I look at Marissa’s hair hanging down as she’s bent over, and I feel everything turn to slow motion.
An ensemble girl going, “Whoa!”
Someone else saying, “I’ll get Lucy.”
Footsteps running away.
“Marissa?” I repeat. I should help her, but I feel trapped by what’s between us. Literally. “Are you okay?”
Still looking down, she leans one hand against the wall and presses the back of her other hand against her mouth. From behind her hand she says, “Obviously not.” She lifts her face and gives me a look that’s equal parts contempt and sadness. “Guess you get Piper to yourself now.”
Time speeds back up. Lucy squeezes past two ensemble guys hovering behind Marissa. She takes in the view and pulls her headset mic to her mouth. “Neeta? We have a problem.”
* * *
The lights come up again at the end of Act 2. None of us onstage move. Out in the third row, Drew is leaning forward, forearms resting on the seat in front of him. Camilla stands in the aisle beside him, hands in a praying position under her chin.
“Well,” Drew says, pivoting in his seat to face Camilla. “That went surprisingly well.”
“Nothing like a little trauma to focus a cast,” Camilla answers.
They come to the stage, clapping, and everyone around me whoops and claps with relief. I make the effort to act happy too. I am glad we did a good job. But I worry that everyone’s looking at me differently.
The scene with Marissa outside the bathroom plays on a sickening loop inside my head. Sickening not because of what she did but because of the truth she told.
I was desperate. For a role. For attention. For center stage. And that was more obvious than any talent I may have thought I had.
Camilla hugs one of the younger girls. She took over the ensemble part Marissa and I do when we’re not Piper. “You were stellar, Darci! You fit right in to the choreography, and you got those couple of lines. Very professional. Did you happen to memorize Act 1 as well?”
“Totally,” Darci says, beaming up at Camilla like a bloom facing the sun. “I just paid attention at every rehearsal.”
Camilla turns to Drew. “Problem solved. If Marissa’s still sick tomorrow—”
“Has anyone checked in with her?” I burst out. “Since her mom came to get her?”
That turns down the volume on the general congratulations-all-around party.
“Good point, Ellie. We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves,” Drew says. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Neeta said she’d call Marissa’s mom as soon as we’re done here. By the way, you did a great job stepping in as Piper with no notice. Especially after…” He pauses, pushing his glasses up his nose.
After the barf? After being revealed as a desperate attention hog?
“Thanks” is all I say.
Gregor gives a “Brava!” from across the stage, and Rachel, Shantel and a few other people clap.
But I’m relieved when Drew deflects the attention with “Okay, all, let’s go sit. Camilla and I have a few final notes before tomorrow. Opening night, people!”
* * *
A little while later, Gregor and I wait together outside the theater for Shantel and Rachel so we can all walk to the subway. It’s a cool, clear night with no wind, and the fresh air feels good after the stuffy dressing room.
“So it’s good Marissa had food poisoning,” Gregor says.
“Are you kidding?”
“I mean, good it wasn’t some nasty bug that would have wiped her right out of the show. Bad, of course, that her fancy restaurant breakfast sausages were past their best-before date.”
We had gotten these gritty details from Neeta at the end of notes from Drew. Including the fact that Renée had only had cottage cheese and fruit for her breakfast and so was fine. And that Marissa “guaranteed” Neeta she’d also be fine and ready to play Piper on opening night.
“It must have been the bad sausage talking when Marissa said those things to you today,” Gregor says. “I’m sure she’ll apologize when she sees you.”
I’m not so sure. Do people apologize for being right?
We’re quiet for a bit. We watch an orange cat trot across the empty street to scout out a garbage bin behind a building.
“Gregor, why did you decide to help me at my audition?” I ask without looking at him.
He shifts from foot to foot, keeping warm. “Because you looked like Snow White, remember?” He gives a little laugh.
“That’s not a real reason.” I shove my hands deep in my jacket pockets.
“Really?” He sighs. “Because you looked so lonely.” His voice is simple, not a hint of funny, dramatic flourish to it.
I flash back to September, me sitting on that hard bench with my one song, Marissa and her binder of songs throwing serious shade my way. I didn’t know a soul in this city. Loneliness must have been wafting off me in waves. Then I met Gregor. My eyes start to sting with tears.
Gregor, as if he senses that, tucks his hand in the crook of my arm. The same way he did when he first led me into the theater.
“It hit me right here,” he says as he flattens his hand over his heart. “And I thought to myself”—now he swings out to face me, taking my hands in his in a cliché musical-theater move—“Gregor, this girl needs you!”
I have to laugh. He laughs too and lets go of my hands. I quickly wipe at my tears.
“Thank goodness you could actually sing.” He bumps up against me, arm to arm. “I don’t know what I would have done if you were crappy. Kicked you to the curb, I guess. Scram, sister!”
The orange cat scurries down the block. We laugh again.
Voices come from behind the backstage door.
“Finally,” says Gregor. “Was someone offering free manicures in there or something?”
One more thought hits me. “Wait. So I’m here because of your pity?”
“Omigod, now who’s being the dramatic one? Nobody gets cast in musical theater because of pity.” He looks me straight in the eye. “Seriously. You’re talented, Ellie. You belong here.”
Shantel, Rachel, Brayden and Claire pile out of the theater, and we start off for the subway. Gregor shouts, “Well, my lovelies, shall we sing?”
“No!” we all answer.
The moment makes me think of Drew explaining the basis of musical theater. How characters need to sing when talking isn’t enough, how they need to dance when singing isn’t enough. I could sing and dance how wonderful it feels to be with Gregor and everyone right now. But in real life, after everything Marissa said to me, just being with them is enough.