Page 11 of Dramatic AF
“Don’t you two have work to do?”
The pair relented, offering no further commentary on my love life. Instead, they simply wore matching expressions of disappointment as they disappeared behind the curtain.
“Bunny?” Trick asked, his tone filled with amusement.
“I have no idea. He’s always called me that.” In fact, since our first introduction, I couldn’t remember Paulo ever using my given name.
Our eyes met then, our gazes holding as the silence stretched between us. Tension knotted in my shoulders when he continued to stare at me, my stomach fluttering with anticipation.
I knew what he wanted to ask, could practically see the words dancing on the tip of his tongue. I dropped my head and stepped away, putting some distance between us.
While I had nothing to hide, I really didn’t want to talk about Elijah right then.
Thankfully, before Trick could broach the topic, David called for the main cast to take our places. Exhaling in relief, I hitchedon a bright smile and jerked my head toward the stage behind me.
“I better get out there before he has an aneurysm.”
His eyes narrowed, and that ring of crimson flared again around the edges of his irises. Yet, when he spoke, he sounded completely in control.
“Break a leg.”
Bobbing my head, I spun around, hand pressed over my racing heart, and hurried to find my mark. The moment I spotted the stage crew wheeling the platform for the balcony scene into place, however, all those warm vibrant feelings vanished like mist on the wind.
I hated that damn thing.
Come opening night, the structure would transform into a beautiful set piece, complete with a number of safety features. For rehearsals, I got a hastily built slab of wood held together by hope and good intentions.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I gripped the railing and took a deep breath to steady my nerves before climbing to the top. Nearly eight feet off the ground, I hesitated again, my right eye twitching as I stepped gingerly onto the floating platform.
The joints creaked beneath my weight, but at least it didn’t sway this time.
Hands fisted at my sides, I forced myself to take slow, steady breaths and focus on blocking, lines, and my co-star who waited below. When he saw me watching him, Arkin gave me a rare smile and a supportive nod.
“You’ve got this,” he mouthed.
I managed a weak grin in return, though I doubted it looked convincing.
Curling my toes as if that might help me grip the platform, I tried to ignore the creak and tick of the scaffolding beneath me. The overture started, a recording that crackled from thespeakers placed throughout the theater. From the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of guys from the sound crew rush past at the edge of the stage.
As the music swelled and faded, flowing into the opening chords of my solo, I stepped forward, tilted my head back, and pictured a wintery night sky. I breathed through my nose, counting each beat by tapping my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
Another step. Then another. Inching closer to the cardboard railing that had been painted to look like stone and glued around the edges.
It happened in an instant.
A crack, sharp and urgent, splintered the melody, and the platform jerked beneath me. The front edge tipped forward, and for a heartbeat, I felt weightless, caught in that slow-motion moment right before disaster.
I heard someone shout my name, but it sounded distant, muffled by the sudden roar of blood in my ears. Scrambling for purchase, I grabbed desperately at the railing, but the flimsy cardboard buckled and shredded, useless in my grasp.
Then I was falling, the air knocked from my chest in a startled gasp. Instincts clawed at me, and I twisted mid-air, hands still reaching, my heart battering against my ribs. A scream lodged in my throat as I hurtled toward the stage floor, every muscle tensed for impact.
Just before I crashed to the ground, however, a flood of warmth rushed to meet me, a shimmering wind that wrapped around me like a gentle embrace. For a long, trembling breath, I hung suspended, the world hushed except for the wild, uneven thrum of my pulse.
Slowly, carefully, I floated to the floor, my body tilted upright so that I landed on my feet. My legs shook, threatening to buckle, and a wave of dizziness sent me stumbling to the side.
Right into Trick’s arms.
“Easy,” he said, a low murmur meant only for me. “You’re okay.”
