Chapter 64 - Nadia

With Ryan and Andy fast at work, the fire was extinguished within moments. A quick investigation around the exterior rooms showed that it hadn’t spread beyond the old sound testing room, where it had feasted on the flammable sound-proof foam. A few other cast members were shaken up by the smoke, but otherwise there was no damage or panic.
Director Atkins called the police, who sent over two new detectives to survey the damage. The trapdoor in the hidden room led to a crawlspace between the air conditioning and sewage lines underneath the building. It ran for 50 feet before exiting at a drainage grate in an alley beside the theater.
Tatiana Vandercant was found two blocks down the street, watching the theater with a pair of binoculars and waiting for it to go up in flames. She was taken to a police station in handcuffs. We learned about this second-hand from the detective on site, and never got to see her again.
Braden wrapped me in a blanket and gave me bottled water to sip. The phlegm I coughed up for the next ten minutes looked like black sludge, but otherwise I felt fine.
“I can’t believe it was Tatiana,” Director Atkins whispered. He was in shock as he paced the length of my small dressing room, which was crowded with people now. “She could have just run off if she didn’t want to be in the show. She didn’t need to hurt anyone.”
“Tatiana didn’t seem very sane when she tied me up,” I said. “I think the stress and pressure had gotten to her.”
Ryan sat next to me on the couch and rubbed my arm. “You sound like you feel sorry for the crazy bitch.”
“In a way, I do. But only a little bit,” I quickly added. “She did try to kill me.”
The police detective cleared his throat. “Everyone but Nadia needs to leave. I want to take everyone’s statement one at a time, so wait outside to be called.”
I jumped up from the couch. “How long is that going to take? We have to get back to the show!”
Andy touched me gently. “Nadia. It’s been an hour since intermission started. People are starting to leave.”
“Which is why I need to know what’s going on,” someone shouted into the room. He was wearing a tuxedo and had a wand in one hand. The orchestra conductor. “My woodwinds are getting anxious. When will the second half begin?”
“Tonight’s show will be canceled,” Atkins said definitively. “Andy, go make an announcement so everyone can go home.”
“No!” I protested. “It’s not too late!”
Dorian gave me a sympathetic wince. “It’s over, Nadia. It sucks, but…”
I pushed past them and ran down the hall. The rest of the cast was there backstage, and began shouting questions at me as I passed:
“Nadia! You’re okay!”
“I heard you died.”
“Did they catch the saboteur? Someone said there was a small fire.”
“Are we starting the show again?”
I ignored them and rushed to the curtain, finding the gap and slipping through to the side of the stage facing the crowd. A quarter of the seats were now empty, with more people getting up to leave. A short cheer went up when the audience saw me, but there was an annoyed buzz in the air that remained.
The orchestra conductor appeared down in the orchestra pit. He spoke a few words to the men and women holding musical instruments, and they began packing up their things. When the audience saw this, even more people began to get up to leave.
No, no, you can’t leave, the show isn’t over!
And in my desperation, I did the only thing I knew how to do: I started the second half of the show.
“I’ve been given a proposition,” I sang at the top of my lungs, practically shouting the words to the theater. “What will I doooooooooooo with this proposition?”
I must have been a ridiculous sight. I was wearing the wrong wardrobe for this song, and what I had on was covered in smoke marks. My makeup was smudged. The curtain was still drawn, so the set for this scene wasn’t visible. And there was no musical accompaniment. Just my own semi-hoarse voice screaming into the uncomfortable silence of the theater.
But I didn’t care.
I strode around the stage in my track, singing the opening lyrics to the second half of The Proposition, excited and hopeful. But it was a song involving many other people, so I couldn’t do it by myself.
Fortunately, Dorian came striding onto stage right as his part came in. He winked at me, and his voice was high and clear and filled me with happiness:
“My wife is a peach and my dreams are a bust. Try harder and harder, I know that I must!”
The drummer down in the orchestra pit was the first to begin playing, followed by a single, sad clarinet. Then the orchestra conductor shrugged and waved his people back to their places. Within seconds the entire orchestra was playing the song as if nothing was wrong.
Behind us, the curtain opened to reveal the set. Braden came jogging out at the perfect time to sing his lyrics for the song:
“I’ve given her a proposition!” he roared in a deep, masculine voice. “What will she doooooooooo with my proposition?”
He smiled warmly at me. Both because it was part of the stage direction, and because I knew he was telling me something. Reiterating that he forgave me for my screw up, and wanted to try things with me. We smiled together as the music filled the theater.
It was a flood of activity after that. The backup dancers came filing out in their track, swirling and jumping behind us. My voice was a little raspy from the smoke, but it quickly disappeared and I felt strong.
And the audience? Most of them returned to their seats. Not all, but enough that the theater was still mostly full. Enough to make my singing worth it.
When the song ended, the roar of the crowd was louder than at any point in the first half. Stage hands ran out to swap the set for the next scene. The orchestra began the next song. I was so enamored with the applause that Braden had to take my hand to lead me from the stage so Dorian could begin his next solo song.
Director Atkins was waiting for me backstage with the detective. “You sound pretty damn good for a woman who almost choked to death on smoke,” Atkins said.
“What the hell are you doing?” the detective demanded. “I need to interview you and the rest of the cast.”
