Chapter Three - Reheasrsals

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The first two weeks have been spent memorizing lines. We didn't practice songs together or with music except on our own accord for the first week. The second week, they focused on singing with the music, and now the third week, we're trying to sing songs with each other and running lines. We've also taken to addressing everyone by their character names. The managers seem to think it'll help somehow. My friends from home who've done acting said most theaters don't do it though. It makes me wonder why they're so set on requiring it here.

I haven't spoken to Ethan in any way other than to sing with him and run the occasional spoken line. We haven't done much of either one yet. He doesn't act like he recognizes me in the slightest. I'll learn to deal with it though. I gave up a long time ago. No reason to have hope for  us now.

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"Cut! Cut!" The director pauses to pinch the bridge of his nose. After a hefty sigh he turns to address the stage again. "Cut!" I watch as he continues on with a series of distressed wordless hand motions and comical arm waving. We've had quite a rocky attempt at masquerade for the past two hours, and his stress is felt throughout the whole cast. "It's all wrong!! You're all likely just tired. Go ahead and break for lunch."

I hurry to my dressing room, hoping for a quick get away. Braden hasn't stopped talking to me since day one of rehearsal. What Ethan lacks in recognition, unfortunately, Braden more than makes up for. I hear the sound of shuffling feet behind me. They're likely just around the corner.
Crap!! Can't I just have a quiet lunch out by myself without being bothered?! I shouldn't have to be racing to my dressing room for protection against a brat whose maturity hasn't aged a day since high school!!!

"Christine!" I freeze as he calls my name. My name? That's not my name. Ugh! Now I'm merging my real life and my fake life into one big nightmarish blurr. I can't pretend I didn't hear; I already stopped in my tracks! Idiot!! Spinning around in pure frustration, not only from my situation but also from my own stupidity, I find myself frozen again.

"Yes?" I say hardly above a whisper. Why am I being so stupid?

He steps up to me with the grace of an assassin. He's about a foot taller than me now. Goodness he's grown!

He spits out a very calm and controlled, "Hi!". Then it's my turn to figure out what to say next! Well he seems quite unfazed! No, "Hey Summer! Sorry for dissing you in middle school even though I was perfectly capable of being in your life and just fell off the radar for no good reason! Sorry I broke your heart over and over by posting all about how much I love my girlfriend that I've been dating for a week totally ignoring the fact you exist!" No... none of that. Instead I get a "Hi!" and am expected to test the waters on my own, blindfolded, and without so much as a hint of his intention.

"Hi." I reply, only slightly more short than I'd originally intended to be.

"It's nice to see to you again, Summer, er... I mean, Christine."

"And you, Phantom, Angel of Music? What shall I call you, oh man of mystery?" I responded coldly.
He looked down at me for a long time. My dear old friend.

"PHANTOM!!! Or, Ethan, whatever they call you! YOU'RE NEEDED FOR A RUN THROUGH OF NOTES BEFORE BREAK!!!" The director's voice rang out over the theater.

"My dear old friend, it's becoming clear old friend, someone's overlooked, he's the leading act..." I sing to him switching the words to match the situation.

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