Prompt 8

Nervous

"You can do this," she whispered, staring down her reflection, "You've made it through rehearsals, you can do this."

There were plenty of factors contributing to her nervousness right now; she had only just started her transition, she'd only performed in English once before (and that hadn't exactly been a great success), she didn't have her old friends anymore, Bill had written this role specifically for her. Ian was watching. Gabrielle closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath in, and exhaled. Of course she could do this. Bill would be right beside her, and he seemed pretty confident.

Right on cue, Bill appeared in the doorway.

"You have no idea how utterly terrified I am right now."

Her face fell. All she could manage was a weak "… Oh…?"

"I mean, I know that whole disaster last time was mostly Phil's fault," he hardly seemed to notice, and instead started pacing around the room, "But it was still my play. And you only get so many chances at a first play!"

When she didn't respond, he turned to her and frowned; she was staring into space, anxiously chewing her bottom lip and fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve.

"Are you alright?"

She blinked. Her head snapped round again, "What?"

"You look nervous."

There was a pause as Gabrielle hesitated, then nodded, "I am," she shrugged, "I suppose," and looked down at her hands, still toying anxiously with her sleeve, "A bit."

"But you were fine the first time, weren't you? And you've been amazing in rehearsals!"

"That was just rehearsals! And a lot has changed since the first play…"

Ah…

"Are you talking about you coming out…?" he asked, somewhat carefully.

She sighed and nodded again, "Among other things."

Bill seemed to forget about his own fears then. Or he decided his friend's troubles were more important. He closed the dressing room door and came to stand by the mirror with Gabrielle.

"OK, what's up?"

He patiently listened as she spilled the contents of her mind (though she did skip over one little detail), letting her vent until she had gotten everything out, then he thought for a moment.

"Right," he said eventually, "First off, your English is great. Nothing to worry about there. Second, and this might sound a bit harsh, but I don't think your old friends really deserve to take up so much of your attention. You're better off without them. I mean, they weren't very supportive, in more than one way."

"Hm…" He did have a point, she had to admit.

"Third, I'm sorry if I put any pressure on you writing this part, but you've nailed every rehearsal, I've seen how well you can pull it off. I've seen you handle mistakes," he gave her arm a reassuring pat, "You can't exactly disappoint me, y'know."

She couldn't help but crack a smile at that, "Thank you."

"And most importantly," he cast an exaggerated sweeping gaze around the otherwise empty room, then leaned just a little bit closer, "If anyone gives you any trouble, I can always…" he trailed off and Gabrielle cocked her head, curious. Before the following silence went on too long, he dropped his eyes to the floor awkwardly, "… Well, report it to Southampton, probably."

Gabrielle scoffed at the obvious performance and rolled her eyes affectionately, "Of course."

"I could absolutely take care of it myself but, you know, I do tend to… escalate drama rather than alleviate it."

"I suppose I can't argue with that."

Bill frowned, "Well, you could argue a little-" then she turned back to the mirror and he saw the look on her face she was trying to hide, "You're deflecting."

"What?" she didn't turn back.

"You're trying to wrap this up weirdly quick. What's wrong?"

"We have just discussed what was wrong, haven't we?"

"Gabs. There is clearly still something on your mind. You've solved the rest of it by talking, why not this?"

She went quiet for a moment.

"It's just that… there are certain people watching whose opinions I value very highly," she said, still facing the mirror, "I want to make a good impression…"

"Certain people…?"

"… A certain person…"

Bill quirked a curious eyebrow, "In the audience…?"

There was a slightly longer silence. Gabrielle bit her lip. Bill waited.

"No."

"… In the cast?"

"… No."

It only took a second or two before Bill's face lit up.

"I knew it. It's Ian, isn't it?"

Gabrielle stared at him, "How could you possibly guess that?"

"Like it wasn't obvious. You're basically obsessed with him."

"How so?"

"You can't stop smiling around him, you take every chance to talk to him, you always seem to find a way to bring him up in conversation…"

"Fine," she huffed, "But that doesn't make me any less nervous."

Bill just smiled and shook his head, "I don't think Ian's gonna judge you. If anything, he's usually been pretty impressed with your performances."

"You think so?"

"Definitely. Now, come on," he got up and went to open the door, "We've got a show to do, and it will go perfectly."

"Perfectly?"

Bill, already striding down the corridor, called back to her over his shoulder, "I won't accept anything less!"

Gabrielle sighed affectionately. Only Bill could be so blindly confident. Who's to say she couldn't do the same?

—

An hour and a half later, Gabrielle stood onstage beside Bill, along with the rest of the cast, after their final bows. The audience was on their feet, the applause ringing in her ears. As exhausted as she was, and as scared as she had been before the play, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so proud of herself, and so at home.

She couldn't believe the cheer she had gotten when she came out at the curtain call, and the moment the curtain fell, she turned and threw her arms around Bill. He just laughed and lifted her off the ground for a moment. When he put her back down, he leaned in close to her ear.

"I saw Ian watching you at the end there. I think he might have almost missed a cue."