The Show Must Go On Part VI

After all the excitement of summer, life began to get back to normal for all of them. For the youngest, college was looming on the horizon, and for the eldest, the world of work was about to take them in to its rhythms. For them, the last few days of freedom had arrived; they would nor experience another long summer like the one they had just enjoyed again until they retired from the labour force in many decades time. Having had a long and successful visit, and having taken advantage of all that the city had to offer, Leo had headed back to Kansas with a whole new circle of friends in the city, and a promise that he would be welcome to come back at anytime. He was not looking forward to the long bus journey home, but it was worth it. Now he would just need to save up for a plane ticket for the next time he came…

His cousin on his way home, Flint found himself looking for suits for work. He had only ever possessed two in his life before, but Izzy had suggested that he should buy a couple more, just for day to day wear at the office. She had taken the morning off and had come with him, and he left the store with three in the end as there was a sale; one of them was a good, winter weight one, ideal for the harsh days of a typical New York winter. Suits were not such a big issue for Beats; the dress code for him was smart casual, but in the end, he went out and bought a new one, guessing that he didn't always have to wear the whole thing to work.

They would both clock in for the first time on a Monday morning; Ethan however was heading in on the Friday morning for what they termed a shadowing day. He was quite apprehensive about the whole thing; after all, the sums of money that he would theoretically be handling were not small, and the idea that with one wrong click of a mouse he could lose it all… He would manage though, and when he headed in on that Friday morning, he would do so with the best wishes of Flint at least. He knew better now than to hope that his best friend would send a message. He knew that Drew was still around, and that he might send a few words every so often; but he was no longer expectant that when he sent his news, a response would be forthcoming. He had even sent him the link to the footage of the show, in the hope that he might find time to watch it; to be reminded of the good old days when they sang side by side in that happy group of young men. He had to hope that, or he'd break down and cry with the loss that weighed heavy on his heart.

As it transpired, the world of work was not nearly as daunting as the three friends had imagined. They had agreed to meet up at The Spotlight for dinner on that first Monday night when they all began their jobs, half expecting to be too tired to cook for themselves, but as it turned out, it had been much like their first day at college for all of them, or if they looked even further back, like the day they had all met for the first time at Dalton. Ethan had had an advantage with having met his colleagues on Friday and been shown the ropes, so he had found his first day actually quite simple. He was working as part of a small team, and they were all very friendly. When he had mentioned his connections to The Spotlight, the eyes of two of his new co-workers had lit up; it turned out that they had met each other there during their own first week in the job, and they had been going there with friends, on and off, ever since. In the course of the conversation, Ethan also mentioned Sebastian, and that prompted an enquiry about Book of Mormon. He had no choice but to admit that he had been one of the Mormons that night; he refused to sing for them all, at first, but then, when they had least expected it, he had jumped up in the middle of the office and started to sing and dance a small section of Turn it Off! for them all. After that, he had a room full of new friends.

Flint had expected that there might be tension on his first day. He had worried that there might be snide comments about his relationship with the daughter of the boss; maybe even a disgruntled employee or two that felt that they had been in line for the job and he had stolen it from them. Instead, he was warmly welcomed by everyone; it turned out that Mr Bernstein had come to meet the entire department before Flint had even attended his interview, and had told them all about him. He had been able to tell them all about what he had studied at college in Princeton, and about the fact that he had been part of an Antarctic mission, with people selected from across the nation's schools, a few years before. He had spoken to his tutors at Princeton, and had told his future colleagues what they thought of him. They had all come to the collective conclusion that he was ideal for the job before Mr Bernstein had even pointed out that he happened to be engaged to his younger daughter. Flint still found a few things to tell his new colleagues that they didn't know, like the fact that he owned a small share in a successful diner. He also informed them that if his mother ever called, he was out, mainly because she was every Jewish mother stereotype in the book. There was a little laughter, and understanding looks from around the room. He then made the fatal mistake of picking the phone up when it rang without checking the caller display. His quiet "Hi mom!" had half of his colleagues in hysterics…

Beats had discovered that the office he would be working out of was small, overcrowded, and in need of better air conditioning. Those discomforts were made up for by the friendliness of his co-workers. The first question he was asked was how he took his coffee, and what his favourite kind of donut was. The next hour was spent in a discussion about his friends and family. He told them quite candidly about Elliott, and how much he enjoyed living with him; about the Warblers, and how they were all still so close after so much tragedy; and about how his best friend from school lived in the apartment downstairs. He also explained to his colleagues that commuted in from the outer boroughs how he could actually afford to live in the West Village. The moment that he mentioned Jeff's name, one of the older women in the office asked if it was the same Jeff that had drawn The Judging Angel. When he said yes, Beats had a new friend for life. When he went on to mention that he owned a small part of the Spotlight Diner, which he had now paid Flint back for, with a little help from Elliott, he had even more friends.

