The curtains close on the deafening roar of the public's clapping and cheers. You exhale longly - it's over! You did it!
The cast gathers around the guy who plays Puck. He did a bewildering job - in fact you're pretty sure that everyone would agree on the fact that he gave the best performance of the night. For a second his eyes meet yours, and linger a second too long before shifting away.
A mixed feeling of regret and relief submerges you as you head backstage to take off your costume. On one hand, all of the pressure had gone - you don't have to worry about messing up your lines, or acting badly. You got a call three days ago asking you to replace one of the lead actresses, who plays Helena, because she fell ill, so you had to learn everything in a short amount of time and come to the rehearsals not knowing what to expect.
On the other hand... well, it's always like that after a performance. You feel a little lost and desolated that it's over. Plus, this isn't the kind of show that you do several nights in a row. And even so, a heavy cloud of nostalgia still comes to you.
"Um... hey? Excuse me?"
You jump, startled, and spin around. In front of you is standing the actor who played Puck. You didn't get the chance to see him from close, and it's only now that you notice how young he is - seventeen, maybe eighteen? Just like you! You thought he'd be at least in his late twenties.
And boy, is he good looking.
"Hi," he says with a wide grin. "I'm Neil. I didn't catch your name...?"
"Y/N," you say shyly, and shake the hand he's extending to you. Strangely you feel comfortable with him - at ease. "That was a great performance you gave out there," you add.
"Thank you! I'm glad you liked it." His eyes shift to your lips. "I haven't seen you at the previous rehearsals."
"Oh, I'm replacing Annie Beckett," you explain. "I only came yesterday and the day before."
"Oh, right." His face sinks a little. "Poor Annie. I hope she recovers soon. The whole cast - we were supposed to go out and celebrate tonight, but first she fell ill and now they've announced a snow storm."
"I'm sure there will be other occasions," you tell him.
"Neil?"
A young woman interrupts your conversation.
"Yeah?"
"Your father is here."
As soon as the word father comes out of her mouth, you see Neil's eyes darken. He lets out a sigh. "Are you all right?" you ask. "Yeah, yeah. Just - wait for me here, okay? I'll be right back. Wait here."
And with that, he rushes out.
But you follow him - off stage, into the hallway and to the entrance, where the crowd is streaming out. Only a man stays behind - tall, with a hat and a grey winter coat. He looks so serious, so... frightening. From where you are, you see Neil approaching him. The two of them have a quick and intense conversation - and suddenly his father snaps. Neil stops talking and looks away. Then the man grabs his wrist and pulls him out.
"Neil!" you shout. He turns around but the crowd is too thick - his friends are there too apparently, calling his name, but he is dragged outside, and his father gets inside a car. He snaps again, this time at a man in his forties who tried talking to Neil.
"Neil," you call again, and just as he is about to get in the car he stops at the sound of your voice. He looks up at you, and for a second you think you see tears in his eyes.
"Y/N, it's all right. Just - meet me here tomorrow, okay? At ten. Here, in front of the theatre. Okay?"
You nod.
"Get inside, Neil," barks his father, and he has no choice but to obey. The engine starts and soon the little car disappears at the corner of the street.
As you make your way back to the stage to gather your stuff, you think about him. His warm and caring eyes. His passionate tirades. The touch of his soft hand. Your meeting tomorrow.
But little did you know, Neil would never come to the date.
Little did you know, you would never see him again.