Thanks so very much for everyone's support, sorry it took so long.... :)

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Wesley: "That's what I do, you know. Write songs. Never thought I was any good at it until she came along. She was my muse. In her presence I was Shakespeare with a keyboard and a drum beat. Sometimes she played the tambourine. Sometimes she would sit in a corner and just listen while I played around with melodies. Sometimes, and these were the perfect moments... She would sing. God, this voice, this voice, it would keep you up at night thinking that you had to have heard it wrong, that there was nothing on earth that could be that glorious.

God, she was beautiful..."

--Ingrid's Funeral, Act I, Scene 3

Christian resisted his urge to burst into song until he'd reached his rusty blue Civic and started the engine. Duncan Sheik was singing on the radio, and Christian let loose as he pulled into the busy street.

"I'm on a high, on a high, there's nothing more to it," he sang, "I have the sun, it's a star, why should I refuse it!"

An elderly couple in the Cadillac next to him tried very hard not to look at the crazy young singer. Christian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, oblivious to the world. He had never been in love, but this was exactly what he'd imagined, a hundred times better, and a hundred times worse, all at once. The torturous hours between this morning and tonight seemed they'd last forever, and he'd only left her minutes ago.

He parked in the tiny lot adjacent to the theatre and walked around back. Despite his agony over leaving home this morning, it was difficult not to feel excited--no, thrilled, ecstatic, euphoric--over the day he was about to have. Christian Gilkey, playwright.... Ingrid's Funeral was going to be a smash, the director said so, the actors said so, the backer said so... Of course, the director was a relative, the star had yet to be found, and Christian had never actually met the benefactor who had generously refurbished the theatre and paid for the song rights. It must be because he believed in the production, right?

The young songwriter fought the butterflies rising in his stomach, squared his shoulders, and opened the door. Met with the familiar smell of sawdust and paint at the sight of the dusty scene shop, Christian was calmed straight away. This was right to him; it was very nearly like home. He'd always been here, on the stage, behind the curtains, in the audience, or any role that allowed him to simply be, breathing in a theatre's magical air.

Dr. Dan (Christian was fairly sure he was not actually a doctor, but this was what everyone had always called him) was staring up at the grid ceiling, no doubt planning something spectacular. The eccentric technical director preferred not to be interrupted in these brilliant musings, Christian knew, so the playwright snuck softly around him and walked out onto the stage. Even in an empty auditorium with the house lights up, Christian couldn't help but feel the accustomed flutter in his throat at the sight of the beautiful space. This play, yes, this one, this would be it. This would be his ticket. A smash, they said. Christian believed them with all his heart.

A few hours later Christian was not so sure of his success. They'd seen a dozen actresses in the space of an hour, and not one had struck gold. His title character, the beautiful, tragic, ethereal Ingrid, had to be someone special, someone no one else in the world could replicate.

"I still say we cast Renee," sniffed Erik Satie, the musical director. "She certainly has the voice."

"But she doesn't have that quality!" cried Christian, stretching out in the seat. They were out in the audience, waiting for the next auditioner to arrive. "I'll know her when I see her. She's out there, I promise."

"Christian, I may have to overrule you here," said Marie. Christian's grandmother may have been eighty years old, but when her grandson had asked her to direct his masterpiece, she'd made it clear that she'd be the boss. "She'd play well off Nathaniel."

"Is someone talking about me?" asked a voice behind them. "You know you love me Marie, why deny it?"

"Hush, Nathaniel," said Marie. "You're early."

Nathaniel Argentine plopped down in the row behind the crew and made himself comfortable. "I know," he said, closing his eyes. "I want to see who I'm going to be starring beside. Have you found her yet?"

"Not yet," replied Christian. "Would you read with the next girl?...Nathaniel? Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel, however, had fallen asleep. His soft snores were the only sound in the auditorium as the rest of them waited in silence for the next actress. Christian closed his own eyes, waiting. He heard the sound of footsteps, high heels, click across the stage, heard Marie addressing the auditioner, but he didn't even bother to look. He felt himself sinking into a terrible hole, a hole that no Ingrid would ever pull him out of. Had he been foolish to hope for such success when they couldn't even find their lead actress?

The first strains of "Live a Lie" by Default came over the loudspeakers again. This song would be Ingrid's crowning jewel, her theme, her shining moment when all else in the play had turned to Hell. "I can't seem to find out what I feel," sang the actress, "burned out dreams of others which I can steal. Take or leave this way I seem to you, it eats right through you..."

Christian's head slowly rose. Was it possible...was it...had they found their Ingrid? Had she been right under his nose all along?

"Ripped up parts of things I should do, I'll run 'round and tell you screaming..." Satine stood onstage, long red hair shining in the spotlight. Her eyes were closed, her voice near to bursting with the very passion that Ingrid would feel. "Oh I live a lie, oh I live a lie, oh why even try? I've been leaving thoughts below, still I feel I should know..."

She opened her eyes and saw Christian sitting there, which caught her voice for a moment. She quickly regained it and continued the song. "Still don't see much of me giving in, much too strong to live outside of these sins. Feeling like I'm taken lightly, think you see right through me. Words of those who still despise me, think it's eating me you're dreaming..."

Christian snuck a glance at those around him, and saw that they were just as rapt as he was. It was her, they had found her, the show would be spectacular if only they could have this Ingrid!

"When I seem to believe all that I've done wrong you can take all that's right I will still move on. Taken all I can give it seems that I don't belong, push me farther from this go on..."

Nathaniel awoke with a start, started to say something, but Christian hushed him. The playwright's head was filled with what this show would be, Nate and Satine playing the ill-fated lovers, the magnificent tapestry of music playing against a tragic passion...

"Oh I live a lie, oh I live a lie, oh why even try? I've been leaving thoughts below, still I feel I should know..."

The music faded, the magic was gone, and there stood Ingrid. "You're her," whispered Christian. "We have found our Ingrid!" he cried, leaping out of his seat. "Right in front of me the whole time! You're perfect, you know that? Perfect!"

"So some tell me," she said, winking. She seemed to remember suddenly that she was in front of people, and turned to Marie. "Thank you very much," she said, curtsying.

"My dear," said the director, "I should probably think about this more, but..."

The entire auditorium held their breath, and Marie smiled.

"You've got the job."

High above their heads, someone watched. The light booth was dark and seemingly abandoned, but from behind the glass someone watched. Techies wouldn't arrive for weeks, and sound and light were far from anyone's mind at the first rehearsal, but still, someone watched. He watched the girl dance across the stage with the other actors, he watched her red hair stream out behind her and her blue eyes twinkle with determination.

Someone watched, lusted, plotted.

He waited.

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