Skye M. Delaney
It was the opening tonight. It was tonight we were going to present all our hard work. Okay, the play was horribly directed and I wasn't really sure, what the hell it was about, but I was excited anyway. Tonight was the night we were going to humiliate ourselves in front of an audience, and I was hyped. Though I had already secretly talked to some of the others who also disagreed with Anthony's 'directing' - or as he would put it 'vision'- and we had made some last minute changes. I knew Anthony would be furious afterwards, but then again, there wasn't much he could do about it.
I humped around in the changing room, trying to get my neon green trousers on which seemed to be downright impossible. Did they shrink in the wash or something? After quite a bit of struggling I finally got my pants over my arse, and I tugged on my oversize jersey on, though I had no idea what team I supported and went to do my make-up. I caked it on, too dark foundation, silver eyeshadow, enhanced by more mascara and eyeliner than there should be legal. I picked up a bronzer and contoured my face like crazy, and on top of that I added almost a clown-like amount of blush. In the end I applied a light pink lipstick to my lips. I looked like a slut gone terribly wrong. Quickly I finished up, taking one last look in the mirror to make sure my curly red hair and makeup was as clown-like, without being totally clown-like, as it possibly could be - Anthony's orders. Then I went to join the others.
The girl, who played my best friend and secret lesbian lover - in the play just for the record, I unlike many of my friends was unwaveringly straight - came over to me. She had soft brown eyes and wild curly hair in the colour of dark chocolate. A delicate sweet face, with a cute beauty mark at the corner of her eye, glanced up at me. Unlike me, she had escaped the heavy duty make up - no idea why though. Maybe, because she unlike most people was basically just very kind person, not just towards a chosen few, but to everyone - even Anthony! I had no idea how she did it, maybe she smoked too much weed, making her incredibly chill all the time. But it couldn't be... She was way too... Well... Awake to be stoned right now. Her name was Maggie Marmont.
"So you ready?" she asked while trying to tug her own ridicules costume into some kind of order. It was even worse than my own, she too was wearing a jersey, but she had a ballet skirt on as a bottom. Bloody ridicules, I strangled an urge to rip off Anthony's stupid head.
"As ready as anyone can be to humiliate themselves, yeah", I told her, shaking my head and then added toward her cloths, "It's not gonna get any better, Mag."
She sighed and gave up her efforts. Then we all stood shifting from one foot to the other until everyone had settled in their seats, and we both walked upon the stage. Let the madness commence.
Jamie C. Bower
I settled in the seat and looked upon the stage where I myself had acted in my younger years - that made me sound like I was 70 years old, I'm not I swear! We sat in the front rows with a perfect view upon the stage, only one line in front of us where no one seemed to want to sit.
The place was rundown, the dark red wallpaper cracked around the corners, long razor like lines zigzag along the wooden planks on the floor, as if a million cat's had suddenly decided to sharpen their claws on it. The chairs were placed disorderly in the room making it rather hard it find our seats. But even though the place looked like it was in need of a serious renovation, it held the magical energy of the actors who had run through here over the years.
"Maggie said the storyline sucked balls, but the acting is great", Tristan informed as he pulled of his jacket spastically, almost hitting me and several other people in the head in the process.
"Dude!" I exclaimed "Control your arms!" Part of my face had over the night gone bright purple and I looked like really bad company because of it. Thankfully, there wasn't anything broken, it really did just look worse than it actually was.
"Ow, sorry", he mumbled as he finally got of the bloody jacket. I already sat in my seat slouching in my big trench coat as usual. I did not want to get noticed tonight. For one thing I didn't want to explain to some stranger what happened between me and Mathilda just yet. Secondly; I did not want to well... Explain my fucked up face, and most definitely not the reason behind it. To hide it I had my brown flat cap on. We sat in silence for a minute or two until the curtain went up and two girls walked upon the stage.
"That's Maggie!" Tristan whispered excitedly in my ear pointing at the girl in a jersey and a tutu skirt. Huh? She looked like Tristan a lot; brown hair, brown chocolaty eyes and rather skinny.
The girl next to her had red curly hair and... Shit... You've got to be kidding me... It was THAT girl! Despite the fact that this girl looked to be wearing about 50 tons of caked on makeup. But it was her! The exact same girl that had sucker punched me less than 24 hours ago.
