Head Above Water

29. The Show Must Go On

I woke up to find myself lying on a couch in the back hallway. I recognized it as being the same one I’d seen in the prop alcove offstage a while back. Apparently they’d moved it out here to make room during the show. Convenient.

“Hey, how you feeling?” a quiet voice asked. I turned my head to see Connor sitting on the floor next to the couch. He was slouching heavily and his normally cocky expression was absent. He looked more serious than when I’d told him and Jillian about the tumor in the first place. Feeling a little scared at seeing him this way, I tried to lighten the mood. “Your face looks funny,” I joked. “I don’t think it’s used to making expressions other than cocky.”

After a moment Connor favored me with a smile, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “Oh yeah? Well your face always looks funny,” he shot back quietly.

“That’s more like it,” I smiled. “How much did I miss?

“Most of Act II. Malcolm asked me to stay with you since my part’s done anyway,” he joked. He was playing Lun Tha, Tuptim’s lover, and his character is killed early on in Act II. “He should be here soon. He’s been coming back to check—”

Just then the man himself rushed into the room, his golden eyes glimmering worriedly. When he saw that I was awake his concern diminished a fraction.

Connor gave my calf an affectionate squeeze as he stood up from the floor then left to give us some privacy.

Mal kneeled on the ground next to me and caressed my face. “Gem,” he breathed my name in an almost reverent tone. “How are you feeling?”

I shot him a little smile. “Better. I don’t seem to hurt anywhere,” I joked. “Did you catch me when I fell?”

“No, Connor did,” he said, seeming annoyed that he hadn’t been there.

“I’ll have to remember to thank him for that,” I mused. I began to sit up slowly and Mal placed a hand on my back as support.

“I have to go back out there for the last scene,” he said, sounding reluctant to do so. “Will you be okay?”

I nodded. “I’ll come with you. I want to be there for the curtain call.”

He helped me up from the couch absentmindedly, frowning. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“It isn’t exactly your decision,” I said, letting a slight edge creep into my tone.

“What if you fall again?” His worried expression quickly dissolved my anger.

“Please, Mal?” I queued the puppy-dog look. “This show is pretty much the last thing I’m gonna be able to do before…” I trailed off. I didn’t need to say it for him to understand.

He sighed. “Alright, but make sure you call out for me or Connor if you feel even the slightest bit faint, okay?”

“I will.”

Mollified for now, he took my hand and led me backstage. A flurry of activity was happening as everyone rushed to change costumes and sets for the final scene. After a pointed warning look at me, Mal headed out to take his place, laying on a platform that was dressed to look like a bed.

“Gemma, you should be resting backstage,” Mr. Lawler scolded as he came up next to me.

“I want to at least do the curtain call,” I said quietly.

He glanced at me pensively before nodding. “Sorry you weren’t able to do the whole show,” he said sympathetically.

I offered him a grateful but sad smile. “Me too.”