Romance in Italy

Romance in Italy - 20

Suddenly it seemed like everyone was fascinated with their shoelaces or the view out the window.  The director met everyone's eyes individually, staring them down. And one by one, they all dispersed, going back to their rehearsed routine. 

While all of that was occurring, my eyes wandered to the window above the toilet. It was a small square, its floral curtains pulled aside to allow in beams of light. Outside, a bare tree branch tapped against the window - tap, tap, tap. My eyes followed its movement, transfixed. It was mid-October and already, the weather was starting to get chilly. The trees had shed their leaves in preparation for winter. On few occasion, Verona received a few centimeters of snow that barely covered the roads and walkways. This was one of those occasion. White flurries drifted from the sky, kissing the ground and covering everything in a soft, white blanket. 

My observations and the director's glare match with the crew happened in seconds. 

"Grace?" he asked impatiently. 

I took a step forward, peering over his shoulders and was met with curious stares from the crew. Ducking my head, I crossed my arms uncomfortably over my chest. "I didn't eat this morning so I had some chocolate. I'm sure it's nothing." I explained, squirming under Ashton's and the director's intense stare. 

They both didn't look convinced. The director waved one of the crew members over and spoke quickly. "Go into Grace's dressing room and look for some chocolate. Any kind and bring them to me. Hurry."

"Look, I'm fine, okay?" I assured feebly. "Just some bad chocolate. Don't we have - "

The crew member the director sent off returned with the empty box of chocolate in his hands. "John, I found this in the trash." 

His name is John, I mused. I never knew that. 

John extended his hand and the box was placed in his palms. He flipped it over and over, inspecting every fine details. His brows furrowed and his lips thinned out. "I can't believe this," he muttered. "Get the entire cast in here." The boy scurried off and John turned to face me. 

"What?" I asked. "I'm going to be okay, right?

John sighed and shoved the box in my direction. I took it and looked at it bemusedly. "This expired...a year ago." 

I shook my head, denying his statement vehemently. "They tasted fine, I - " I was interrupted by the sudden churning of my stomach. My hands were slapped over my mouth on their own accord and I pitched towards the toilet, arms encircling the circumference of the bowl. 

"She's still vomiting?" someone asked from the door. 

Out of my periphery, I saw John holding up the box. "Bad chocolate. She won't be able to perform tonight if she's going to be throwing up every five minutes." 

I grunted and shook my head vigorously, ignoring the headache throbbing at the back of my skull. "No! I'm fine. I can do the show." As if on cue, I gagged and heaved whatever I had left in my stomach into the toilet bowl. 

"No, you can't." John stated firmly. "Look, I hate to do this but I'm going to have to replace you." 

"What?" I exclaimed, whipping my head to meet his eyes. John's face was grim but he nodded reluctantly. "But it's my role!" 

"And you have food poisoning. As much as I want you out there, you can't, not under your current condition. So, Judith, there's an extra Juliet costume on the rack. Go change. The show starts in three minutes." John ordered.

Judith nodded and beamed, "I have the entire script memorized."

John winced and faced the rest of the crew. "The rest of you, we'll make due with the situation. And Grace," his voice turned sympathetic when he addressed me. "change out of your costume whenever you can and get comfortable, alright?"