Her eyes travelled across the audience for a quick scan and it was needless to say her eyes ended up staring into mine. Yes, she definitely recognized me. A look of horror (I know, it may be a too strong word to describe her expression, but it was the only word that went through my mind at that moment) went over her features. She stared at me disbelievingly in about half a second and then went on to say the first line, turning to her co- actress.
"Abby, I'm so scared", she practically scouted into her friends face, grabbing Abby's arm. There was a slight possibility the look of horror was on purpose.
As time went on the play just got more and more meaningless and utterly ridiculous. The play was really - like really - bad, that being said, the actors did pull it through somehow and managed to make it less horrible. It was said to be realistic drama, but it should have been absurd theatre for what I could tell. Somebody had really misinterpreted this play. I knew shit directing, when I saw it. Then - finally - one hour later the play ended and the actors walked out on the stage and received a pretty good applause. I locked eyes with the girl and she stared angrily back at me.
Why the hell was she the one glaring?! I was the one that got sucker punched! Not her! She better stop staring at me that way!
She kept staring. I glared back at her and she just rolled her eyes at me.
Bloody hell! I'm going to tell her off! I didn't know why, but I had to tell the woman off! She could not go around glaring at people; she had punched in the face! It was hugely disrespectful. This is what I told myself over and over. My temper getting redder and redder with the seconds passing.
After the actors had gotten backstage the director got up to bow, the applause was almost none existence. My faith in humanity was restored, well only a little bit.
The formalities were soon over and I the only thing, I could not for the life of me, get out of my head was that slutty caked makeup wearing redhead, - and not in a good way. That girl, woman... person was not going to get away with, 1) Making me feel stupid, because I didn't understand freaking French, 2) for punching me in the face(!) and 3) For glaring at me afterwards, like I was the one being out of place. I was not going to take it anymore! Not from anyone and especially not from girls! So - understandably - I jumped up to chase after her. I don't know why, the act was impulsive and Ididn't even register I was running before I was already on my legs.
She had, of course, vanished out of sight just at that moment. I turned I circles around myself, hearing Tristan say, "What is it Jamie?" from a distant place. As if he was talking through a glass window or water. I didn't answer him, nor really heard him it in the first place, because at that moment I saw a red curls bobbing up and down in the other end of the room. Suspiciously she looked back over her shoulder. She was on her way to one of the secret 'hiding rooms'. Thinking the flooding people on their way out would have shielded her.
The rooms were built in the theatres greatest period, providing an escape route for actors and what not. I knew about them, only because I myself had worked here, and it had been great fun sneaking up on the people in the rooms - where (spoilers!) people snogged a lot, and then having to deal with the revenge which undoubtedly followed. For the untrained eye it would look as if she vanished into the wall, but I knew better.
I sprinted after her taking leaps over the front row chairs and the railing separating the great room from backstage. within seconds I stood in front of the hidden door she had gone through. Good thing it couldn't be locked, though people should know I didn't always think that way, if you know what I mean. I pushed it open slowly, revealing the small changing room behind it. There was no one in here.
She had gone through the door at the other end. This door was normal; I went through it looking left and right, there was people streaming around me with various types of props and costumes in their hands. I went right toward the row of changing rooms at the end. I barked in at the first one without ; there was a guy in there screaming "DUDE!" when he saw me. Franticly I closed it and went on the next one.
This time I knocked waiting to hear the voice behind. She wouldn't know it was me knocking anyway, and I would recognize her voice. The woman had punched me in the face, believe it or not, you remember the voice if the person who sucker punches you. Especially, when that someone was a girl. It wasn't her; it was another male, shouting "who is it?" I didn't answer.
Like this it went on until I got to the second last changing room. I knocked again, wondering when I would hear Maggie's voice through one of the doors. I pondered if the Sucker-Punching-Red-head would be hiding, though I found it unlikely. She would consider herself safe, after all she had gone through a hidden door and how ever was she supposed to know, that I knew about it?
"Who is it?" A feminine voice asked from the other side of the door. It was her! I barked in entirely forgetting that she could be naked in there. Off course fate would have it that she totally was. That being nude, naked, bare, unclothed, stripped, starked, without a trim on her body, however you want to say it. A short scream echoed from her throat while she franticly tried to cover herself up with well the only thing in her hand, her undies.