It was whilst they were gathered there that Monday night that the door opened and Sebastian walked in, looking as if he had just had the biggest shock of his life. Jeff was working that evening and spotted him as he dropped off an order to a table near the door. He immediately rushed over to his friend, and giving him a steadying arm, he helped him across to the table where the three others sat. Skylar was also working that night, and on seeing what was going on, he rushed over with a glass of ice water to give to the former Warbler, who was as white as a sheet.

"What is going on, Seb? Has something happened to Dave, or Julian, or your mom?" asked Jeff with concern.

"No, they're all fine, it's just… I got a call from Carmen this morning, asking me to come and see her about an hour ago. When I went into her office, she was in a shocking mood - and then she said that we needed to discuss what had happened in Tuesday's escapade…"

"She can't have been angry with you for that!" exclaimed Flint. "I mean, we were good, got excellent write ups, and must have been a feather in the cap of NYADA! She can't have been mad at you for it!"

"I can see why you would imagine that, and I guess I did too at first. The way she looked I thought I was about to be expelled. Then the phone rang, and she let rip at someone on the other end about some repairs that should have been done and hadn't been. After that, she was back to being all smiles; it wasn't me that had made her angry. Then there was another knock at the door, and the producer of Book of Mormon walked in. That was another surprise, given that I'd only seen him yesterday and he hadn't mentioned anything. Then again, he had been quiet since he told the Mormon cast off about the party, then went on to tear holes in the hosts before firing them. He even threatened to sue them... Anyway, he was there because he and Carmen both needed to speak to me about something. They'd already had a discussion and now they needed to inform me… It turns out that one of the Mormon's in a swing role has just become a dad. He and his wife are struggling for childcare, and as she earns more, he wants to go part-time. He will be taking every weekend off as a result, which leaves a vacant spot on Friday, Saturday and Sunday - and they want to give it to me. They want me in the permanent cast four times a week. Carmen had agreed to it, if I want the part. Basically, I've been given the chance to be on Broadway for real…"

"My God, that's fantastic news! When do you start?" exclaimed Ethan, as the others burst out in radiant smiles.

"Actually, I told them that I needed some time to think about it…"

"But this is your dream, Seb," said Jeff. "What is there to think about?"

"It's such a big commitment for a start. It means that I will be in the theatre, virtually every weekend, for the next two years maybe; he did say that the part would be mine until I graduated. It would mean having to do all of my NYADA work on weeknights, which would be a big ask from me to Dave; he is my husband after all, and he would barely see me if I do this, because he would have all his games and coaching duties at the times that I wasn't in the theatre. Finally, I do kind of like my Job at The Strand, and I would have to give that up, because I just wouldn't have the time."

"All that is true," said Flint, "but isn't this what you signed up for when you chose to enter the world of show? Beats and I had to spend nearly every Friday and Saturday night stripping for well over a year, and the number of times that we both wished we could be doing something else instead… So yes, your life for the next couple of years will be some kind of living hell. Your entire existence will be tied up with either college, or Book of Mormon, and you will be tired all the time. I do not know how good your love life is with Dave, nor do I want to, but there will be less of that too. But at the end of those two years, when you graduate from NYADA, you will do so with one thing that others will lack - experience. You will find that will get you in the door easily at auditions, and who knows, maybe by then they will be looking for a new Elder Price…"

"I guess…"

"If you talk to Dave, then I am pretty sure that he will tell you to go for it, because he loves you, and the whole performing side of you. From what I have been told, he was boasting about you non-stop at all of his practices last week, and his face on Tuesday night was a picture. Yes, it will be hard, but the two of you have both dealt with so much worse than this. This one will be easy," remarked Beats.

