Chapter 61 - Nadia

Something was different with Braden. The look in his eyes wasn’t just an actor speaking their lines. It was real.
I was certain of it.
But I didn’t have time to think about it now. As soon as the scene ended I was whisked away to the changing area to put on my next wardrobe. I had exactly 90 seconds while Dorian’s character spoke with his agent before I had to be back on stage, and thinking about Braden was only distracting me.
That, and the note from the saboteur was still on my mind.
When I exited the changing area, I was greeted by Director Atkins. “I’ve commissioned help.”
A familiar face came around the corner from backstage. “Ryan?”
The normally scruffy man had cleaned himself up. He wore a suit and tie, although the tie was slightly crooked. His dress shoes were shined, and his hair was perfectly trimmed and parted down the side. He looked like a redheaded David Beckham.
She shoved a bouquet of flowers at me. “These, uh, are for you.”
I accepted them, then shook off my surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Atkins grabbed the flowers and tossed them onto a crate in annoyance. “He’s going to help me search for anything out of the ordinary. Assuming you’re certain we can trust him.”
“Hey!” Ryan said.
“I’m positive.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for being here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
My musical cue was coming up, so I gave him a final look of appreciation and then slid through the curtain.
With Ryan helping out, I felt a great deal more safe than I had before. I was able to focus on my songs, moving around the stage while belting out my notes. The saboteur didn’t even enter my mind.
Dorian and Braden were great, but I was the star of the show. The applause for my songs was noticeably louder than the others. And when I sang More Than Money, the crushingly haunting solo? It brought the freaking house down.
And no sandbags fell on me at the climactic point, which was a plus.
The curtains closed in front of me and the orchestra played out the rest of the song, signaling intermission. We had 30 minutes to rest and relax before the second half.
“You’re phenomenal!” one dancer said to me backstage. “Did you hear them, Nadia? They love you!”
“She’s not wrong,” Dorian said with a grin. “It feels like Broadway out there. You really kicked things up a notch from our rehearsals.”
“You’re just saying that,” I said, blushing.
“I’m just saying it because it’s true.”
Another dancer picked up a bouquet from a nearby crate. “Who are these flowers for?”
Dorian grabbed the note attached to the flowers. “Ryan? Our Ryan?”
“Dude, you should have seen him!” I said excitedly. “He’s all cleaned up. Like Aladdin before he meets Jasmine.”
Carmina cleared her throat. “You need to rest your vocal cords. You may listen to your friends talk, but I would advise you not to speak yourself. In fact, you should be drinking cool liquids to calm your throat.”
I gave Dorian an apologetic smile. “I guess I’d better go back to my dressing room.”
“Don’t act so smug. I have one too.”
“Does it have a leather couch and a wardrobe and a fridge full of drinks?”
Dorian frowned. “No! Mine only has a single makeup table and chair!”
I smiled sweetly. “Too bad for you.”
Atkins intercepted me halfway to my room. “There you are.”
“Any luck?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Ryan’s been searching the catwalks and sub-stage. I even had Andy start watching the security tapes in between running the lighting and sound boards. There’s no sign of anything unusual. Although it’s tough to tell with so many people running around.” Atkins glanced at a stage hand who jogged by with a cardboard cutout of a tree in his hands. “Half these guys I haven’t seen before today. How do you feel?”
“I feel great,” I said. “A little sweaty from all the routines…”
“I mean, how do you feel about your safety?” he clarified. “It’s not affecting you at all, is it?”
I gave him a reassuring smile. “Honestly, I feel much safer than I expected. Knowing that you and Ryan—and Andy!—are monitoring things has helped me focus on what really matters: the show.”
Atkins looked skeptical, but bobbed his head. “Alright. Rest up while you can. You have three straight songs to start the second half.”
“This may surprise you,” I said teasingly, “but I know which songs I have and when they are. We’ve been trying this neat new thing called rehearsing.”
“Very funny,” he said dryly. Then he opened my dressing room door and poked his head inside. “Alright, looks clear. We’ll knock on your door for the five-minute warning.” He patted my arm. “You’re owning that stage. I’m proud to have you as the lead.”
I was glad when he walked away because it meant he couldn’t see the tears threatening in the corners of my eyes.
When the door closed behind me in my dressing room, I realized that I didn’t feel comfortable being alone. After all the running around, the intensely bright lights, and the loud music and singing, it was alarmingly peaceful in my room.
I turned the deadbolt on the door, then glanced at the ceiling. There was only a single air vent in the corner, too small for someone to crawl through. I should be safe in here.
Unless a bomb goes off or something.
I shook off the thought and opened the mini-fridge. My fingers wrapped around the first bottle of water, but then I imagined the saboteur injecting poison into the bottle with a syringe and somehow sealing it up. I shifted bottles around and grabbed one from the very back, and made sure the tamper-proof plastic cracked when I opened the top. Even still, I took a testing sip of water before deciding I was safe.
I collapsed into the leather couch, sideways with my head up on one arm. My body sank pleasantly into the cushions, and my muscles began to relax.
The first half of the show was over, and I had done fantastic.
My concerns began to shift in my head. My previous priority was simply surviving the night without any embarrassing screw-ups, but now that I was doing well I aimed my sights higher. I wanted to get a good review in the paper. A glowing review. I wanted to do so well that I had agents and casting directors blowing up my phone for the next week, demanding I audition for new shows for the upcoming season.
I wanted to do well enough to land a spot on Broadway.
Overwhelmed with excitement, I kicked my legs up and down on the couch and giggled. Oh, what a difference the last two hours had made!
I was so preoccupied with such dreams that I didn’t notice the person approaching behind me, raising the gun high in the air and then bringing it down on my head.