Nothing is, but what is not // John Shelby

III

John hated theatre. And he was even more sure about this, watching the play without any understanding of it. His problem was not the story, it was quite simple, the meaning wasn't hard to get. His problem was the lack of compassion, he was also confused of how extremely emotional people can get, just by watching some dressed-up actors running around the stage. People in the audience were acting as if what they were watching was real. Was it all worth a night with a girl? Yes, she was pretty, but he wasn't sure if it was pretty enough.
John sighed with relief when the curtain covered the stage again. Standing up, he felt how his stiff muscles finally moved. It was a nice feeling. On the marble floor of the hallway there were many people. In the crowd you could still hear some whispers about the murder. About the man that John himself killed. He also noticed that there are definitely less people than there were a week ago. In his opinion, people cared about this event too much. It was as if they thought this single murder was worse than the war. As if they forgot about thousands of young boys killed in the trenches.
"John!" he heard his name being called from somewhere in the crowd. Beth tried to push through the people. It wasn't hard to notice her, she was surrounded by a sea of men in elegant suits and women in new dresses, while she wore a simple, slightly threadbare skirt and a shirt with a few coloured threads sticked to it.
"Beth" John smiled and nodded, when she finally got close enough.
"I need to take care of a few things. I hope that you don't mind?" her grey eyes showed that she was truly sorry for that "You can join me, of course" she added quickly. Jon agreed. Did he have any other choice? He followed the girl who was slipping nimbly between people. "Did you enjoy the play?" Beth asked, looking back at him, when the crowd wasn't so dense anymore.

"To be honest, I don't know what to think about it" he answered after a few seconds of trying to come up with a response that wouldn't reveal the fact of him almost falling asleep during the first act.
"People already called it a play of the decade, and you talk about it as if it was the most mere show you've seen in your lifetime" she chuckled "Let me guess, you're one of those people who think that Sheakspear was the beginning and the end of good plays?" Beth turned her head at him, but the only thing she saw were his slightly parted lips, which had no idea what to answer.
"You look as if it was the first time you've heard about all of this" she sounded amused , but his face remained the same, which made her realise that he was not joking.
"Well..." John smiled awkwardly "You can introduce me to... all of this" he wasn't sure what exactly happened. His plan was to take this girl to one of the dressing rooms, and to spend the night in the same way he spent a lot of different nights. Instead, he made her face brighten with excitement, when she realised that she just found someone who would listen to her talking about art. Art, the thing John never cared about.
"You have never seen Hamlet?" Beth's voice was full of disbelief. She opened the door at the end of the hallway, and they entered a small room where on the floor there were many rolls of different fabrics organised by colour. There was also a hanger with many costumes neatly hung on it. But the most important part of the room, and at the same time the only chaotic part of it, was a desk with a sewing machine on it. On the desk there were many buttons, needles, threads, scissors...
"Never" John shrugged, but the look that Beth gave him, made him think that maybe he should be embarrassed. It was actually quite amusing to see how seriously she took all of this. The girl started taking care of the mess around the sewing machine.
"Elizabeth!" The second door on the other side of the room opened suddenly, John hadn't noticed it before, and now some elegant man in his forties was looking through them into the room "Seams in Charlie's shirt ripped again!" Beth barely catched the shirt, when the man threw it at her.
"It is not my fault that-"
"Fix it. And do it well, we need it for tomorrow" he never gave her a chance to explain herself "And stop bringing men here. I am not going to tolerate prostitution under my theatre's roof" the door closed as quickly as it opened. John snickered.
"It was one time" Beth folded the shirt and put it into her bag.
"Are you a whore?" he wasn't sure why he asked that, but it was the first that came to his mind. The girl glared at him in a way that made him realise that it was not the best thing to say to a girl. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
"Artists are insane" she shrugged, as if it was supposed to answer his question "Also, it was one time" the girl repeated.
"I am not going to pay you"
"You have nothing to pay me for" Beth looked at him, satisfied when she noticed how John was trying to understand if she just told him that she was not interested. He cleared his throat.
"So... You are making costumes?" he decided to just change the topic when he still could. "Yes. Not all of them, but the majority" the girl explained, closing her bag and then looking at her reflection in the mirror to fix her hair "And i need to fix them if they're ripped"
"I see that you're not very good at that" he teased her.
"It is not my fault that Charlie's only food is chocolates" she sounded annoyed "He gained weight, so the shirt is ripping under his arms. But he is never going to admit that he needs a

new one" Beth sounded very serious, but when she met John's eyes in the mirror, they both laughed. It was not a serious problem at all.
"Come, it's time for you to get educated" Beth took the man's wrist and led him through the door. Behind them there was her small, beloved world.