Chapter 53 - Nadia

“Congratulations, Nadia. You’re the new lead of The Proposition.”
The words ran by my ear without me comprehending them. I was still shocked by Tatiana’s six-week injury, and Vandercant’s letter about the increased funding. And the fact that Braden hadn’t shown up for rehearsal.
Wait. I’m the lead!
“Thank you, Director Atkins,” I said. “I’m up for the challenge.”
A few of the other cast members applauded. But only a few. Most of them stared at me with something strange in their eyes. I realized what it was a moment later.
Accusation.
They think I did this.
My elation turned bitter in my mouth.
“This is Carmina, the new musical director,” Atkins said. The woman who had followed him onto stage dipped her head in acknowledgment. Although she looked to be in her 40s, her hair was already stark white and pulled back in a bun that tightened her entire face in an angry expression.
“Rehearsal will be in a tight five,” Atkins said. “We have a lot of work to do between now and opening night. Nadia, can I speak with you a moment?”
He led me backstage, then down the hall to his office. He closed the door, then leaned against it with his arms crossed.
“Can you handle the pressure?” he asked. “This is a lot of responsibility to suddenly shoulder.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ve been working hard outside of rehearsal to make sure I know all of Tatiana’s lines and tracks. I’m ready.”
“Good,” he said. “Are you the saboteur?”
The change of subjects caught me off guard. “I… What?”
“Are you the saboteur?” he repeated bluntly. “Did you injure Tatiana to take her spot?”
“Of course not!” I sputtered. “That’s ridiculous!”
He kept his face placid. “You have the most to gain by her absence, obviously. You were the one to find the saboteur’s letter. I couldn’t help but notice you and Ryan have become friendly these past few weeks. He could have helped you set up the traps, and when given the security cameras he left a giant blind spot in the sub-stage. I’m sorry to accuse you, but I need to hear it from your lips. For my own sanity.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “No, I am not the saboteur. I’ve been dreaming of this opportunity… But not like this. Not at the expense of someone else.”
He nodded without hesitation. “I didn’t think so, but I had to hear it. I’m sorry.”
It was easy for me to smile once he was convinced. “If I were anyone else, I would think it’s me too.”
Atkins went to his desk and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the note from the saboteur. “They seem to have targeted Tatiana specifically. So you should be safe. But I can’t guarantee it.”
“I know,” I said. “The extra security funding gives me some peace of mind. Hey, about Ryan… He tried his best. He’s really upset that the cameras didn’t cover the sub-stage. He knows he messed up.”
“Ryan’s a good kid,” Atkins said. “But I had to fire him. The camera setup was his responsibility. It sucks, but someone had to be the scapegoat for the problems going on.”
I sighed. Part of me had hoped I would be able to convince him to give Ryan his job back. A foolish hope.
“I understand.”
“Let’s get back to rehearsal,” Atkins said, smiling behind his grey mustache. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. But you’d better tell Ryan to get the hell out of my theater. If I see him hiding back there in Andy’s booth again I’m calling the cops.”
I grimaced. “He just wanted to hear what your announcement was.”
“I know. That’s why I took pity on him. This time.”
“I’ll let him know. Hey, where’s Braden?” I asked. “I didn’t see him out there.”
“I got an email from him earlier. Said he had a family emergency and has to miss rehearsal. He should be back tomorrow.”
I followed Atkins back out toward the stage. I must have really fucked up if Braden was skipping rehearsal. How was I going to make things up to him?
A worse thought crept into my head: if I couldn’t make things up to him, how were we supposed to perform the show together?
More cold stares greeted me when I returned to the stage. Lots of the cast definitely thought I’d been the one to sabotage Tatiana. I tried to ignore it, but it created a hollow pit in my stomach.
“Nadia” Dorian exclaimed, rushing forward to wrap me in a big hug. His smell was sweet and musky. “Congratulations! You’re going to absolutely crush it, darling. I’m positive.”
“Thanks,” I said. His encouragement helped wipe away the accusing stares from everyone else.
The first act of The Proposition was all about Jane’s affair with the neighbor, Hector. But the second act featured Jane and her husband Marshall suddenly patching things up as his musical career finally took off. This helped set up the final act, when everything blew up in Jane’s face and she lost both men, and then overdosed on a bottle of poison.
Braden’s understudy stepped in tonight, but the two songs we were rehearsing were between Jane and her husband Marshall, played by Dorian. I was excited to get started, falling into the songs and steps I’d already worked hard to memorize.
Then I remembered that both of these numbers involved intimacy between our two characters.
One of the songs was a duet tango. Dorian and I danced around stage hand-in-hand, singing to each other as we reignited our love. We crushed it together; as soon as I started singing I forgot all about the rest of the cast suspecting me of sabotage. Halfway through the song, I had to perform that tango move where the woman wraps one leg around her partner while keeping the other leg extended, and he drags her across the stage. That required me to essentially dry hump Dorian on stage while singing about how much I wanted to fuck him.
“God, I’ve needed you,” he sang in a melodic voice. “My darling, my Jane…”
“I’ve needed you inside me,” I sang back, my entire body pressed against his. He was warm and hard with muscle. “There’s no one like you!”
“There is only you…” he sang back.
Something happened while we sang and danced together. Paradoxically, it wasn’t awkward. If anything, being forced into close proximity and to pretend to be a lustful married couple helped peel away the awkwardness that had come between us since kissing. I knew we were both acting, but it still made it all feel more… real. Like we were finally getting closure.
And as we moved around the stage, I could sense my feelings for him returning. Just like the character I was playing in the show.
We came to the end of the song. Dorian stared deeply into my eyes, and there was a shimmer of truth there. Like he’d been wanting to say these things all along. The music reached it’s climactic note.
Traditionally, most kissing scenes were faked during rehearsals. Just a light air-kiss to note the moment in the show, allowing the actors to avoid kissing each other dozens of unnecessary times.
Dorian puckered his lips in an air-smooch. But I leaned in and gave him a kiss for real.
Hand on the back of his neck, pulling him to me like I needed him. His lips were as soft and warm as they’d been when we were hiding from the street performers, and he kissed me back just as eagerly.
Only the end of the music made us finally stop. “Fantastic!” said Carmina, the new musical director. “You really sold the lines and that kiss. But you two need to work on your tango. We will practice this before next rehearsal.”
Atkins called it a night after the next song. Andy was working with him on some of the new lighting arrangements for the second act songs, so I figured that would give Dorian and I some good alone time on the way home. Maybe we could hash things out again. For real this time.
I went to gather my things backstage with Dorian, but was intercepted by Carmina.
“Nadia, you have a phenomenal voice,” she said in a thick New York accent. “Simply stunning. But you were weak on some of the high notes, almost like you were shy.”
“Those really high parts in the last song intimidate me,” I admitted. “I’ll practice them in my spare time.”
“Nonsense. We’ll practice them now. If I’m going to be cashing checks from John Vandercant as the musical director, you can bet your ass I’m going to give him his money’s worth.”
Dorian was talking to some of the other dancers. I gave the back of his head a longing stare before following Carmina back out to the stage.

