Deadly Devotion

II

The alarm clock blared in an obscure buzz that seemed to work it's way into Grace's unsettling slumber. Her body was sore, muscles groaning in protest as she began to shift her weight around on the small futon.

The man at the mattress store had promised that the price was worth the product. After all, Grace only had to stay in this tiny apartment for a year tops. She decided that a bed that doubled as a couch was better than buying them separately. But now she regretted the decision.

She grumbled, moving her hand across the slick plastic of the clock as it continued to shout at her. She couldn't find the little button, the noise growing louder by the second. She shoved it off the edge of the night stand, getting aggravated as the object clattered to the floor, stopping the hum of an alarm that she had set herself.

Grace begrudgingly pulled herself from the warm cocoon of blankets that she had attempted to use as cushioning against the rough springs of the mattress. It was already five. She had spent about an hour trying to catch up on sleep after her last class of the day.

Sleep didn't come easy, though. She tossed and turned, only getting fifteen minutes of rest before her clock blared. She had to get to work. Something that she wasn't quite fond of, but it seemed to be a necessary part of her day.

Grace had always wanted to be an actress. She attended classes for the profession, and even started looking into internships in her spare time- but the only one she had found was at the PIT. The peoples improv theater. It was every aspiring actors dream job. To be on that stage with a group of people just trying to make the audience laugh.

She longed to feel the slight burn of the stage lights, hear the roar of laughter after an on the whim joke, hell- she even wanted to attend the practices that the actors dreaded so much. She needed all of this in her life. But instead of reading from a script, she got stuck with lifting sandbags.

Well, not all the time. The position at the PIT left her with the odds and ends of the backstage crew. Most of the other people were college students doing the exact same thing she was. Wishing they were somewhere better.

Grace eventually struggled into a pair of jeans and the black crew shirt that needed so desperately to be washed. But she hadn't gotten the time to stop at the laundromat. Instead, Grace slathered on some off brand lotion and prayed that her deodorant would cover up the scent of a hard day's work.

She slid on a just as dirty jacket and stepped into the frigid New York air. It bit at the back of her throat, but finally woke her up enough to speed up her walking pace. In no time at all, she had gone the ten blocks that it took to get the the PIT.

Like always, the sun had began to set, making the yellowed sign cast a pale glow on the sidewalk, marking the way too familiar patch of black ice that she had fallen over more than once.

The door was unlocked, allowing her easy enough entry. Warmth was quick to find a way back into her rosy cheeks, her hand reaching towards the side door of the theater. It lead to the red encrusted steps that she needed to get down.

The theater was a bit small in itself. A small light control box stood to her left, a box that only she had the key to. In front of her was an aisle complete with steps that lead down to the ground floor in front of the stage. It reminded Grace on an old movie theater, something that it probably once was.

Her boss, Cooper, was on the edge of the stage, talking something over with one of the technicians. He raised his brows at Grace, knowing that she was later than she should be. Regardless, Cooper didn't say anything. He never did. Grace was good at her job, so there was no need to get upset over a few minutes of lost time.