I stared at her failing miserably to do so, then finally remembering to be a gentleman; I turned around slamming my head into the suddenly closed door. I got to stop doing that! A grunt escaped my lips as I tumbled back holding my hands to my head, though I did manage to stay on my feet, which were a plus.
"Stop following me!" she screamed at me from behind my back. To be honest, following her didn't seem the brightest idea now. 'Whatever happened to not being noticed Jamie?' I scolded myself. What had I expected? What? Did I want her to apologize again, because she kind off already done that. I said the stupidest thing I possibly could have.
"I'm not following you!" I swirled my body around to face her, but she made weird noises telling me not to. Promptly I turned bag to stare at the grimy yellow walls.
"Yes, you are!" she insisted.
"You punched me in the face!"
"You scared me half to death!" she was getting my blood boiling already, she punched me! What was with this asshole of a girl? I breathed in and out slowly trying to calm my temper. Then I said a little angrier that I had anticipated.
"I don't get you!" I yelled.
"Right back at you, buddy!" She sounded very mad and it made me happy. At least we were on the same page. Next followed silence. I didn't know how to continue after this.
"What your name?" I turned, relieved to see her in jeans and a shirt.
"What?" she snapped, a stunned and confused expression on her face.
"What's. Your. Name?" I said with pressure one each word.
"Scar-" She started but then she didn't finish, "Skye." she said instead, "What's yours?" She turned to pack her things together.
"Jamie Camp..." I stopped myself "Jamie, just Jamie."
"Well, just Jamie," she teased, plunging several sketchpads into her bag making me curious, "we got to get over this. Yes, I did hit you. But you got to stop following me, god damn it! How on earth did you even know I worked here?!"
"I didn't!" I replied a little too quickly, trying to seem less stalker-ish, but in my haste failing to do so "my friend's sister in the play!"
"What her name?" she asked as if I was a felon under interrogation. I'll mention it again, she punched me! ... Now I'm just starting to sound like a girl, aren't I?
"Maggie!" I answered almost like I expected a gold star. Her eyebrow narrowed, expecting me. Seeing if I was lying, thankfully I passed the test.
"Okay, but why did you flow me in here then?"
"I DIDN'T!" she shot me another raised eyebrow,"I don't know exactly!" I scouted at her and she just laughed a bit before answering, her features now composed.
"Calm down fellow." She said calmingly. I breathed in and out - unwillingly taking her advice - I was surprising how much I had to do that around her, I usually didn't have to try and calm myself this much around people, even the stupid inconsiderate ones. Then after much silence she finally spoke.
"You know... I really am sorry about punching you..." she spoke softly and sincerely, the anger and wrath gone from her voice. She sounded nice for a change.
"Yeah, I know... I'm sorry too... I was drunk..." I admitted, kicking a box on the floor, suddenly embarrassed of what I had done. Okay, I wasn't embarrassed, that I had been drunk. It was the reason behind it, which made me embarrassed and uncomfortable. I had gotten dumped.
"Yeah, I noticed. Why were you drinking?"
I froze I hadn't expected her to actually ask. A sudden urge to just answer the question overcame me. It was kind of like when you were in class and the teacher asked you something, you just felt like you had to answer. Almost as if it was your duty.
"I had just broken up with my girlfriend", immediately she raised her eyebrow at me, she knew I was lying, though I tried to tell myself I was altering the truth.
"Okay, she broke with me. Happy?" she smirked and let out a small puff. She turned toward me swinging her backpack on her shoulders, a smile plastered on her face. It suddenly occurred to me how pretty she was, big green eyes and full lips. She reminded me a little bit of Lily but then it was gone, and she was just the girl who punched me - or well no Skye. The animal had a name.
"You know what? Since you are indeed a broken man I am going to invite you." She declared to me, the bit about the broken man stung. "The others and I are having a party down at Yuki's pub. If you tag along, we'll see if we can get about the business of getting you laid. You need to get over the bitch that dumped you", she smiled wickedly at me and then walked past me bumping my shoulder in the process.
She left me here, staring at the walls. Then I quickly turned around to follow her. Getting around the business of getting me laid didn't seem like such a bad idea, and I had no bloody idea where this Yuki's pub where! I was intrigued.
A/N: remember to VOTE, and maybe COMMENT if you are enjoy the story! tell me your thoughts it means a lot! thank you!