Do you have your tickets? Thank you. Here are your seats.
Enjoy the show.
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Rose was dreaming. She was alone, sitting on a stage in an empty field. Green pastures stretched out beyond her. A smudge in the sky indicated some sort of industry in the distance. She got up, walked over to the wings and found herself inside the TARDIS. Xander was there, smiling at her, but didn't speak when she talked to him. She asked him again and again where the Doctor was, but he sat silent. She ran out the door, into a forest, hearing strange cries and soon finding herself beneath a wooden balcony. The Doctor was standing on it above her, calling her name.
The dream was fading; she was coming back to reality. As she opened her eyes she found the Doctor really was calling her. He was sitting next to her on the edge of her bed, one had gently on her shoulder, waking her.
"Rose?"
She murmured in response, blinking the last of the dream away as the Doctor smiled down at her. "You had better get up – it's time we were at the theatre."
She sat up, wiping her eyes. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Oh, about three, four hours. Feel better for it?"
"Definitely."
Ten minutes later, they were walking towards the theatre. Rose had butterflies in her stomach, but they were coupled by an excitement too. She felt like a little kid.
The theatre was buzzing with conversation and busy cast and crew, making sure every little thing was ready. The stress seemed to have been left behind and exhilaration and anticipation had taken its place, even for Cassius, who was beaming at everyone and involving himself in everything at once.
Rose found she was smiling too, even as she was whisked away by Marie and some of the make-up girls towards the make-up rooms. Marie had her ball gown with her already, and as Rose changed into it she realised that she felt relaxed and ready to perform. Something about the atmosphere in the theatre relaxed her and now she felt light as air with excitement.
Rose didn't know how much time everything took. All she knew was that soon her hair was being sprayed and pinned in place, and them her make up was applied and finished. According to Marie, they had about twenty more minutes and the best thing to do was relax and wait. Rose decided to take the advice, returning to her place on the small balcony staircase. It was quiet here, as the backstage area was a no talking zone, and so many were staying in the backstage and dressing rooms where the rule didn't apply.
Rose sat, head resting on her hand, and stared into the darkness beyond her. They were almost ready to begin, how strange. It didn't feel like her and the Doctor had been here for ten days, but here was the proof. She supposed that the days spent rehearsing had run into one another, and that was a reason for it.
She watched back stagers walking past – the young guy and woman of the technical crew passed a few times, carrying light bulbs and wires. Many others held the props for the play – swords, goblets, and the few things that characters brought on with them. There weren't many in Romeo and Juliet, so it made it easier to equip.
"I never thought I'd get left alone. What's wrong with my hair, anyway? It doesn't need hair spray, or gel or anything else."
Rose grinned as the Doctor appeared out of the shadows near her. "Why did I know I'd find you here, Rose?"
"You tell me."
He sat down on the step below her. "They finally left you alone too, then?"
"Nah, I'm hiding. I'm going to walk on with no make-up or costume and improvise the whole thing, Doctor, you know me."
"Now, now, don't get rude. I thought I was the rude one."
There was a call from the theatre itself. "Ten minutes, players! The doors are opening, our audience arriving. No one is to be front of curtain in costume before the play begins! Good luck to you all, I'll see you at interval." There was a scattering of applause as Cassius finished speaking.
The Doctor looked up at Rose. He stood, putting out his hand to help her up (sitting to standing in a ball skirt, even one as straight cut and narrow as this one, required either help or impressive skill, in Rose's opinion), and the two of them made their was side stage, peeking out of the edge of the curtain; along with half the cast.
"There's the Duke," whispered the Doctor. Sure enough, the Duke had just swept in, wearing black robes decorated in white lilies. He was seated on a great throne-like chair in the middle level of seating, directly in the middle. The best seat in the theatre.
Rose stepped back from the curtain, heading towards the mess of backstage. There was a place here, a main room where the actors waited and relaxed; a green room of sorts. It was more an area than a room, but it still suited the purpose of waiting area.