Atkins rounded on me with his hands planted on his hips. “Yeah, Nadia. What are you doing?”
There was a long pause where I was very, very confused.
“You should be in wardrobe,” Atkins finally said. “You’ve got about six minutes to change and get your makeup reapplied before your next song.”
The detective sputtered. “Her dressing room is a crime scene!”
“Good point. You can use Braden’s,” Atkins said. He gave me a small wink.
While the detective shouted and made a scene, I ran back to Braden’s dressing room to get cleaned up.
The rest of the show went on wonderfully. Since it was almost canceled, it felt like we were playing with house money. My voice was strong and confident, and all of the anxiety from the first half disappeared.
My character, Jane, unexpectedly rekindled her relationship with her husband, Marshall. His musical career was beginning to take off, which brought in an influx of money and less stress and traveling than before. But Jane was still having an affair with Hector, who refused to break off their arrangement even after Jane no longer needed the money. Hector threatened to tell Jane’s husband if she broke off the affair, keeping her torn between the two men she loved.
And as I acted out the scenes on stage, it was similar to how I felt outside of the show. Except it wasn’t two men: it was four.
The show ended tragically. Marshall learned of the affair after coming home early from a show, and nearly murdered both Jane and Hector with his pistol. Instead, he chose to leave Jane and strike out on his own. Jane tries to find comfort in the arms of Hector, but the near-death experience has made him realize that he can’t live a life based on such a tremendous lie. In the end, he leaves Jane too.
After one more final, sorrowful song, Jane drinks poison and kills herself on stage, like a sad, lonely Juliet without her Romeo.
The roar from the crowd was overwhelming. As the theater lights came on I saw the audience break out in an immediate standing ovation, cheering and whistling their approval. I felt lighter than air as the rest of the cast came out, took their bows, and then the curtain finally closed.
The cast devolved into a giddy circus of high-fives, hugging, and tears. All of the stress and the pressure to perform over the past few months had finally been lifted. It felt like giving birth to a child. Except we had to go do it all over again tomorrow.
But we couldn’t wait.
I think just about every person in the cast hugged me and told me how proud they were of me. Several dancers apologized for believing that I had been the one to sabotage the theater just to steal the lead role. It was vindicating to hear them say so.
When we got backstage, Atkins gave me the biggest hug of all. “I knew you had it in you,” he whispered while holding me close. “You have so much potential, Nadia. You’re going to go far.”
I didn’t have any words, so I just held him and struggled not to cry.
When he released me, I found myself surrounded by four men. My favorite four men who I’d lived with and grown close to.
Dorian took my hands in his first. After all the praise from Atkins and the cast, I was expecting the same from him. So when he did speak, I was shocked.
“I love you,” Dorian said. “I’m in love with you, Nadia. I know it wasn’t the relationship I said I wanted, but I have to say it because I know it’s true.”
Ryan made an angry noise and grabbed his flowers from the crate where he’d left them earlier in the show. “I was going to tell her that I loved her! Tonight!”
“You snooze, you lose.”
Ryan whirled to me with a shimmer in his eyes. He shoved the flowers at me as if they were a bomb. “I’m head over fucking heels in love with you. Fuck having a physical relationship. I want more. I need more.”
I smiled and hugged him. “There’s something here,” I agreed. “Something more than just two fuck-buddies.”
The smile he gave me split his handsome face in two.
Andy cleared his throat. “I do not think I can top either of those proclamations. I have no flowers to give you tonight. But… Nadia, I…”
As he struggled for the words, I stood on my tip-toes to kiss him on the lips. “I know exactly how you feel. And I feel the same way, Andy.”
“So… three of us love her?” Ryan asked. “That’s one hell of a fucking problem.”
The fact that he’d said three made Braden’s exclusion all the more awkward. He was standing there with his arms crossed, very obviously not proclaiming his love for me. I shrugged and tried to find the words to say, but he beat me to it.
“I like you a lot, Nadia. Maybe it’ll be more than that. But I forgive you for what happened.” He shook his head and smiled wryly. “It’s my own damn fault for putting so much pressure on you.”
“That’s good enough for me,” I said. “For now. I’m glad you forgive me.”
And then we all had one of those weird, awkward group hugs. Except as they surrounded me with their bodies, holding me tight between them, any awkwardness melted away. I felt safe when I was with them, and for different reasons.
“Back to the problem,” Ryan said. “Are we gonna King Solomon her here in the theater? Cut her into four pieces to share?”
“I’ve had enough threats on my life for one night,” I said, elbowing him in the ribs. “And honestly? Why don’t we keep the situation that we already had going?”
“What, like sharing you?” Andy asked inquisitively.
“Why not? I’ve enjoyed it so far. And I’m excited to see where it goes.”
Atkins ruined the moment by approaching. “Nadia? There’s someone who wants to speak to you.”
“The detective, right?” I said with a sigh. “I guess I should be happy he waited until after the show to take my statement.”
But the man who walked up behind Atkins wasn’t the detective. He wore an expensive white suit, and his black dress shoes were polished to a glorious shine. “Vandercant,” Braden whispered.
“Oh shit,” Ryan said.
But my jaw was dropping for another reason.
I knew him already.
“Jack?”