Chapter 70-Reactions-1

Nadia's POV
The Town Car pulled up to the brownstone just after ten. I sat quietly as Braden paid the driver, my mind still processing the evening's revelation. The Phantom of the Opera. London. A potential move across the ocean.
"You're worried about them," Braden said, not a question but a statement.
I nodded. "I feel like I'm choosing between my dream role and our... arrangement."
"It's just an audition," he reminded me, taking my hand as we walked toward the front door. "Nothing's decided yet."
But we both knew that wasn't entirely true. Vandercant wouldn't have arranged this meeting if he didn't think we had a strong chance. The producer had connections all over the theater world, and his endorsement carried significant weight.
Lights still burned in the living room windows. As we entered, I found the other three men waiting, arranged in what looked like carefully casual positions. Dorian sat in his favorite armchair, paging through a fashion magazine. Ryan sprawled on the sofa, pretending to watch a Rangers game on mute. Andy stood by the window, fiddling with the dimmer switch he'd installed last month.
The room went silent as we entered. All eyes fixed on me.
"So?" Dorian finally asked, unable to contain himself. "Did he tell you?"
I glanced at Braden, who squeezed my hand encouragingly.
"About the Phantom audition in London?" I said. "Yes."
Ryan muted the TV entirely. "And?"
"And... I think we should go for it."
A visible wave of tension moved through the room. Dorian broke into a dazzling smile, while Ryan's expression became carefully neutral. Andy just nodded, his eyes betraying a complex mix of emotions.
"It's a huge opportunity," Andy said after a moment. "You have to take it."
"All of you knew?" I asked, suddenly angry. "And nobody thought to warn me?"
"Braden wanted to tell you himself," Dorian said, setting aside his magazine. "Besides, we weren't sure how you'd feel about..." He let the sentence hang unfinished.
"About leaving us behind," Ryan completed bluntly.
The truth of it hung in the air. Dorian moved to the bar cart, pouring drinks without asking who wanted what. He handed me a gin and tonic—my favorite—and distributed the others with practiced ease.
"It's not definite yet," Braden reminded everyone, loosening his tie. "We still have to audition."
"Please," Dorian scoffed. "They're practically begging for you. All three of us. A package deal."
"Easy for you to say," Ryan muttered.
Dorian shot him a warning look, but I caught it.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
Ryan shrugged. "Nothing. Just that it's convenient how this opportunity includes you, Braden, and Dorian, but not me and Andy."
"Ryan," Andy cautioned.
"No, let him talk," I said, stepping closer to Ryan. "You think I orchestrated this somehow?"
"Of course not," Ryan said, backpedaling slightly. "But you have to admit the timing is interesting. Just when things are going well here, just when we've all found our balance—suddenly there's this perfect opportunity that splits us up exactly like—"
"Like what?"
"Like the conventional couples versus the side pieces," Ryan finished, his voice low.
The room went still. I felt my face flush with anger.
"That's not fair," Braden interjected. "Nobody planned this."
"And nobody views you as 'side pieces,'" I added, hurt evident in my voice.
Ryan ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just... hard."
Andy moved from his spot by the window, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Ryan. "We knew this might happen someday. All of us pursuing theater careers—somebody was bound to get an opportunity elsewhere."
"I just didn't think it would be so soon," Ryan admitted.
Dorian, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, cleared his throat. "I have a suggestion," he said. "What if this is just temporary? A six-month contract, maybe a year. London is just a flight away."
"A seven-hour flight," Ryan pointed out.
"Still," Dorian pressed, "we could visit. And after the contract ends, we reassess. Maybe Andy and Ryan could find opportunities in London by then."
I looked around at the four men who had become my family. The idea of leaving any of them behind made my chest ache, but the thought of passing on Phantom was equally painful.
"When do you leave for the audition?" Andy asked.
"Next Thursday," Braden answered.
Andy nodded, calculating. "That gives us a week. We should make it count."
The simple practicality of his statement broke some of the tension. Ryan drained his drink and stood up.
"Well, if we only have a week left together, I'm not wasting it fighting," he declared. "Come here, superstar."
He pulled me into a bear hug, lifting me slightly off the ground in that way he knew I secretly loved. When he set me down, his usual cocky grin had returned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Besides," he added, "I've always wanted to vacation in London."

Nadia's POV
Morning light filtered through the curtains of Andy's bedroom, where I'd spent the night. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and padded down the hallway to the kitchen. To my surprise, Dorian was already there, dressed impeccably as always, making coffee.
"You're up early," I said, gratefully accepting the mug he offered me.
"Couldn't sleep," he admitted. "Too much planning to do. London, Nadia. Can you believe it?"
His excitement was infectious, but I felt a twinge of guilt seeing it. "You're really happy about this, aren't you?"
"Of course! The West End is the pinnacle for someone like me. And playing the Phantom—" He lowered his voice to a dramatic baritone, "—is a dream come true."
I smiled despite myself. "Have you ever even been to London?"
"Once, for a week when I was in college. Study abroad program. It was magical." He leaned against the counter, eyes distant with memory. "The theater district, the history, the fashion. You'll love it."
"If we get the parts," I reminded him.
Dorian waved dismissively. "Details."
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping our coffee.
"What about Ryan and Andy, though?" I finally asked.
Dorian's expression sobered. "They'll be alright. It's not like we're ending things with them. We're just... expanding our horizons."
"Ryan seemed genuinely upset last night."
"Ryan is always dramatic. Remember when we changed the brand of beer we keep in the fridge?"
I laughed softly. "He refused to drink anything for two days."
"Exactly. He'll adjust." Dorian reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "This doesn't have to change everything, you know. Just some things."
Footsteps on the stairs announced Braden's arrival. He entered the kitchen in sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair still rumpled from sleep.
"Morning," he mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee.
"We need to talk about repertoire for the audition," Dorian said immediately. "I'm thinking 'Music of the Night' for me, obviously, but with a different interpretation than the standard—"
"Dorian," Braden interrupted, "it's not even seven yet. Can we talk about this after breakfast?"
"Fine," Dorian conceded. "But we have less than a week to prepare."
"And we will," Braden assured him, sitting next to me. "But first, coffee."
I smiled at their familiar dynamic, but my mind drifted to the two still sleeping upstairs. How many more mornings like this would we have, all five of us under one roof?