Chapter 13 - Nadia

Braden ordered food while Dorian gathered his belongings to move from the fourth to the third floor. “I’m really sorry for kicking you out,” I said while lingering in the doorway.
“Bedrooms are overrated,” Dorian declared with gusto. “I sleep there during the night, and spend the rest of my time at work, or rehearsing, or in one of the other rooms. There might as well be 20 people in there for all it matters to me!”
“Well, at least let me help you move,” I offered.
“I will gladly take you up on that.”
We moved his clothes from the dresser and closet, then carried his framed pictures from his bedside table. One photo showed Dorian standing with an older man in front of a theater curtain. They both wore shirts and ties.
“Is this you and your father?” I asked. The older man looked strangely familiar.
Dorian chuckled. “You don’t recognize him? You’re going to lose your theater cred.”
I squinted at the photograph. My jaw dropped. “That’s Andrew Lloyd Webber!”
“Ta-da,” Dorian said with a snap of his fingers. “He was in the audience for opening night of Mamma Mia three years ago. He was nice enough to take photos with everyone in the cast. Charming man.”
“I would have been star-struck!” I said. “He wrote my favorite musical of all time.”
Dorian whirled. “Phantom is your favorite? Mine too! Though Starlight Express is every bit as good without the fame, in my opinion.”
“Oh, I meant Cats.”
Dorian winced.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, struggling not to laugh.
“You’re making fun of my taste, aren’t you!”
Dorian faced away from me while gathering clothes out of his dresser, but his back vibrated with held-back laughter. “It’s kind of a running joke among us about how bad Cats is.”
“I was a little girl!” I protested. “It was whimsical and fun.”
“No, of course,” he said, red-faced from keeping his laughter at bay. “No judgement here.”
I smacked him playfully on the arm. “You can move the rest of it yourself.”
“Aww, I didn’t mean it!”
“Braden?” I called as I walked downstairs. “I’ve decided not to move in because Dorian insulted my taste in musicals.”
I heard Braden laughing somewhere on the first floor. “Oh God, you don’t love Cats do you?”
He meant it as a joke. On the top floor, Dorian roared with laughter. By the time I reached the kitchen, Braden’s eyes were wide. “Oh shit. It is, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t say it was the best musical,” I protested. “I said it was my favorite! It was the first one I ever saw.”
“Oh, okay then,” Braden said, but he marched out of the kitchen so I couldn’t see his laughter.
By the time dinner arrived, they had gotten all of their jokes out of the way. We ate our Chinese food outside in the garden, which would have been too cold except for the heat lamp which filled the small space with pleasant pulsing heat.
“So,” Dorian said around a mouthful of noodles. “What happened today? Earlier, you said you had a hell of a day.”
“You mean besides having my taste in musicals mocked?”
“Besides that, yeah,” Dorian grinned.
I shrugged. “I got fired.”
Braden flinched. “Oh, shit. From your bartending job?”
“No, that’s my night job. During the day I work at a department store selling shoes. At least, I did work there until I cussed out an asshole customer.”
Their mouths hung open. “That’s every retail worker’s dream,” Dorian said. “To go out in a blaze of glory. Like a suicide vest of sarcasm and wit.”
“It was satisfying for a whole five minutes.” I cocked my head at him. “You’ve worked retail?”
“I bounce around jobs.”
“Dorian works for a temp agency,” Braden explained. “So the job changes almost every day.”
“That sounds fun,” I said.
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Sounds fun, maybe. I was a snow shoveler when the last blizzard hit. A lot of the jobs are data entry for firms in lower Manhattan. Sometimes we pass out concert fliers. But hey, it gives me enough money to follow my dream.”
I raised my water glass. “Cheers to that.”
“You want to come with me tomorrow? Since you’re unemployed and all.”
“I’m only half unemployed,” I corrected. “I still have my bartending job at night.”
“So you don’t want to come?”
“Hell yeah I want to come,” I quickly said. “I need the money. I’m behind on two months of rent on my other apartment.”
“Such is the life of an aspiring actor,” Dorian said wistfully.
“How do you like your old place?” Braden asked. He bit into an egg roll, which made his dark hair fall across his face. “The one you’re moving from.”
“I don’t,” I said. “It’s too small for too much. And my roommates suck.”
“I hear that,” Braden said. Dorian kicked him in the leg, which made the handsome man yelp.
“Whenever you want to move your stuff over, let me know,” Braden went on. “My schedule is pretty clear outside of rehearsal, so whatever is convenient for you.”
At first I was touched by that sentiment. Then I said, “You don’t have any other job to go to?”
It was an uncomfortable thing to ask, and I knew it immediately. Braden focused intently on his egg roll, and Dorian pursed his lips and looked at me.