*

I don’t know what she was getting paid, but Carmina was worth every penny.
We practiced for another hour. Just stationary singing—no track work at all. We went over the high notes in the songs from tonight, with Carmina pressing a hand on my belly to help show how much air I should be expelling with my diaphragm each time. Then we went back and covered many of the songs from the first act of the show. Part of it was Carmina trying to determine my strengths and weaknesses, I could tell. Sizing me up.
She had me sing More Than Money, the powerful solo at the end of the first act, the one Tatiana had been injured singing. I gave it my all, and was rewarded with half a smile from the severe-looking musical director.
“That was better than I expected,” she said. “That song was my biggest concern, but I don’t even care anymore. You’re going to crush it. I have no doubts.”
“Thank you,” I said meekly.
She put her hands on her hips. “But some of the other songs are revealing your weaknesses. The high chorus in Ends Never Meet is a big one.”
“Yeah, I could feel myself stretching to hit those notes.”
“Here’s what I’m going to do.” She grabbed a leaf of paper from a nearby stool. It was sheet music. “We’re going to bring that chorus down a full octave. I thought it was too high already, and your singing confirms it. It’ll sound much better this way—trust me. I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m going to make a similar change to The Proposition, and maybe even the overture.” She chewed on the end of the pen while staring at the notes. “Let me think about it. But be ready for some changes. Alright?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said.
She tapped the pen against my arm. “Drink some tea for that throat. You sounded ragged after the last song. See you tomorrow.”
I was on cloud nine the entire way home. A lot had happened in the past four hours. I was playing the lead! And I was doing well! And we had a real musical director who was giving me actual feedback to help me get better!
It was like we had gone from the minor leagues to the majors in the blink of an eye.
The train ride back to the upper east side wasn’t long, but I put my headphones in and spent the time going over the songs Carmina was changing. The music on my phone was instrumental only, so I hummed the lyrical part to myself on the train, imagining the specific parts being sung an octave lower. They would definitely be easier on my throat, and showcase my strengths more. They were good changes.
I couldn’t imagine Atkins making changes like that on the fly. Then again, if he had tried to do that with Tatiana she would have stubbornly insisted on doing them the original way.
Halfway through the song, my phone chimed from a text message. I opened it with annoyance until I saw that it was a text from Ryan:

Ryan: I know you probably want to celebrate your promotion, but no stumbling home from the bar drunk, alright?
Me: I don’t get drunk. I’m an innocent angel who drinks two wine coolers max and then goes to bed at 9:30
Ryan: I’ve never seen an angel let me fuck her in the ass before
Me: That’s because I’m the best kind of angel.
Ryan: Fuck yeah you are

When I got home, I found a carton of leftover Chinese food on the counter. A sticky note with my name on it had been slapped on the side. Inside was pork fried rice.
“Hell yeah,” I said as I reheated it.
The townhouse was silent except for the hum of the microwave. I wondered if Braden had come home. The last thing I wanted to do was rehash what had happened and how terrible of a person I was, but I needed to talk to him about it if I was going to make things right. There was still time to fix things between us, and between his parents. I wasn’t sure how I was going to fix it, but I was determined to do so.
As I took my food out of the microwave, motion caught my eye. Outside in the garden, Dorian sat in a rocking chair facing away from me.
I took my food out there and tapped him on the shoulder. He flinched, then removed the earplugs from his ears.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in. How’d things go with Carmina? Was she as harsh a teacher as she looked?”
I sat across from him and blew on my pork fried rice. “Actually she was fantastic. Very helpful, and in a constructive way. She’s already tweaking some of the songs to my singing strengths and weaknesses.”
“Wow,” Dorian said. His legs hung over the edge of the chair lazily, and his handsome face was masked in shadow. “That’s really good to hear. I’m glad Vandercant decided to finally pony up the money to treat this like a real show.”
“Right?” I said around a mouthful of rice. “It’s kind of funny that he gave us a bare-bones budget with his granddaughter as the lead, but now that she’s out he’s taking it more seriously.”
“Maybe even he knew the show was doomed with her at the helm,” Dorian suggested.
“Maybe.” I studied my food for a few heartbeats. “We performed well together tonight. You and me, I mean.”
“Oh. Yeah, uh, we did.” Dorian cleared his throat in the darkness. “It’s nice rehearsing with someone who’s giving it their full attention. After Tatiana, you’re a pleasure to work with.”
I made myself grin at him. “A pleasure, huh?”
Even in the darkness I could see his blush. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You liked having me grinding all over you.”
“I simply enjoyed having a worthwhile rehearsal partner!” he argued. “You know what I mean. You’re just teasing me to be cruel.”
“The two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
Dorian threw his legs off the chair arm and leaned forward. The light coming from inside caught one side of his face, making his eye twinkle. “Speaking of pleasure, that was some kiss you gave me.”
“Well, we had to practice it,” I said innocently.
“Did we, now?”
“I think so,” I said. “Nothing compares to the real thing.”
He smiled. “So you admit it was real.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure it wasn’t. But it felt awfully real to me.”
There was a question in his voice. Like he wanted to say something, but was afraid to until he knew how I felt. For a few moments, things were uncomfortable again.
Forget that, I thought. I wasn’t going back to the way it was before.
I stepped toward him and straddled his legs, sitting down on his lap. I draped my arms around his neck and stared deeply into his eyes.
“We have another sex scene coming up, too.”
“Indeed we do.” His face turned serious. “Maybe we should practice that too.”
My voice barely more than a whisper, I replied, “I love the way you think.”
Dorian kissed me like it was the only thing he’d been thinking about all night, tongue invading my mouth. His hands ran up and down my back, and I explored the feel of his body with mine, even giving his man-bun a playful little squeeze. My lust rose rapidly and I stepped off him so I could slip out of my pants, and he unzipped his own and pulled his cock out. I sat back down on his lap and he pulled my panties aside, revealing my moist pussy for him as I lowered myself onto his shaft.
“Ohh,” he groaned. “You feel better than I dreamed.”
I lowered myself further on his wonderful manhood, feeling it bury deep inside my pussy. “You dreamed of me?”
“Several times. Each dirtier than the last.”
I cupped his jaw. “We’ll have to make those dreams a reality.”
I planted my feet on the ground while he sat in the chair, then I gently used my legs to squat up and down on his steel cock.
“God, I’ve needed you,” he whispered in a melodic voice, just like in the show. “My darling, my beautiful Nadia…”
“I’ve needed you inside me,” I whispered back in a sing-song voice. “There’s no one like you!”
“There is only you…” he groaned.
We couldn’t make too much noise without waking our roommates, so we kissed each other to smother our cries of pleasure. Dorian grabbed my ass with both hands, fingers digging in between my cheeks so he could guide me up and down on his cock. The skin of my thighs slapped against his legs with each squat, louder and louder, but we were too much in the throes of passion to slow down, and when I began to come he forced his tongue into my mouth to swallow my moans and held my head to keep my lips against his, and then he came just as hard while his throat vibrated in a powerful, deep moan while I clenched my pussy lips around his cock in a vice-like grip to squeeze every ounce of juice from his fruit.