There was also a sink and bench near, as well as the props table on the opposite side, closer to the stage.
She picked her way carefully across the floor, scattered with rope and pieces of old set, as she heard the audience quieten and the prologue begin. This was it – it was really happening. Rose listened from where she was to the conversation of Gregory and Sampson, soon joined by Tybalt and others of the Capulet household.
"My cue cometh," said the Doctor, who was next to her. He looked sideways at her. "Time to be Romeo."
"Good luck." Rose whispered, kissing him quickly on the cheek.
He turned to her, smiling. "You too." Then he did something Rose wasn't prepared for. He kissed her softly on the mouth, properly – no play pretext, no Cassandra, no time vortex. It was pure choice and action on his behalf, and Rose couldn't be happier, as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, there, in the dark backstage of a alien theatre.
"What was that for?" she asked softly when they parted.
"Just what you said when we met the Duke. I've been thinking about it. And how I lied about something in my reply – you're not my best friend, travelling companion or lifesaver – you're so much more than that, Rose."
She couldn't help smiling at that. "So you did mean it?"
"I take it you're referring to that rehearsal of the balcony scene. Of course I did. And you?"
"During your speech? Every word."
Rose felt like she could stay here forever, her arms around his neck, and his arms around her waist. But he was needed onstage - and if he didn't go, the they really would be here, on this planet, forever.
He slipped out of her arms and walked to the edge of the stage, walking on as his cue appeared. Rose watched him go, smiling and feeling lighter than air. This play would be simple. There was nothing better to portray love than love itself. Let the Duke witness this, then!
She watched the scene, watched her Romeo perform better than ever. A little while later, as the scene between Romeo and Benvolio drew to a close, she was waiting for him, putting her arms around him as he came off, whispering to him, "That was great!"
He nodded in reply as Paris and Lord Capulet made their way onstage. Rose realised that she didn't have much time until she herself had to walk onstage, and just as she thought about it, the Nurse appeared with lady Capulet to find her –they walked on from the other side of the stage, and had to go over their now. Rose walked away with them behind the set, and found when she got to the other side she could see the Doctor smiling at her. It was a comfort.
Half listening and half in her own world, Rose watched his next scene, shaking herself out of it, as she was about to go on. This was it – she would do it right and do it well. Her butterflies reappeared momentarily, but as she stepped onstage, she found that they had been left behind in the wings and she was fine, her words coming from her like a second nature.
The scene passed in a flash, and soon Rose was back offstage as the Doctor walked back on. Faster than Rose would have liked, the Capulet Ball arrived and she had to walk onstage and meet the arrogant Paris. At least he didn't mess up the dance. Rose pretended to find him interesting (although she still wanted to hit him) and carefully listened for Romeo. She had stopped jumping, but only by her senses forewarning her a moment before he spoke.
There was something elating about kissing the man (or alien) you loved before an audience and showing them all how happy it made you, and how good you were at acting in 'love'. Not that acting was needed.
Rose still loved doing the balcony scene with its sweet words and romantic purpose, and so, as she walked forward onto the balcony, she let a smile grace her features as she began. The scene itself went without a hitch, and Rose found it easy to tell 'Romeo' how she loved him and give him a faithful vow, seeing the same sincerity and love in his eyes which had been there all along – but now she knew there was nothing false about it.
As she got up from the floor of the balcony, where she had been bent to reach her Romeo's hand, she wished the scene could go on. But it had to end, and so she bade Romeo a good night and watched as he smiled at her, lips moving soundlessly as they had on that very first run through. There was no need to banish any disillusionment from her mind, she knew that he meant it.
For the next twenty minutes, Rose sat around doing nothing – she had two scenes to sit through before her next appearance, and so sat (after switching costumes, into her blue dress) with a smile on her face and her eyes unseeing what was around her.
