I managed to get to my seat on time, nevertheless earning a glare from the maestro.
I was so angry with myself.
I didn't come here to "fall in love".
I didn't come here to get mixed up in any of that.
I was done with it.
And yet, I kissed a newsie just moments ago.
I felt so stupid, like a lovesick teenager again.
I wanted to get out of this. Maybe I could explain to him that I wasn't interested in any kind of romance.
But at the same time, I didn't want to tell him that, because half of me didn't believe it anymore.
The only thing that was for sure was that my assumptions had been correct:
I think I was in love with Sky Flaherty.
Was that so hard to do? Wasn't everyone 'in love' with an actor at some point or another?
But this time, it was different.
I'd told him that I'd never really felt romantic love before, and that was true.
I'd been in relationships before, and none of them had lasted.
I thought love was feeble and cliche, like the kind of mushy-gushy stuff you see in a Hallmark Movie.
That's not what I felt this time.
I felt kind of helplessly happy, but I also felt sure.
What the heck was I sure about?
I tried to focus on playing my instrument, reading the notes correctly, and not messing anybody else up.
I stayed in the pit during intermission, not wanting to face him yet.
I didn't want to talk to him with the limited time-frame of five to ten minutes.
So I wrote about him instead.
I don't know what I was writing, and I was probably feeding the Hallmark cliche, but the pen kept flying across the page.
By the time intermission had finished, I'd completed a mere three stanzas.
It wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me, but I promised myself the luxury of more time later.
'King of New York' was a sort of a break for me, with it's lack of violin parts, so I listened.
It began as usual with Ben's cheerful voice as 'Racetrack'.
I'd always hoped to skip out on orchestra someday, so that I could see the boys do their show.
Another promise to myself.
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard his voice, on his line.
"Nobbin' with all the muckity-mucks, I'm blowin' my dough and goin' deluxe,"
I scolded myself for letting him steal into my mind, and wished with all my life that 'King of New York' had violin parts in the score. If not that, then at least something else for me to focus on.
"Let's see what you got!" I heard his voice again, and couldn't help looking up.
See, my seat was on the outer rim of the small orchestra pit, and the edge of the stage was visible.
I caught a glimpse of him as he and Chaz Wolcott began their section with the wooden sticks.
I don't think I fully understood how much he loved dancing until then.
