dorian said. “She’s not interested. Are y’all forgetting about that?”
Andy stuck out his chin. “I am operating under the assumption that she needs time to consider it.”
“I doubt it,” I muttered. I knew women. They wanted Mr. Dreamboat to sweep them off their feet and give them the trademarked Happy Ever After that only came from rom-coms. Resistance, will-they-won’t-they tension, and then finally getting together.
The offer we were making, putting all our cards on the table? It was too straightforward. It would take a special kind of girl to agree to that. And I just didn’t think Nadia was that girl.
“I have to agree with Ryan,” Dorian said. “I don’t think she’ll change her mind.”
“I prefer to be prepared for any situation,” Andy said.
“What situation is that?”
We all turned. Nadia stood in the back doorway of the theater.
It was really fucking stupid, but I got goosebumps just looking at her. Literal fucking bumps that made the hair on my arms stand up. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Her hair hung halfway down her back, the tips curled like a bouquet of question marks. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, the strap digging into her cleavage and making her tits pop. Silhouetted by the light out in the lobby, her hourglass figure was even more apparent. Curvy and voluptuous in a way that screamed mate with me in a primal way.
She’s better than any random Tinder date, I thought, workplace romance be damned.
“You’re here early,” I called down to her, returning to my work on the light housing.
Nadia walked down the aisle and dropped her bag in a seat. “I’ve had a hell of a day. I was hoping to get some practice in before rehearsal. Run through some of my tracks and blow off steam.”
Dorian perked up. “That’s the same reason I’m here. We can run through them together, if you don’t mind sharing the stage. Having two of us up there will help with our timing.”
She cocked her head. “Yeah, okay.”
“Andy, you want to give us some music?”
“Coming right up.”
They picked which numbers they wanted to rehearse, and then took their places on opposite ends of the stage. Nadia pulled her hair up in a ponytail, which was somehow even sexier than when it was down.
I removed one of the bolts from the light housing, and then took my time with the second one while I watched them practice. Nadia was graceful as she moved across the stage, sexy and seductive. Not just putting her feet where they belonged on the stage, but actually being the backup dancer role she was supposed to be. She didn’t need any practice.
I shared a look with Andy down by the wall. He could tell what I was thinking, because he was thinking the same thing.
Maybe it would be great if she changed her mind.