"There isn't much that we can do about The Strand, I'm afraid, but don't they need staff on call that can come in and cover during the vacation season? You could ask them if you could do that next summer at least. I mean, even if you do have other people to cover for in the show, then it won't be a full time role anyway," reasoned Skylar.

"Well, I suppose I could ask them," mused Sebastian. "And you are right about Dave, of course; he will tell me to go for it. I don't know if they'd ever let me be Elder Price though…"

"After you were such a big hit in the part?" scoffed Jeff. "They'd be mad not to let you do it…"

Sebastian laughed, and then sat back amongst his friends to think. He did want the part so badly, and all of the reasons that he had just come up with for not taking it were just excuses. He smiled as he knew inside that as long as Dave had no objections, his response to them the following day would be "When do I start?"

Back in Ohio, the news of Sebastian's Broadway stage appearance had finally reached the ears of his father. He would have been the last person that Ethan would have invited that night, given that there was no love lost between them. The estrangement that had begun due to his father's neglect and lack of care had widened into an unbridgeable chasm when the truth about his maman had come out. The news came to him from Mrs Duval; as Sue and Mr Duval had been fighting another match in front of the television cameras, the two campaign managers had found themselves alone together in the green room. The election had brought the two of them together in that way so often now that due to the politeness the two of them had been raised with, they knew each other's coffee order.

It was over that coffee that Mrs Duval casually mentioned that she had been in New York the previous week, and had seen Sebastian perform. She went on to mention that she had met his mother, and the sister of Mr Smythe's first wife. He had been about to jump in and correct her when she mentioned they had flown in from Canada together; that meant that he kept his silence and agreed with her. He knew exactly who it must have been that night, and the last thing that he needed was for Sue Sylvester, and thus the world, to find out that his first wife wasn't actually dead…

Instead, he had asked Mrs Duval how Sebastian's performance had been, and she proceeded to sing his praises; how wonderful his timing was, how his face told the tale and conveyed every emotion, how clear and perfect his vocals were. As she went on, he began to feel a warm glow akin to pride. After all, this was his son that she was talking about. True, he might not have approved of many of his choices - I mean, married at his age! - but his decision to head into a career in the world of entertainment did appear to have been the right one. He had not received great reports after all from the firm in London that he had briefly spent time with at his own insistence. Sebastian it seemed had been more interested in the contents of the biscuit tin than in the world of accountancy.

As the day progressed, he thought about things more, and eventually sought out and read the review in the New York Times. The fulsome praise it contained lead him to do something that shocked him, and would give his son an even bigger shock. When Sebastian's phone had buzzed with the text from an unrecognised number, he had been cautious, but his jaw dropped when he read the words 'I hear that you make a great Mormon. I hope that you achieve all of your dreams. Never give up on them, and unlike me, don't lose sight of the really important things. Dad.'

The next day, Sebastian would accept the part; Dave's response when he had told him was that he was stupid not to have taken the role on the moment he was offered it. All that was important to him was that his husband was successful in his career, and if that meant that they did not see as much of each other as he would like for a while, then he could live with it, just as long as he still woke up next to him in the morning. Having taken the part, Sebastian had then headed to The Strand with a heavy heart to give in his notice, having made sure that the theatre knew that he would have to work any period of time that they required him to first. The manager there was sad to see him go, as he had become a very popular member of staff amongst both his colleagues and the customers alike; however, given his reason for going, he was sure that all of them would wish him all the best. Better still, he also suggested that Sebastian might come back and temp for them during his vacations without the latter even making the suggestion, so all in all, things had worked out quite well.

As the last week of his summer job drew to a close, Sebastian also found himself saying farewell to Jenny. She was finished with school, and so when the shows directors had called her in and offered her a role in the national tour, on the back of her one off performance, as the understudy to Nabalungi, she had grabbed the opportunity with both hands. She believed that her success was entirely down to Sebastian's mad scheme, but he refused to accept that, pointing out that it was her own talent that had earned her the recognition. All that he asked her to do was to stay in touch, and that she promised happily.

That week also saw a third person being called into the office of the director at the theatre, much to their surprise. Mason had headed along out of curiosity, and when he was offered the role that Sebastian had occupied the following summer, he took it with a grin. He after all had no-one that he felt compelled to consult first. When he posted his news on Facebook, his page was immediately flooded with likes and messages of congratulations.

