"Let's take that from bar 57, see where I am? Great, ok." Ten singers sat in a crescent on the stage around the conductor and pianist. Some understudies were sitting in the audience, rifling feverishly through their scores and mouthing words and steadfastly following the conductor's baton. Beat, beat, beat, beat.
"L'amour! L'amour est enfant du Bohême-"
"Pst- Alex!" Alex snapped her gaze away from the conductor and turned to her understudy partner, Jasmine.
"What?"
"We don't need to be here, and I'm bored. Let's go hang out at the bar."
"Can't. Gotta be prepared. And I promised Rachel we'd hang after rehearsal," Alex whispered. Jasmine shrugged and carefully slid out of the row in which they were sitting. Alex sighed; well, at least she would be ready if she had to suddenly go onstage. As she turned back to the stage, Rachel caught her eye and winked. Alex grinned in response, and they both hurriedly buried their heads back in their scores. Alex was fiercely proud that Rachel had landed the lead soprano role, and Rachel was equally proud of Alex for her understudy role. In this business, you take what successes you can get.
"Je dis que rien ne m'épouvante. . ."Alex squealed silently in her head and clasped her hands together. She was biased, she knew, but Rachel's parts were her favorites. Man, this rehearsal was going by fast.
"Bien chanté, Micaëla!" Alex grinned and jokingly bumped Rachel with her hips. She laughed and replied, "Eh bien, merci, ma chère Mercèdés!"
"But you're really Micaëla. I'm like . . . Schrödinger's Mercèdés- I am her and I'm not, until real one either gets sick or doesn't during performance weekend."
"Ah, nerdery, you truly know the way to my heart." Wrapping their arms fondly around each others' shoulders, the two made their way toward the door.
"Hey Max, are you heading to the bar with everyone else? I mean, I don't even drink, but I could go for some wings or something," Rachel called over her shoulder.
"You guys go ahead; I think I lost my phone. See you in a bit."
"See you!"
Max frowned and put his hands on his hips. "Now where did I put you. . ." he murmured. He patted his pants pockets and coat pockets. Sighing, he jumped down from the stage and peered underneath the audience chairs.
Maarr. . .
Max jolted upright. He glanced around the theater, which was considerably dark with the houselights down. He shook his head and muttered, "Must be hearing things. Oh!" Max smacked his forehead, "The dressing room." While checking out his dressing room earlier, he'd been texting his girlfriend to let her know he'd arrived safely. He figured he'd absentmindedly put it on the makeup and wig counter.
"There you are! At this rate I might as well just end up going to the hotel to slee- YEESH!" Max staggered back. He could have sworn that just a second ago there had been a second face in the mirror. He took a few deep, shaky breaths and looked deep into the mirror. Shaking his head he sighed, "Yep. Definitely going back to the hotel." Max turned to leave- his eyes widened, the color drained from his face, and by the time he'd opened his mouth to scream, he could only gurgle through his own blood.
Mar. . .gur. . . ite. . .