“His grandma left him the apartment, along with a small nest egg to live off,” Dorian explained. “At least for a few years.”
“Dude, there’s nothing embarrassing about that,” I said, putting a reassuring hand on Braden’s arm. “I’d be thrilled if I were you.”
He smiled gratefully at me. “Thanks. Grandma was always the most supportive of my career choice—unlike my parents. She would be happy to know I’m following my dream.”
“Now all we need is for The Proposition to be a smash hit and you’ll be well on your way!” I said.
We all laughed at that. We would be content with the show not being a total disaster. That’s where the bar was right now.
“Seriously though,” I said. “What’s with Tatiana?”
Dorian smirked, and opened his mouth to say something. Braden beat him to it.
“I don’t think we should be gossiping about the other cast,” he said in a lecturing tone. “Director Atkins was right. It’s not professional.”
“No, yeah, right,” I said, waving off the question and hoping they couldn’t tell how embarrassed I was. “You’re right. We should be more professional.”
Dorian shared a momentary look with me. He had opinions, and would tell me later.
We made idle chit-chat long after our dinner was finished, telling stories about where we grew up and how we’d all arrived in New York. Braden grew up in Long Island, but Dorian was from Portland, Oregon. He’d been in traveling productions of Mamma Mia and Annie Oakley before eventually deciding he wanted to be on Broadway.
It was late when Braden said he wanted to get to sleep, and I found myself yawning too. We all said goodnight and wandered upstairs to our individual bedrooms. I always carried a clean pair of panties and a toothbrush in case I went home with someone from the bar, so I was good to sleep here tonight until I got my stuff from my apartment. I washed my face and crawled into bed, which Dorian had put fresh sheets on when he moved his stuff out. The luxury of going to bed at a reasonable time was nice. And even when I had a shift at the bar, taking the subway up here would give me almost an hour of extra free time per day compared to going out to Queens.
I stared at the popcorn ceiling and couldn’t get to sleep. Something didn’t feel right. After a few minutes, I realized why.
I was sleeping only in my panties, so I put my yoga pants and shirt back on and left my room. I went down to the third floor and approached one of the master bedrooms. After a moment’s hesitation, I knocked.
“Dude, I don’t care if you have my leftovers,” Braden said as he opened the door. He paused when he saw it was me.
I gawked right back at him.
He stood in the doorway wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs. All the muscles of his chest and arms seemed more defined in the dim light of the hallway, like a three-dimensional chiaroscuro painting. He cocked his head in a way that was somehow both cute and incredibly sexy. The sight of him was like an Abercrombie & Fitch model. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he said when he realized it was me. He scratched the back of his neck, which coincidentally made his entire left arm flex. “I…”
“I can have your leftovers?” I said hopefully. “I’m not a huge egg roll girl, but free food is free food…”
“I thought you were Ryan. He’s always hungry when he comes home late. What’s up?”
I blanked for a moment as I forgot the reason I was there, then gave a start when I finally remembered. “I wanted to thank you. For all of this. It’s a really… weird offer, I guess. But I’m glad you suggested it, and I wanted to make sure you knew that. I didn’t want to seem unappreciative.”
“Well,” he said slowly, “it’s not set in stone.”
A pang of fear struck me in the chest. Was he going to renege on the deal before it even began? Was he having second thoughts?
“I mean, I’m glad you’re enthusiastic,” he said. “But it’s not set in stone that you’re under any sort of obligation. We don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you don’t want to be friends with Dorian, or a booty-call with Ryan, or pretend to be my girlfriend, there’s no pressure at all. We’re not going to take advantage of your shitty situation.”
“Really?” I said. “So if I suddenly decided I didn’t want to uphold my end of the bargain with the four of you, you’d still let me stay here rent-free?”
“That’s what I’m saying,” he said with a nod. “For at least a month or three. So, no pressure.”
“Something tells me the other guys wouldn’t be happy about that.”
Braden’s smile lit up his face. “It doesn’t matter if they’re happy about it, because this is my place. They’re all living here rent-free too.”
His smile widened, inviting me to smile with him. I couldn’t stop myself. It was infectious. The kind of smile that made all worries melt away, replacing them with the certainty that everything was going to be okay.
“You know,” I said, “this is a lot like The Proposition.”
He chuckled. “I’d had the same thought.”
“Except the woman in the play gets $10,000 a month, whereas all I’m getting is free rent. Maybe I should have haggled my way into a better deal.”
“Too late now.” He chuckled and said, “I’m glad you’re appreciative. Goodnight, Nadia.”
“Night.”
I felt his eyes on me the whole way down the hall before I heard his door close.