The next evening, Genevieve took a cab to the theater, knowing she was going to meet for
drinks at the jazz bar two blocks from the theater. She knew it well; she and some of her
castmates would head out there after a show because it was one of the few places that
served food after ten in the evening. If things got uncomfortable, she knew she could
always find a ride home.
"Hey Gen, you want to meet at Elvin's after the show?" One of the girls in the show
called out as she walked into the theater.
"I'm already going to be there." she called back. "I've been set up on another blind
date."
"My condolences. But hey, if it doesn't work out, guesture to me and I'll send Timothy
over to pretend he's your boyfriend."
Genevieve laughed. 'Timothy has a hard time convincing anyone he's a guy."
"I' heard that!" Timothy sung out as he flitted past the two women. "Be nice or I won't
let you borrow those shoes you've been eyeing."
Genevieve walked into her dressing room, blocking out the good natured arguing in the
hall. She sat down and looked at herself in the mirror; long blond hair, small face,
delicate features, two eyebrows; thank goodness for that one; fit body.
It was a ritual she did before every show. To reaffirm herself that she really had changed. that she had grown up like this and it wasn't all just a bad dream. She was Genevieve Bouliviar.
Sighing, she gathered up her hair and began to wrap it in a bun. Her dressing room door
opened and Meg, her assistant, walked in.
"Thirty minutes before showtime, Gin. You remember your lines?"
"Smart ass."
"Nope. Don't think that's in there."
She smiled at Meg and sat back so her assistant could do her magic.
The curtain rose and a hush fell over the audience. A single male sat foreword
expectantly, clutching his program in his hand, his eyes on the stage. Any minute now and
Annalyse would walk on stage. This was the fifth time he had seen this play and he never
grew tired of it. Or more specifically, the actress playing Annalyse. He still remembered
the first time he'd seen the stage actress. He'd been in New York doing a practicium at
Columbia for his Junior year when a friend of his suggested they see a Broadway play.
He had agreed and they two of them had ended up in Times Square watching a updated
off Broadway rendition of Hamlet.
That was where he had first seen Genevieve Boulivier.
She was playing a slightly modern version of Ophelia. He had fallen for her immediately. She
was beautiful, and poetic, and she had just a hint of toughness that reminded him of
something he couldn't place. He went back ten more times to watch her. Then he found
out she was in another play and he went to see that also. When he finally had to return to
Chicago, he kept track of her career . Last year, when he'd found out that she was
coming to Chicago for a year on stage, he couldn't believe it. He tried to take the hour's
drive up and back at least once a month just to see her on stage.
She stepped on stage and it was like time stopped for him. Every time she flirted with the
leading man on stage, his heart skipped; every time she winked at the audience, he smiled;
every time she flitted her hips and smiled seductively at the men on stage, he was
enraptured. The play was a stage play of the opera Carmen, and Genevieve played
Annalyse, the gypsy's role, perfectly.
Time flew, as he watched her, and it came down to the final act and the final kiss between Analyse and Donald. Every time he watched them, his heart broke. Every time, he wished briefly that he was Donald, up on stage, kissing her.
The curtain closed and he stood up along with everyone else, to applaud. He watched her
walk out one last time to take her final bow then it was over. Sighed heavily, he grabbed
his jacket and walked out of the theater. He was suppose to meet Gerald and Phoebe at a
jazz bar about two blocks away for this blind date Gerald had set him up on. He really
wasn't in the mood for a date, but agreed anyway. If it went to bad, he could always fake
a morning meeting and leave early.
drinks at the jazz bar two blocks from the theater. She knew it well; she and some of her
castmates would head out there after a show because it was one of the few places that
served food after ten in the evening. If things got uncomfortable, she knew she could
always find a ride home.
"Hey Gen, you want to meet at Elvin's after the show?" One of the girls in the show
called out as she walked into the theater.
"I'm already going to be there." she called back. "I've been set up on another blind
date."
"My condolences. But hey, if it doesn't work out, guesture to me and I'll send Timothy
over to pretend he's your boyfriend."
Genevieve laughed. 'Timothy has a hard time convincing anyone he's a guy."
"I' heard that!" Timothy sung out as he flitted past the two women. "Be nice or I won't
let you borrow those shoes you've been eyeing."
Genevieve walked into her dressing room, blocking out the good natured arguing in the
hall. She sat down and looked at herself in the mirror; long blond hair, small face,
delicate features, two eyebrows; thank goodness for that one; fit body.
It was a ritual she did before every show. To reaffirm herself that she really had changed. that she had grown up like this and it wasn't all just a bad dream. She was Genevieve Bouliviar.
Sighing, she gathered up her hair and began to wrap it in a bun. Her dressing room door
opened and Meg, her assistant, walked in.
"Thirty minutes before showtime, Gin. You remember your lines?"
"Smart ass."
"Nope. Don't think that's in there."
She smiled at Meg and sat back so her assistant could do her magic.
The curtain rose and a hush fell over the audience. A single male sat foreword
expectantly, clutching his program in his hand, his eyes on the stage. Any minute now and
Annalyse would walk on stage. This was the fifth time he had seen this play and he never
grew tired of it. Or more specifically, the actress playing Annalyse. He still remembered
the first time he'd seen the stage actress. He'd been in New York doing a practicium at
Columbia for his Junior year when a friend of his suggested they see a Broadway play.
He had agreed and they two of them had ended up in Times Square watching a updated
off Broadway rendition of Hamlet.
That was where he had first seen Genevieve Boulivier.
She was playing a slightly modern version of Ophelia. He had fallen for her immediately. She
was beautiful, and poetic, and she had just a hint of toughness that reminded him of
something he couldn't place. He went back ten more times to watch her. Then he found
out she was in another play and he went to see that also. When he finally had to return to
Chicago, he kept track of her career . Last year, when he'd found out that she was
coming to Chicago for a year on stage, he couldn't believe it. He tried to take the hour's
drive up and back at least once a month just to see her on stage.
She stepped on stage and it was like time stopped for him. Every time she flirted with the
leading man on stage, his heart skipped; every time she winked at the audience, he smiled;
every time she flitted her hips and smiled seductively at the men on stage, he was
enraptured. The play was a stage play of the opera Carmen, and Genevieve played
Annalyse, the gypsy's role, perfectly.
Time flew, as he watched her, and it came down to the final act and the final kiss between Analyse and Donald. Every time he watched them, his heart broke. Every time, he wished briefly that he was Donald, up on stage, kissing her.
The curtain closed and he stood up along with everyone else, to applaud. He watched her
walk out one last time to take her final bow then it was over. Sighed heavily, he grabbed
his jacket and walked out of the theater. He was suppose to meet Gerald and Phoebe at a
jazz bar about two blocks away for this blind date Gerald had set him up on. He really
wasn't in the mood for a date, but agreed anyway. If it went to bad, he could always fake
a morning meeting and leave early.