On his final night on the summer job, Sebastian found himself being guided by his fellow Mormons to the cloakroom after the curtain fell; there he discovered that there was now a locker with his name on it, and inside were his costume and that most essential of props - the book. He couldn't resist the temptation of asking one of his new co-stars to take a photo of him holding it, a big smile on his face, and one hand outstretched with his finger poised as if to ring a doorbell. He posted it at once on social media, with the caption "I'm now official…" A summer that had started off with terrible news of a let down for Sebastian had turned out instead to be the one that gave a massive kickstart to his career.

He was, of course, not the only one of the group of friends for whom this summer had been a big break career wise. For Jeff, it had also been quiet a momentous few months. He had inherited a lot of assets, which he had put to very good use. Having disposed of a lot of it, he still had a dream home for himself and Nick; had made the lives of so many simple by housing them; had a holiday place, if not in the Hamptons, certainly on Long Island; and had broken into the tough New York arts scene with his personal homage to Wes. The Judging Angel had been the star attraction at the school art show for the entire summer; it had attracted not just the normal crowd, but the great and the good of the city. Bette had heard all about from Sebastian, and had showed up one afternoon to take a look for herself; her fulsome praise on social media of the work had lead to even more famous faces arriving, including just before closing time one evening, Hillary Clinton. The message that she had left for Jeff made him feel quite giddy, and from then on he had sported one of her pins on his jacket whenever he was out and about in return.

The show was due to end on the Saturday before the new term commenced, and that did raise a big question - what would happen to his work after that. Jeff knew one thing for certain as he headed into a meeting that the Dean had requested on the subject a few days before that date; he was not going to let them shut Wes away in a dusty cupboard. If need be, he would take his painting home with him.

As he sat down across from the Dean and the Principal, he was ready to stick firmly to his guns on the subject. His face must have betrayed his internal mood, as the Dean made to speak first. "Jeff, I must congratulate you; your drawing has been by far the most popular exhibit in the show this summer. Largely thanks to it, and the publicity that it has received, ticket sales for the show have been far higher than usual too, which has been a massive boost to college funds. It has also created a lot of speculation as to what will happen to your piece afterwards. So, it is my pleasure to let you know that we have received an offer to provide a new home for your work, where it will be on permanent public display."

"Really?" said Jeff with a smile. "That is wonderful, as long as it is in the right place…"

"Now, the offer does come with a couple of provisos. They want to be allowed to produce postcard sized prints and a limited number of larger ones, for sale to visitors. The proceeds from the sale of those will be shared between yourself, the college, and the much respected institution in question. You will of course have the final say over those, and any other merchandising that might take place. Oh, I forgot, I should have said where the offer has come from first. The offer was made by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, here in New York…"

For a moment, Jeff just sat in silence, but then he shook his head. "I'm sorry sir, but I thought that I just heard you say that the Met were interested in The Judging Angel, but that is impossible, as that is where all the older and historic paintings by the great artists are found."

"Actually these days they are looking to expand their collection by adding newer works by artists that they believe have the talent to stand comparison with the rest of their collection, and trust me when I tell you that they found your work more than worthy. The Gallery of Modern Art also expressed an interest, and the Smithsonian would also quite happily take the work, although the latter would mean that it would be moved to Washington DC."

"I can still barely believe that even one of those institutions expressed an interest in my drawing… I mean, I thought that a small gallery somewhere might be interested, but I never imagined the Met…!"

"They have made an offer, and I believe it is one that you will like. They do not wish to purchase The Judging Angel outright; they heard that it was an immensely personal piece of art for you, and so they thought rather that they should just be elected to display it for you, so that it can be enjoyed by everyone in a setting that it so richly deserves. As well as the aforementioned postcards and prints, they would be willing to have two full sized copies made. They would retain one, so that the picture is always on display, so to speak, here in New York. They believe that in time, your drawing could be toured around the world - I am lead to believe that the National Gallery in London has already expressed an interest in having it on loan. The second copy would be your to dispose of as you wish…"

Jeff nodded, his mind overloading. He had not even dreamed this time last year, as he had started to make the rough sketches of Wes for the drawing he intended that it would ever be deemed worthy of all of this. His eyes began to tear up as he imagined Nick's face when he told him the news - and Mike's for that matter. Wes would be mortified that he was going to be part of an internationally renowned art collection, but in private he would be a little thrilled - and as for Thad… "So if I wished to donate the second of those prints to Dalton Academy, so that it could hang in the school, they would have no objections?"

