Lit: A Story

Chapter Twelve

"You know what to do."

Beep. Click.

"You know what to do."

Beep. Click.

"You know what to--"

I toss the phone to the bed. Fury is an understatement. I am beyond angry. Beyond rationality. I am tired, enraged, and scared.

Geoff isn't even giving me a second of his night.

I am not his shadow. I know they are having their night, but Geoff is not that typical overly-excited-to-bust-my-kidneys guy. He is not a drunkard, a drug addict, or a member of any fraternity. Geoff is Geoff; unique and special in his own way.

I fall back to my bed. I promise not to dwell in one's emotions; they are mere temptations to get you whacked and drowned to misery and tears. Life philosophy. I close my eyes, clearing my head of tonight's worries. No fights. No glares. Geoff is smiling in my head; it is all it took to win my heart.

The clock sounds. It is 12 o'clock. I wrap the blanket around me. I am scared of tomorrow.

I wish they could have rescheduled their boy's night.

---

Rehearsals start by nine.

The crew is on its knees, fixing and installing props. The cast are lying on their backs, probably sleeping on stage. I place my bag on the front row and jump onstage.

"Right on the dot," Pierre sees me. I smile a little. I am not in the mood to see someone connected to last night.

"Sleep is better than wasting my time for some nonsense activity." I explain.

"Relaxation is a must for better work quality." Another person answers. Ezra stands there, no trace of weakness in his face. He looks good; no, not good. He is handsome. Unbelievably and demonically handsome.

Ezra claps his hand. "All rise." The other cast members follow. I see no Geoff. Tasha sneaks through the velvet drapes.

I am about to walk briskly to her place when a hand stops me. "We'll be starting, my lady." Ezra's mouth is right atop my ear. Even with a mere millimeter or two to suffice, I can sense his want to graze his tongue in my skin.

I turn to the other side. Pierre looks at me, shocked. I almost raise my middle finger. Of all the fuckeries that I must go through after a disastrous night.

"Alright. Let's divide ourselves into groups. Just freely memorized or read the lines. Let's see what we can do." Ezra claps his hands again. "Now, scram!" They move away. He faces me. "As for you, young lady, you'll be rehearsing with me."

"I am very much aware of who I am paired with." I snap. "Since he's not yet around, I guess I'll use the time to unwind."

Ezra laughs. He flicks a lock of my hair. I shudder. "I co-direct this, love. I am the rule."

Pierre appears beside him. I catch his look, pleading and a bit scared. Pierre is never scared, except for Ezra. His master. His ally. His role model. What a nice choice for someone to look up to, Pierre. You are really screwed.

The three of us transfer in the middle of the stage. I fold my legs beneath me and look down. "Oh teh stars, how I envy them of their light! The beauty, oh the beauty of shining like diamonds!" I say.

Someone walks behind. Ezra. I brace myself. "You are more beautiful than the heavens, my lady. You're the epitome of them all." He places a hand on my shoulder. Our first real physical contact. I almost jump.

We face each other. I remember the last time we were this close, long ago. I smell his breath. I am bored by his stare. Once upon a time, Ezra enamored me. Now, he only disgusts me.

He closes the distance between us. One, two. I count. I stop to breath. I once longed for his kisses; now, I abhor them. One touch, and I will forever want to cut my lips off my face.

"I think the wrong prince is playing the role."

Geoff arrives.