Part One: I Have Friends (Reprise)

February 14, 2020

As Rebecca sings the last note of her song, drawing out the last syllable, her eyes drift shut for a moment, savoring it. When she opens them and lifts her hands from the keys, she's met with instant thunderous applause. Valencia and Heather holler words of encouragement. Paula wipes under her eyes, then cups her hands over her mouth to let out a resounding Wooo! The walls thrum. The room is alive with excitement.

The lump in Nathaniel's throat, which took shape as soon as Rebecca addressed him in the crowd - her first words to him since they parted ways exactly one year ago - was only exacerbated by her heartfelt performance. When she stands from the bench to accept her applause, her eyes fill with tears at the enthusiastic reaction and he feels the tightness spread to his chest.

The cheering continues as she scans the room and her eyes flicker to Nathaniel when he rises from his seat. Your first standing ovation he mouths to her and, though he doesn't know if she can make out his words in the darkness, she smiles back as if she does. Others join him and stand, and he muses that this certainly won't be her last - standing ovation, that is - if this room of proud, beaming faces is any indication. She's radiating pride in a way he's never seen before and suddenly all the pain and struggle in their past seems worth it - more than worth it - if it somehow lead to this moment.

The host of the open mic reappears on stage and he unsheathes the microphone from its stand, breaking the spell. "Uh…" he begins, surveying the crowd with his eyebrows crossed, as if he cannot fathom how such a mediocre, amateur performance is garnering such a reaction. He side steps Rebecca, gently nudging her to the side as he tries to regain control of the room.

"Wow, thanks for that, uh, stirring performance, Regina. We normally don't have singers give big speeches addressing each person in the room prior to their songs, but everyone seemed to like it a disproportionate amount so...good on you, I guess. Our next performer is -"

Rebecca steps down from the stage and her friends immediately surround her and whisk her away to the adjacent room for praise and congratulations. Nathaniel decides to hang back for the next act - a beat poem by a teenager dressed in all black - so he can get a handle on himself before officially greeting her.

He wasn't sure what he expected from the performance, or from his journey back to the living, breathing microcosm that is West Covina in general, but it certainly wasn't a complete upheaval of his emotions in under five minutes flat. The invitation to the open mic fell into his lap unexpectedly, by way of an off-hand comment from White Josh as they caught up over a beer the day prior. He debated his attendance, ping-ponging back and forth, the entire day as he sat through the negotiations of his return with Bert and his father. In the end, his curiosity won out and he's glad, now, that he was able to witness what turned out to be such a momentous occasion.

When he joins everyone in the back room, Rebecca's still in a huddled mass, basking in all the attention. Part of him wants to catch her eye, pull her away, steal a few moments for himself. But then he realizes it's an impulse from old, selfish Nathaniel, who would insert himself where he didn't belong, monopolize every second he could with her before she slipped through his fingers. Content with his decision, he heads for the door. His mind is clear and his heart is full, on its own, in a way it never was before.

But just as his fingers graze the grainy, painted wood, Rebecca's voice cuts through the din of the crowd, "Nathaniel! Wait!"

He turns and she's pushing through people to get to him, leaving her admirers back in her wake.

"Nathaniel, hi," she says, breathless. "You were going to leave without saying hello? I haven't seen you in...in…"

"...a year," he finishes for her.

"A year," she agrees, nodding.

"Sorry, it just looked like you were busy. I didn't want to intrude."

They stare at each other for a beat and he finds himself cataloguing every small change to her appearance since he's seen her last. Her hair is a little longer. She has another piercing in either ear. But all of it is inconsequential, completely overwhelmed by the way she glows, radiating happiness.

"You were great up there. Truly."

She waves her hand. "Stop. You don't have to say that. I know my voice sucks. My piano skills are subpar, at best. My friends are supportive probably to an unhealthy degree. Delusional, you might say."

"Maybe you don't have the best voice," he says and pauses, trying to choose the right words to express what he wants to say without sounding trite or indulgent, "but your lyrics were probably the most genuine and honest I've ever heard. And you know I don't humor people."

She smiles, touched, and seems lost for words.

"You really shined up there, Rebecca. This is your gift. I knew it as soon as you rewrote that stupid Ellison song. And now," he gestures around the room, "everyone else knows it too."

"Wow, thank you. That means a lot." She twists her fingers together and clears her throat. "So, how long are you here? I want to hear all about your new life at the zoo, which, by the way, is completely out-of-the-blue and I'm dying to know how it all came about."

"It's an animal sanctuary, actually -" he begins, but Greg appears from behind Rebecca and taps her on the shoulder before he can elaborate.

Rebecca instinctively spins around and Greg doesn't waste a second, tugging at her waist to pull her into a hug. Her arms stiffen for a moment and Nathaniel senses some reluctance, but he pushes the thought away, assuming it's another lingering remnant of old Nathaniel.

Greg says, "Hey, I told you you would be great, didn't I?" and locks eyes with Nathaniel over her shoulder. It's only for a fleeting second, but the message is crystal clear.

Nathaniel takes a step back and rubs the back of his neck, suddenly awkward in his own skin.

"Thanks for coming," she says as she pulls away.

"Nice to see you, Greg," Nathaniel says and offers his hand, since not addressing each other would make the interaction even more strained.

"Likewise," Greg says and grips his hand a bit more tight than necessary.

"Well, I should go," Nathaniel blurts out, "I have an early flight tomorrow."

"Oh no, I really do want to catch up with you," Rebecca says and grabs his forearm, pulling him closer.

"I'll be back in a few weeks, actually. For good."

"For good? Wait, really?!" Rebecca's eyes go wide in surprise and she looks to Greg whose expression doesn't change. "How didn't I know this? I thought you were off-the-grid forever."

"Not forever. The agreement was a year sabbatical. I came in for a few days to hammer out the transition details with Bert and my father."

Nathaniel doesn't miss the way Greg's jaw sets, the way his eyes zero in on Rebecca as he tries to catch every nuance of her reaction to the news.

"Stop by Rebetzel's on your first day. Item of your choice, on the house."

"I hope you're finally cashing in on my gluten-free pretzel idea."

"I am still so not," she says with a giggle.

He snaps his fingers. "Damn. Well, I'll stop by for a black coffee then. March second. Mark your calendar."

"Consider it marked," she says with a smirk, tapping at her temple.

He exhales, holds her gaze, squeezing out one last moment. His neck feels warm and the words come out in a jumble, "OK, take care. Both of you, of course. We'll, um, talk soon. Bye."

As he leaves the bar, he looks back over his shoulder - another impulse he wishes he could squash - and she's doing the same, her eyes following him, not listening to whatever Greg and Valencia are saying. She gives him a tiny wave and mouths Bye.