Television Romance

Under the Bleachers

INT. BACKSTAGE - NIGHT

"The third sketch just started," Jerry said, "You ready?"

"Do I have to actually go under the bleachers with Greg?" Vian asked, smoothing her hair so much it was probably creating static electricity.

"Yes."

"Does he even know it's my sketch?"

"Yes."

"What if it bombs?"

Bill was standing nearby, drinking from a plastic water bottle and blinking sweat out of his eyes. He tapped his thumb against the front of his leg rhythmically with his free hand. The stage lights were both bright and hot. He was no longer the drunk Bond double of Wednesday. Now, he was a seasoned cast member, hitting his marks and speaking his lines to the amusement of hundreds, or thousands, or maybe millions. Vian couldn't remember how many people watched this show. At the moment, she was trying to pretend it was just a couple.

"Just go, it'll be fine," Bill said, "I promise we won't fuck it up."

"I don't want to," Vian whined petulantly.

"And I didn't want to have dinner with my mother every night this week. But we all have to make compromises."

"I'm nervous."

"Me too," Bill shot back sternly, "Now go." There wasn't much to say to that, so Vian made her way to the end of the hall where it curved past the stage and emptied under the bleachers. She walked cautiously toward Greg where he stood with another writer. She tried to time it so she'd be there just as the third sketch ended and her sketch began, but of course, it didn't work out so she hovered awkwardly out of earshot until it was her turn.

Greg looked up at her and checked his clipboard.

"Vian," he said, looking up again. It was more of a statement than a question, but Vian nodded.

"You ready?" She nodded again. A lie.

"Can you speak?" His tone was not unkind, but it flustered her.

"Yes, sir."

"There's no need for sir. Let's see how it goes." He motioned with a pen toward the stage where the set was transforming.

"'Going at it like rabbits,'" narrated Nick dramatically, dressed in a lab coat, "That's the expression. But what if you're a bunny whose sex drive isn't quite up to speed? Introducing: 'Viagra for Rabbits.'" The audience laughed. So far, so good. Next...

Vian might've blacked out because she blinked and the sketch was over. Above her and in front of her people cheered in appreciation and the show cut to a commercial break.

"Alright," Greg said. Vian stood for a moment before she realized that that single word was her cue to leave. She speed-walked into the backstage hallway as quietly as she could.

"Hey! That was great!" Jerry told her as soon as she passed into his sightline. She just nodded as dumbly as she had to Greg. Bill had vanished and Juliet was still nowhere to be found.

"What'd he say?"

"He said, 'Alright.'"

"That's good!"

"It is?"

"It is. When it's really bad he'll say 'Well, that was certainly something.'"

"And when it's really good?"

"He says, 'Well, that was certainly something.'" Vian gave him a look but Jerry just shrugged.

"Welcome to the ring, Li."