"No, the Met would have no issue with that. Now, the other galleries wish to purchase the piece outright, and these are the figures they are talking about."

The Dean passed two letters to Jeff, and he gasped as he saw the number of zeros in the figures that had been highlighted for him. It was a lot of money, and for most students in his position, that would be the main goal. "I think that I would rather accept the offer from the Met; after all, money isn't everything to me, and the idea that The Judging Angel would still belong to me is very appealing. I have become quite attached to it, to be honest."

"A lot of people have, Jeff. We all expect to see great things from you again this year, but I want to put it on record here and now that we do not expect nor need The Judging Angel Mark II." Jeff smiled at that, and nodded. He was glad that had been said, as he was slightly concerned that he might not be able to produce another masterpiece this year.

Nick was back at work in the Law Library, and Mike was in rehearsal for his first professional stage appearance, so the only person at home to greet Jeff that afternoon was Caleb, who ran up to him as if he had been away for years, not just a few hours. He followed Jeff down to the kitchen, and accepted the small portion of food that he was immediately offered. Jeff found that Nick had made him some sandwiches before he left, and placed them in the fridge; he ate them with a small glass of juice. It was his turn to cook dinner that night, and he knew that tonight he needed to try and do something different from his much loved Mac and Cheese. He headed up to his studio, and found the sketch pad in which he had concealed the instructions that he had been given by François for making the perfect Quiche Lorraine. He wasn't that bad at making pastry, as long as he concentrated, and with Caleb now sleeping in quiet contentment in his usual sunbeam at the garden door, he had the chance… He worked slowly, but that ensured that he was accurate, as just a tiny error could ruin the entire dish. The pastry made, he set about preparing the filling, knowing that the moment he began to fry the small lardons of bacon, Caleb's sensitive nose would pick up the scent, and he would rush to stand at Jeff's feet, looking up in expectation. To that end, he had placed the trimmings in his bowl already…

As so often happened, Nick and Mike met each other on the subway, and walked in to the house together, immediately smelling something that wasn't Mac and Cheese. Nick paled for a moment, picturing his kitchen being a mess, but when they got there, the room was spotless. Jeff had heard them walk in, and had removed the quiche from the oven at its moment of perfection. He had prepared a salad to go with it; and for dessert he had used the ice cream maker to prepare a batch of a new flavour, mixing in lemon, honey and ginger. He told them his news as soon as they sat down at the table, and discovered he had been right. Nick burst into immediate happy tears for his husband, and Mike beamed with pure delight at his friend's wonderful news.

It was Nick that would initiate the Warbler group chat on Skype that evening, so keen was he to share the news of his husband's triumph. As could have been anticipated, the reaction was one of universal delight. After all, it wasn't just a case of Jeff getting his drawing displayed in such a prestigious establishment; it was also their very own Wes Montgomery that was going to be having his portrait displayed alongside the great and the good; being put on public display for, in all likelihood, many decades to come.

"It is funny that in life, Wes would only ever have been known to those of us that loved and respected him; to a few fellow judges and lawyers. In death, his face has become one that has entered the consciousness of so many people in this city, and indeed, country," mused Trent, and they all had to concur that was indeed the case.

"There is one more thing that I need to add, and I didn't even get a chance to tell Nicky, given how excited he was for me. They are going to make a number of prints of The Judging Angel, mainly postcards, but a few larger prints, which is excellent. However, they will also be commissioning two full sized copies; one for their own collection, so that my original can tour the world, if people wish to see it…"

"I'm certain that they will, my love," interjected Nick.

"And another one for me to do with as I wish," continued Jeff. "So, Thad, can you ask the Principal if there is a wall space available at Dalton? I mean, having my work on display there seems like the only sensible option for it to me."

"If I personally have to go and take other things down off the walls, there will be a space for The Judging Angel at Dalton," Thad replied in a voice thick with emotion. "Wes can watch over all of us here on a daily basis then, and that way he will never be forgotten by those that work and study here. On a personal level, this is the best gift that anyone has ever given me, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"I just have one question - where do I put my name down for one of those prints?" asked David, which came as no surprise to any of them. Jeff was not so sure, but he promised that as soon as he did find out, he would put David's name down.