As my eyes opened, my back slowly lifting off the floor, I could feel the audience staring at me. I could almost hear their long intake of breath, holding the air in their lungs, waiting to see if this final act was a retelling of Romeo and Juliet or if this was our own spin—an ending that wasn’t going to result in my death.
It was a fair question.
Our director had certainly modernized the tale from the set design to the clothing. He’d made changes to the original script to keep the audience guessing.
I’d rehearsed this part hundreds of times onstage and in our apartment, even when I was at Ashe’s.
The setting was Romeo’s home, the floor of his bedroom, a bed behind me that we’d endlessly made love in. As I leaned up from the carpet, he was next to me, our arms still stretched toward each other, our fingers almost touching. From my position, the lack of movement in his chest told me he wasn’t breathing. I pulled myself closer, placing my cheek there, listening.
No sound.
No rise and fall.
When my ear went to his nose and then his mouth, there was no intake of breath.
“No!” Tears streamed down my face, and I tasted them on my lips when I shouted, “Nooo,” again. I pounded his chest with my fists, begging air to move through his lungs. Sobs came out in bursts, each quiver causing more gasps. “Please.” I lifted his head, holding his face in my arms, kissing each part of it. “Please.” I swallowed, the spit becoming too thick for my words to sound clear. “I need you.”
I’d practiced ways to make the lines sound authentic, to make the emotion appear real. But all I had to do was think of Ashe, the way it would feel if he were taken from me, and the tears naturally fell, the idea of him suddenly being gone from my life causing tremors to shake my entire body.
I curled into the crook of his arm, resting my face on the spot where I always cuddled Ashe—the home I had built on my boyfriend’s chest—and gripped his shirt in my palm. “No, Romeo!” I wailed. The sobs made my voice convulse, pain etched deep in my face. “I-I can’t l-live without y-you.”
I lifted his arm that was dead weight and draped it over my body. I needed the feel of him. The warmth. The sensation of still having him with me. “I d-don’t want t-to be in a-a world w-without you in it-t,” I whispered.
I glanced up his chest, the same way I always did to Ashe when we talked, and I pressed my lips to his.
One final taste.
One last good-bye.
“I love you.”
I pulled my mouth away, the feel of him still so present, and I went over to the table, where there was a small vial of medication—the same cocktail that had killed my Romeo. Using the syringe that had taken his life, I stuck the tip into the medicine and filled the chamber.
A ritual I’d seen Vanessa do when I was only a kid.
I pulled the tourniquet from Romeo’s arm, and holding the needle between my teeth, I tied it around the top of my bicep, tightening my fist. Tears dripped onto my arm as I pumped my fingers for a vein.
Now on the floor, my back resting against Romeo’s side, I stared up at the sky. My eyes closed, my heart opening. It was a moment, like the one I’d taken before I blew out the candles on my peanut butter birthday cake.
A silent wish.
And when my lids opened again, I guided the fake needle into the crook of my elbow. My arm dropped, my breath becoming shallower each second.
I fell against Romeo, my head resting on his chest.
My back arched as my heart tried to beat, my lungs attempting to fill.
When they couldn’t, the last bit of air exhaled out of me before my wheezing turned to quietness.
That only lasted a second before there was an eruption of applause from the audience.
The heavy red curtains closed. I pushed myself up from the stage, Romeo doing the same, and he quickly threw his arms around me.
“You fucking nailed it, Pearl.”
“You too,” I replied. “You were really incredible.”
We hurried off the stage, watching the curtains open again as members of the cast rushed to the front to take their bows. The order was based on role, Romeo and I the last to go. The entire audience was already giving a standing ovation by the time we arrived. With the lights slightly dimmed, there was no glare, and I was able to make out their faces. Just a few rows back was Gran. She was on her feet, clapping, Ashe and Dylan on each side of her.
Real tears were in my eyes.
I curtsied in the center of the stage, the clapping getting louder, and I blew my family a kiss.
Romeo, now facing me, used both arms to point in my direction, showing his admiration and respect, and the audience’s praise exploded even louder.
My heart was bursting, my hand pressed against it.
Thank you, I mouthed to him and then again to the audience before we joined hands and rushed backstage, celebrating with the crew and director.
Opening night had been a true success.
Once I grabbed my things and said good-bye to the cast, I hurried out the back door, where my family would be waiting.
Gran was sitting on the seat of her walker at the bottom of the stairs, Ashe and Dylan next to her.
“Oh, my dollface, you were spectacular.”
I flung my arms around her, and she pulled me close, the scent of her baby powder filling my nose.
“You were a sight to be seen up there, a real showcase. I couldn’t be prouder.”
Gran’s vision had been getting worse—a condition glasses couldn’t fix—and I wasn’t sure how much she could have actually seen from her seat. But my sound, the music—they were enough for her.
“Thank you, Gran.”
I kissed her cheek and moved on to Dylan, hugging him and thanking him before I buried myself against Ashe’s chest, where he held me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe.
But I didn’t want to.
I just wanted to get lost in his arms.
“Blown away,” he whispered against my neck. “Literally blown the fuck away by what you did up there.”
I clutched him back. “Thank you.”
“I couldn’t believe that was my girl on that stage.” He kissed my cheek, breathing against it. “You amaze me, Pearl.”
My eyes were threatening to tear up again, the smile on his face everything I needed to see as I pulled away. “I love you,” I said, looking at all three of them. “Thank you for being here.”
I hooked my hand through Gran’s, knowing the plan was to grab some dessert before taking her home, and I was just about to help her across the parking lot when I heard, “Excuse me, Miss Daniels?”
I halted at the sound of my name and turned around. The man standing behind Ashe was the one who had spoken it. He was dressed in an extremely impressive suit, a briefcase hanging from his shoulder.
“Yes?” I responded.
He held out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Brett Young, an agent and one of the owners of The Agency, the largest talent firm on the East Coast.”
I felt my eyes bulge as I put his face to his name—one that had been whispered throughout our department since the first day of my freshman year.
“I’m extremely impressed with what I saw on that stage. I’d heard you were phenomenal, but I wasn’t expecting a performance like the one you just delivered. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
I’d heard there would be a few agents in the audience tonight.
But I hadn’t heard Brett Young was going to be one of them. An agent every actor in the country would give up anything to sign with.
“Yes,” I replied quickly. “Of course I do.” I turned toward Ashe, trying not to freak out when I said, “I’ll be just a minute.”
“Not a problem,” he said, taking Gran’s hand from mine, smiling with so much encouragement. “We’ll wait for you over by the car.”
As they began to walk away, I faced Brett. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve been following you for a long time.” I realized how that sounded and corrected, “I don’t mean following, following.”
He laughed and moved us over to the side of the stairs. “I understand, Pearl, and the honor is mine.” He adjusted his jacket. “I normally send my team to some of the top-performing schools, looking for new talent, but everyone raved about you, so I had to come see you for myself.” He shook his head, the streetlights showing me how pleased he was. “You certainly made the trip worth it. Could you meet with me tomorrow morning? I’d like to talk about your goals and see if we can find a place for you in our company.”
I didn’t have to act.
I was positive the shock and emotion were covering my face.
This was the moment I’d been waiting for.
The moment where everything was going to change. The dream I had of making a better life for Gran, of getting her out of Boston, had the potential of coming true.
My lips parted, a breathlessness in my chest. “Just let me know where and when, and I’ll be there.”