Page 74 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” Jonah whined, gripping the edge of the work surface as he groaned loudly. “This is my fault. It’s all my fault.”
“I’m sure you can fix it.”
“I can’t.”
“Look, don’t put pressure on yourself,” Bastien said, daring to come closer again as he placed a comforting hand on Jonah’s back and rubbed small circles there to comfort him. “You’ve got a lot going on right now. Give it some time. If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be, right?”
“I should have trusted him.”
“What happened?”
“I saw him at a meeting with Colbie and his agent. And I thought they were signing contracts for him to take over as Achilles. And I thought that because Colbie had been dropping hints tomyagent about not renewing my contract. I hate her, Colbie, I fucking hate her.”
“She’s an absolute idiot,” Bastien fumed. “You know what? Fuck her. Fuck her. She doesn’t deserve you. She doesn’t deserve me. She doesn’t deserve Dexter either.” Bastien paused then rubbed a hand over Jonah’s back again. “Let it all out, babe,” Bastien said, and it only dawned on Jonah then he wasn’t just shouting, but he was crying too. A weight lifted from his shoulders, and he could finally see the end of an endless dark tunnel. He could see light there, and he could run toward it, and hopefully find Dexter along the way.
Twenty-Nine
“Come with me. We don’t need their war. We can bathe in rivers and feast on the fruits of the vine.”
—“Come with Me,”The Wooden Horse, Act Two
Julianna kissed Jonah’s cheeks before cupping her hands around his and smiling warmly at him. He knew he performed well, but he wasn’t expecting such an emotional response from her. He had just finished singing “I Don’t Care Much.” He saw the way she watched him as he performed, her eyes following his every movement before she tried, and failed, to blink back tears.
“You were amazing,” she said, leaning close to him before letting out a giddy laugh. “Isn’t he just perfect?” she called over her shoulder to the rest of her team, who gave a whooping cheer and clapped their hands together. “I knew this role was made for you the moment I saw you onstage at the Persephone, but I needed to make sure, and I’m so glad you came here today and did what you just did up on that stage.”
“Thank you,” Jonah said, and she hugged him, then bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement.
“I’m going to be calling Melanie as soon as you leave. I really hope you take this part, Jonah. We are going to be making something truly magical, and you’re going to be at the heart of it. And, on a completely personal level, thank you so much for coming here today. Melanie told me these past couple of weeks have been hard for you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Oh,” Jonah said, flustered. “Thank you. It’s been... I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I lost my mum last year,” she said. “I understand how overwhelmed you must feel right now.”
“It’s an odd feeling more than anything.”
“Melanie said you’re back onstage tonight. Are you sure you’re ready?” Julianna asked.
“Yeah. Dad wouldn’t want me moping around. He’d probably be cross with me for taking any time off, actually.”
“Well, break a leg, okay? We are all rooting for you.”
Jonah felt like a broken record as he thanked her and the rest of the casting team again and again. He was still floating in a sort of daze. She loved him. They all did. He took the song, a song he once played on the piano with his father, and placed everything else to the back of his mind. He hadn’t felt like this since his audition for Achilles. He left the room back then with a small glimmer of hope that he might get the role, and he did, and now... now Julianna Orwell was asking him to be part of one of her shows.
He kept his hands in his pockets as he walked, turning the month’s events over and over in his head. His father’s death, the funeral, breaking up with Dexter, and now, to finish it off, auditioning for Julianna. He stopped on Brick Lane and grabbed a coffee, balking at the cost of it but paying anyway. He walked down the street and sipped it as a small burst of rain splattered from the sky. The coffee tasted bitter and burned the back of his tongue, but he’d be damned if he didn’t pretend to enjoy his five-pound cortado. As the rain gained momentum, he ducked down the metal stairs that led to the Brick Lane vintage market to avoid the downpour.
He’d been here a few times with Sherrie and stood by as she fawned over retro jackets and oversized sunglasses. He’d even been here once with Bastien when he insisted he needed a particular style of cowboy boots and got it in his head they would be waiting for him at the market. They weren’t, and he left in a mood before buying some overpriced sliders at a pop-up fashion shop in Covent Garden. Jonah preferred regular stores; he didn’t like having to search through racks upon racks to find something he liked only to be disappointed when it wasn’t his size or cost more than his monthly rent. Today, however, the market wasn’t ascrowded as it usually was, and he meandered around without the pressure of Sherrie needing to find all the bargains or Bastien darting toward anything that resembled a cowboy.
He took little interest in the clothes, looking down at his phone rather than actively browsing, absently scrolling through Dexter’s Instagram. He’d archived a lot of the photos of them together, the ones of them messing about backstage that the Dexah fans went wild over when he posted them. Now the gossip forums were filled with #RIPDexah hashtags, though neither of them confirmed a breakup. They had nothing to confirm, given they never made anything official on social media, but Dexter removing the photos spoke more than words ever could. He hadn’t, however, deleted the photo he posted of Jonah the day after Wes attacked him, and Jonah read and reread the caption until he could see it even when he closed his eyes:
@Itsjonahpenrose I promise to always make you smile like this, even on the days when smiling is the last thing you want to do.
He didn’t know if Dexter left it there deliberately or if he’d forgotten to remove it when culling Jonah from his social media, but he hoped it was the former, that the promise still stood. Jonah just needed to sort himself out, which was exactly what he was going to do. As he slipped his phone into his pocket, deciding he’d had enough of Dexter’s salad photos and pouting selfies, he stopped in his tracks and stared at the garment in front of him.
A jumper. Forest green with a Golden Labrador embroidered on the front. It truly was as hideous as Jonah remembered it. He ran his fingers along the collar then down the sleeves and turned it inside out to look at the label. Piniquo. And there, just beneath the label, was an ironed-on name tag readingDexter Ellis. Because of course Dexter ironed his name into his atrocious items of clothing.
“What are the bloody chances?” Jonah muttered to himself as the woman behind the till craned her neck to look at him.
“That’s a Piniquo. It’s part of their limited collection. They didn’t make many of those,” she said with a smile.
