Chapter 58 - Ryan

I climbed the stairs to the balcony section, where an usher guided me to my seat. Even though I knew where I was going, I let her do her job and thanked her when I sat down. The old man in the seat next to me glanced over, and I nodded at him and adjusted my dress tie. I rarely wore these fucking things, and this one wouldn’t stay straight.
Coming back here made me feel bitter, especially on opening night with a packed house. But I had to support my friends. Especially Nadia after everything she’d done to get here. That’s what friends did for one another: they supported them when they needed it.
Nadia isn’t just a friend.
My feelings had only accelerated since I’d been fired from the theater, like a bobsled gradually picking up speed. Being with her around the townhouse, drinking coffee and eating dinner and listening to her sing on the roof? It made me borderline infatuated with her. Nadia was the last thing I thought about when I fell asleep, and the first person to pop into my mind when I woke up.
I’d never heard of a friends-with-benefits arrangement like that.
“Who are the flowers for?” the old man next to me asked.
I glanced down at the bouquet in my hand. “They’re for a woman named none of your fucking business,” I snapped.
The man rolled his eyes and buried his nose in his program.
I glanced up at the catwalks. The other reason I was here had to do with paranoia. I had a lingering dread about the theater and the show in general. Probably since the saboteur had never been discovered. He was still out there somewhere. Hell, he was probably here, watching the show.
“Why are you here?” I asked the man next to me.
He lowered his program. “Because of nun.”
“Nun?”
“Nun,” he repeated dryly. “As in, none of your goddamn business.”
“Touché,” I grumbled.
Me simply being here wasn’t going to deter anything bad from happening. And I doubted that I would notice something screwy in time to stop it. But being here made me feel like I was in control. The illusion of being able to do something.
Hopefully it doesn’t mean I’m just a spectator to disaster.
From my spot up here in the balcony I had a level view of John Vandercant’s box to the side. He was wearing a gaudy white suit that made him easy to spot, even if I hadn’t already known it was his booth. He left the box and sat in one of the seats overlooking the theater, alongside a younger man in a suit. I squinted. The younger guy looked familiar, but it was tough to tell from here.
The lights dimmed and Andy’s voice came over the loudspeaker. I gave a start when he announced that Braden was back in the show.
So he shows up after all. Maybe Braden was a bigger drama queen than Tatiana ever was. I smiled to myself and decided to make sure I said so when I saw him after the show.
And then the orchestra struck its opening chord, and The Proposition was officially on its way.
I knew the show by heart, so it was fun watching everyone come out in a predictable way. Like nobody in the theater knew the future except me. First the dancers emerged, and then Dorian came singing out onto stage. I fist-pumped in my seat as he absolutely crushed his opening verse. He was easy to overlook with Braden out there, but Dorian was extremely talented in his own right. If this show went well, he’d have a shot of auditioning for some lead roles next.
And then there was Braden. I hadn’t seen him in a week, but he looked good in wardrobe. His voice was smooth and strong as he sang his notes as the friendly neighbor next-door who would soon be wooing the lead.
He sang and moved around the stage, eventually ending up on the left wing, mirroring Dorian on the right. The backup dancers all arranged themselves in the center, in a V-formation with an opening in the middle by the curtain. They extended their arms toward where Nadia would appear, and the music rose to an especially piercing note…
And nothing happened.
One heartbeat passed. Then a second. Nadia didn’t appear on cue. The music was already ahead of where she should be singing, and she hadn’t even come out on stage yet!
Something’s wrong. My mind raced by the third heartbeat, and I was ready to toss my flowers aside and race downstairs and backstage to see where she was, because none of this mattered at all if she was hurt or in danger…
By the fourth heartbeat the curtains parted and there she was, the lead of the show.
She quickly recovered by skipping a verse of the song, quickening her pace to catch up to where she should have been on her track. It was obvious to me, but most of the audience didn’t seem to notice.
“What a beautiful day!” she sung at the top of her lungs, “A day for sunshine and dancing and play…”
Aside from being late for her cue, she was crushing it now. Striding around stage confidently and hitting all her notes like it was the last show of the season rather than the first.
The song ended, and Nadia and the others were greeted with huge applause from the audience. I stuck the flowers between my legs so I could clap as loud as anyone.
Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going terribly wrong.