When He Sees Me | Logicality

6. Duties of the Stage Manager

Logan was at evening rehearsal, right on time, despite the trials of the day. Even though he felt like a reheated chimichanga, he wouldn't leave his backstage crew hanging. They needed a good leader who knew what needed to be done.

Not to mention the fact that his replacement was Virgil, and Logan would never give him the satisfaction.

He was pleased, though, when he realized halfway through the second run-through of "Fight For Me" that JD looked even rougher around the edges than usual. Serves the bastard right, dragging Logan away from his work.

Even though it had been the most fun he'd had in a really long time.

How long had it been since he'd gone out like that? He started to wonder. Personally, Logan hadn't noticed anything drastic, but now that he was going over recent events, the only places he ever really went were to the university, the theatre, and a few stores to get essentials. He had to roll back the film of his life several months before he landed on an outing: Virgil's twenty-eighth birthday party, and also his six-month anniversary with Roman.

Damn. He needed to get out there.

"Logan! What the fuck?" The tinned words cut into Logan's fogged-up brain, electrocuting him into alertness.

"What?" he whispered harshly, part worried, part annoyed at Virgil for interrupting him mid-thought. Without being prompted, he started scrolling through the endless list of possibilies, scanning around the room for context clues.

A sigh, then Virgil said, "Stop thinking. It's not good for you. Besides, after this, we're breaking. Oh, and you need to stop by costumes and tell them to get their shit together-- Valerie still doesn't have the right blazer outfit. She looks like freaking Don Cherry. And make sure makeup has a shitton of supplies for the dress rehearsal on Saturday. Got that?"

Logan couldn't believe it. He was stage manager, not an intern. And yet the director had him running around doing petty errands during break times. Fucking ridiculous.

Although he wouldn't trust any intern to any of the jobs Virgil had just listed, so maybe he should stop being bitter. It was his job, after all.

Even so, he couldn't resist a biting remark.

"Fuck off, Virgil."

"Love you too."

Swearing through clenched teeth, Logan switched off his mic and stomped over to costumes.

--

"Terrence, I'm really sorry that you've had so much difficulty with Valerie's costume this go-round, but she needs it for the dress rehearsal on Saturday."

The head of the costume department sighed audibly, beginning to clear the work space. "I guess it's time for another attempt," he said, his exhaustion bleeding into his words, extinguishing his usual pep. "I'll get Talyn in here and see what she has to say about the design."

Exhaling, Logan visibly relaxed. "Thank God. Terrence, you're a lifesaver."

"Don't you forget it," the other man quipped back, already buried into his work. As Logan climbed the stairs out of the basement towards makeup, he heard Terrence call for his spunky assistant.

--

Once the makeup stocks were inspected and declared sufficient, Logan could finally sort-of relax. The production was nearing opening night, so the lion's share of the work was done. All that remained was to make sure everything ran smoothly during performances. Based on the rehearsals, Logan was confident in his crew and the actors.

Although, the dress rehearsal would be the kicker. If that wasn't up to snuff, they'd have to throw everything into high gear to get everything perfect.

And if that happened, everything else in his life would get thrown around and messed around with, sending him into a spiral of stress that no one in the theatre needed.

So this thing had better go well, otherwise Logan was fucking screwed.