holiday syndrome

6. the company

"put me through hell again"

gif: mads

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     MARLEY had spent years dreaming of sitting in the velvety seats of a theatre that held something she loved most in the world. Broadway musicals were something she had adored since her childhood, her aunt Mary forcing soundtracks on her like they were necessary to her health. Though she would trade her left arm to make her aunt stop singing along, she had always celebrated the beauty of the musicals. Seeing one on stage was an incredible experience.

     It had been her idea to see a show, finally deciding on seeing the last showing on Hedwig and the Angry Inch. It was a tale about the pain and sorrows of a person who lost their identity in Germany and found themselves in America just before the Berlin Wall came crashing down. It was a peculiar yet magnificent play that she couldn't help but stare at so intently she was sure the actors would feel the weight of her gaze.

     "Are you enjoying it?" Mads asked her hesitantly, perhaps seeing tears well up in her eyes as an intermission was called. She leads back in the chair, relaxing her back for a moment while she took in what she had just viewed.

     "What would you say if I quit my job and became a performer?" she remarked in a low tone, making it hard for Mads to tell whether or not she was serious. There was something about the pure intent in her expression that sat oddly within him.

     Marley was an odd puzzle that he struggled to understand.

     "I'd say that I would be worried about being broke as I'd have to attend every one of your shows," he answered with a slightly amused coating to his voice.

     Marley's eyes settled on his twitching smile and nodded thoughtfully. "Good, I'd expect you to be there. I'd be bloody talented and there would be too many strangers in the crowd."

     "Just like us right now?" Mads took a long drink out of his water bottle and let his fingers run along the surprisingly soft armrest.

     "Exactly. Complete strangers watching other strangers, sitting in the crowd with people they love, surrounded by people they don't. What an odd affair."

     "I like to think that the performers like having so many people show up to witness their creativity. Unless of course those people wind up criticizing them. Then I suppose it would become less captivating to have an audience and harder to bear."

     Marley felt as though she had an audience sometimes, constantly viewing how her life wound up. Sometimes she narrated her own thoughts out loud like someone was invested in listening. It was for the better that no one was, but she supposed she might feel less lonely if someone were to watch her live her life.

     "Do you think Maggie is okay?" Marley didn't know why she was asking Mads, as he knew her the least between the two of them. In fact, it was doubtful that he even knew the simplest of things like her middle name.

     "She's probably just napping. Though you and Mackenzie have explained what an adventurer she is, I'm more inclined to believe she is better at resting. She's only left your room twice."

     Maggie had stayed behind at the hotel room that Marley had felt trapped in that very morning. It was their third day in New York and Maggie had been better at sleeping than being a tourist. To each their own, Marley thought sarcastically. It had bothered her on the second day when Maggie had ditched their plans and left Marley to spend most of the afternoon with Mads.