A Room With A View

Chapter Forty-Four - Phineas

November 18, Saturday

Phineas paced. The green room was uncomfortably hot and tiny, with damp, musty air. Phineas could barely make it three loping steps before needing to click his loafered heels and turn back around.

The green room was attached to a rundown theatre in the East Village that smelled of sweat and stale beer. Its too-bright decor was more befitting of an ancient house of vaudeville.

His eyes flicked to the ticking clock. There was one hour and thirty-two minutes until his first improv show.

Phineas rarely traveled so far downtown, and he never ventured into the East Village, so he had misjudged the time it would take for him to arrive. He hadn't taken the subway since he was a boy and had attempted to run away. But something told him he shouldn't call up his father's private town car to take him to the theatre. He'd kept it parked in the garage, but used it sparingly. The leather still carried the scent of his father's French cologne.

Although, Phineas had just recently hired Simon on as a part-time chauffeur, and Phineas rather liked the idea of asking Simon to drive him to Alphabet City. The area had a sordid history that Phineas found rather thrilling.

"Ineas!"

Phineas turned to find Shaina brushing past the black velvet curtain into the green room. His cheeks warmed instantly as he tried to hurriedly wipe all previous thoughts from his brain.

"I had a hunch you might be here embarrassingly early," Shaina said. She flung her coat onto the shabby couch pressed into the corner and threw her bag on top.

"I'm not 'embarrassingly' early," Phineas muttered, "I arrived precisely when I meant to."

Shaina beamed. It looked odd beneath her dark kohl eyes and thatched black hair. "Ah," she said, "I see our movie night last week left its impact." She leapt onto the couch, her feet splayed wide, and her face utterly serious.

"Son of Anton! Of Watley!" Shaina began, her arm thrust high as if holding onto an imaginary broadsword.

"My brother." She pointed the feigned sword at Phineas. He shuffled from one foot to the next, his hands firmly in his pockets.

Shaina continued. "I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of improvisers fail, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of crickets and silent applause when the age of improvisers comes crashing down, but it is not this day. This day we act! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Man of Helen's 101 level improv class!"

With that, Shaina mimed throwing her sword into the air. She jumped from the couch, and caught the sword.

"Crushed it," she said, winking at Phineas.

Phineas cleared his throat. Winks made him uncomfortable. They could be sarcastic or romantic, and there was never a clean way to respond to them.

"Now you don't have to be nervous. Because today is not this day! Well, it's not the day to be nervous. You're going to do great." Shaina cuffed him on the shoulder.

Phineas couldn't help but smile. He felt his nerves start to dissipate.

"I can't believe you hadn't seen Lord of the Rings before," Shaina said.

Phineas sniffed. "It simply wasn't on my radar." He looked at his watch. One hour and nineteen minutes to go.

There was a light tap on his shoulder. Phineas had to look down at Shaina, she was at least a head shorter than he.