There was a moment of hurried preparation after she got off stage the next time, but Marie had sorted it. She needed a quick costume change from the blue dress to her wedding one, and so she met Marie who switched them over in lightning time. She done this before, obviously and told Rose she was doing well before racing off to help with something else.
Another scene, another kiss, another chance to stand with her Romeo. After that, it was time for a break as the second act came to a close. After another costume change for Rose – this time into the evening dress, she found the Doctor and they laughed about how well it was going. Cassius appeared to congratulate everyone on their performances thus far, and to keep it up. Another few minutes of relaxation in the green room, and it was back to the stage.
Rose was heading back towards opposite side of the stage when she slipped on the floor (her slipper-like shoes didn't give much grip) and her hip hit the props table. Biting back a yelp of pain, Rose bent to pick up the bottle she had knocked off, rolling her eyes as she saw it was empty and their was a wet patch on the floor below. She filled it from the tap nearby, cursing her clumsiness. Trust her to be the one to break something. Finally getting to the wings, she watched the scene going on beyond.
This was where the story started to fall apart. The audience was receptive – gasping during the fights – the rest of the cast could hear them out the back. Mercutio's death (and his immortal line, a plague on both your houses!) came and Tybalt's demise followed, then Romeo's banishment. This meant it was now time for Rose's monologue. She didn't mind it, but she liked the pre-poison one better.
Two scenes later, Rose came off the stage crying from the yelling of her 'father'. Lord Capulet had been making her cry during the scene for days, and this was not different – if anything, it was more intense. She came off, straight into the Doctor's arms as Marie brought over another costume for her to change into. The Doctor gave her hand a quick squeeze, and then she was back onstage (unfortunately with Paris).
This scene gave her a fun line (be not so long to speak I long to die!) and afterwards there was another scene for her to do, making amends with Capulet, and then another quick change, back in the evening gown, and her final big monologue.
She hoped that she did it justice. As the words slipped from her, she remembered everything that had been said to her about it and the way Cassius had directed her. She took her time, allowed her emotions to build and the tension to rise, painted the picture for the audience watching her. Finally, it was drawing to a close, and she raided the little bottle given to her a scene or two previously by the Friar, and collapsed onto the bed. As the audience applauded, she couldn't help thinking, that it was all for her.
She got to lie on the bed for the rest of the play, most things concerning her, and other scenes cleverly stages so it seemed they were somewhere else entirely.
As she listened to them fight, Rose envied the fact that the Doctor got to 'kill' Paris. Damn him – she'd wanted to right through. She heard him fall, and had to compose herself not to smile as he did so.
As the Doctor made his way through Romeo's last monologue, complete with all beauty, emotion and tears, Rose marvelled at how fast the play had gone. He fell next to her, his hand on hers, and Rose waited for her next cue, which came from Friar Laurence. It was spoken – she woke.
When he left to investigate a 'noise', Rose turned to look at the figure beside her. Her heart leapt as she did so, for he really looked dead. Unmoving, his features impassive, she could really trick himself into thinking it – and, amazingly, she began to cry. Part of her was numb, the other part was joyous that she had managed to pull it off.
As she reached for the bottle, she noticed that it was the one she had knocked off the props table. What a coincidence. Hopefully no one had noticed the small chip on the edge that hadn't been there before. She kissed him softly, before hearing the noise of the watch – her death was upon her.
Rose snatched up Romeo's dagger, ready to 'strike' herself with it. Cassius' words from a few days ago were in her head: 'Do it hard and fast so it looks real! Make the audience believe!' Glancing sadly back at her 'dead' Romeo one last time, she did as she had been instructed.
And gasped in horror and pain as the sharp blade slid into her.
Blood, warm and deep red, was starting to flow down her dress. She fell back onto the bed, crying weakly for help.
"Doctor…help…it's real…"
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Yeah, I know quite a few people worked that out. But oh well – hope it was good anyway!