Dreaming Together

Chapter 3

Though there was more than Max's story that Lena had to care about. With the annual fest coming up, it was her first time carrying the responsibility of a playwright. Having a hundred fifty drafts and wracking her head on three casting calls for the same, she finally got a call for narrating in the dry run.

Lena wrote a lot of stories, but this was the first time ever that she got the chance to narrate it out to the world. As an assigned playwright, Lena stood on the stage while the formal dry run of the fest began, her heart pounding in her chest. 

The stage lights blared down on her, illuminating every inch of the set, but all she could see was the sea of faces staring back at her. The auditorium was filled with whispers and murmurs, and Lena couldn't help but feel like everyone was there to watch her fail.

Running around checking performance flow and event set up, Max could hear whispers around from behind the curtains of the backstage. 

"Who do you think you're fooling?" "The dean is there" "The plots sucks" "Lena, you stammer." "Look at you? " 

Turning around to check  who was speaking to Lena like that, he saw nobody there. 

 "Hey? You okay?" asked Max as he saw the script trembling in Lena's hands. 

He could sense her fear and reached out to take her hand. "Lena, you've got this," he said, his voice low and reassuring. He held her tiny hands with all the warmth flowing down to Lena's cold struck tiny hands.

She tried taking comfort in his words, but the whispers around her were like a storm in the ears. She could hear her own voice, muttering her fears of messing up. 

Somehow, Max heard it too and leaned in closer. Confused, but confident, Max held Lena's hand repeating

 "You're the best writer I know. Pinkett's make the best coat I have ever imagined and Terry is the greatest mischief that I know. I cannot fathom how Lana would survive without Kass" "They don't know what magic the play holds." "The characters you have created deserve to be seen and heard"

Lena was surprised to hear how Max knew characters from every story that she wrote. It struck her like a flash of lightening. To know someone knew about the personal library collection she's been writing for herself and her two wattpad fans.

Embarrassed as she was, she snapped back to reality as Max continued muttering,

"Hey, what's even worse than a story that remains untold?" "Go, tell the tale"

"Max, where did you read about Pinketts and Terry?"

"Pink-what?" You seem a little lost, Lena. W-What is up?" stammered Max urging Lena to snap back in the moment.

"Nothing, never mind. I am ready, Thanks." huffed Lena.

Max was almost scared of how Lena read his mind in that moment. Because that's all he could think about but couldn't muster up the courage to say it out loud.

Nevertheless, he continued with his routinely event check while wiping off his forehead with his handkerchief.

Lena took a deep breath and tried to push the whispers out of her mind. She recited her lines, her voice trembling at first, but soon growing stronger. As she performed, Max stood by the podium, his presence grounding her and giving her the confidence she needed to make it through.

When the rehearsal was over, Lena felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She had done it, she had made it through. But her relief was short-lived. As she was packing up her things, she heard Brian, the lead actor, talking to his friend. "Who would even date Lena? She's so awkward" he said, his words like daggers in her heart. "Not everybody can live the story, some are better off writing it in a corner" he further mocked in front of his co-lead, Kim.

"We need the hall to be empty within the next 10 minutes, need to hand over the keys to the department. Please co-operate." Max clenched in anger.

Carrying her sweater, as Lena was about to leave, Max asked her to stay. "Lena, I need to talk to you. It's important."

Wiping her rosy nose, and hiding her wet eyes, Lena tried refusing until he held her hand.

"Lena, please."

As they stood on the dimly lit stage in the empty auditorium, Max heard a voice sobbing in the corner of the theater. He looked around, but there was no one there. Lena, however, seemed to be more awake and aware than ever.

"Max, what's going on?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Max took a deep breath and explained that he had been feeling off lately with all the work and that he needed to take his best friend back in town to a dance.

"I'll cook for the next two days but please teach me." Lena couldn't refuse such an offer.

Tugging one of his airpods in her ear, both swayed across the theatre stage, the spotlight illuminating their movements. The cold breeze that slithered through the glass ceiling above them was no match for the warmth they radiated. Max's big hands held onto Lena's small ones as his heart thumped in time to the music. Sam Smith's gentle melody filled the air, and Lena's dress billowed around her. 

As her silk-like hair flipped with each twirl, he caught his breath. He hummed along, "They say that we're out of control and some say we're sinners, but don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms." As the tempo of the music intensified, they continued to move their bodies in perfect harmony. As he held her close, and Lena's frown slowly turned into a smile. 

The bergamot and jasmine scent was stronger than ever as she swept across his chest while twirling around. As they moved together, it was almost as if they were completely oblivious to anything else around them. Lena clung to his shoulders as the song went on "When you unfold me and tell me you love me and look in my eyes, you are perfection, my only direction. It's fire on fire."

When the song came to an end, Max whispered in her ear, "What's the point of living a story if you can't even write it yourself?" 

They stood together in a tender embrace, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.  Lena was surprised and embarrassed, but she hugged Max tightly and they walked back to their apartment together.