WHO: Hugh Christian & NPC!co-stars. WHEN: Early February various dates. WHERE: The Capital & Hugh's Lakeside Mansion. WHAT: Rehearsals & realizations. WARNINGS: Partially Dialog, no content warnings.
"That's it right there. Did you feel it?"
"Yeah, if we do that again."
"I don't know why you don't just marry him and buy things."
"I'm glad he's come up with something. I think he was beginning to panic."
"I didn't visibly blanch when he said he gets two hundred thousand dollars for a first draft, did I?"
"Well, he's got a name. You know." … "He's good." .... "God, I'm as stiff as a board. I haven't exercised in two days. I'm completely out of touch with my body."
"When's your plane tomorrow?"
Hugh broke character as the idea occurred to him. "No, no, wait, I think - a pause there - and what if I come over and start giving you a massage for a moment."
"Yes. Cause then it could move into me sort of shaking that off and going over to the barre to stretch."
"You're going to kill me. Murdered, right here in the heart by the total lack of appreciation of the emotional support I'm trying to give to you."
"Yeah, but it's a little awkward for you, and we can show that there - it's the second layer. Like Lucas was talking about."
"God, I'm as stiff as a board. I haven't exercised in two days. I'm completely out of touch with my body."
…
"When's your plane tomorrow?"
"Noon." … "But I'm back the day after. Here for a week, then go to Seattle for no more than six days, and then that's it."
"And here I'm at the Barre, then:
"No more teaching other companies Charley's dance."
"Concentrate on your own work.
No, there's a little hurt there, more: Concentrate on your own work."
"Oh, god yes, I love that, Hugh. And Anna's oblivious to it, just 'Whatever that is.', you know, she's so in her own head right there."
"Exactly. You want to run it again?"
"Let's go back from Burton leaving."
"I don't know why you don't just marry him and buy things."
---
Having a role was a godsend, so far as Hugh was concerned. Memorizing lines and blocking. Discussing character motivation and actions. He wasn't the lead in this play, but that was fine. With a small cast of four he lacked neither lines nor stage time, and the fact that his character could in no way be construed as anything other than the supportive side-kick was at this moment of his life such a fucking relief.
He didn't always run lines outside of rehearsal with his co-stars, but Ashley, who was playing the role of Anna, was in one of her first professional roles, and she was determined to get it all absolutely right, and he was enjoying running them with her. They had creative chemistry, and it was energizing, and he wanted to see her feel comfortable and confident because he could tell there was promise there, and if he could offer some experience to help build that - then he had the time and energy to invest into it and they'd ended up staying after nearly every day that week as the opening date crept closer, playing with notes from the directors and the way their own personalities interacted with those of the characters they were portraying.
He watched her on the stage right now as they ran down to the end of the first act. Aware of the lines coming, the space on stage between them, and at once aware of the necessities of his craft and completely inhabiting Larry, the gay best friend, fond as hell, and slightly exasperated.
"Slut."
"Oh, God. He wants to go out tonight."
"And of course, out of abject guilt, you said sure. You could always have said, I couldn't possibly, I was fucked blind last night."
"Go to hell."
"Please note how contact with your restaurateur has eroded our speech. We're just at an age where we pick that sort of thing up."
"I'm going back to bed."
"You'll miss class and you've got work to do."
"I'll take a shower and think about it."
"What would you say to a waffle?"
"Get lost, waffle. Get thee behind me. Which is exactly where it would go."
---
"Hugh now I only want waffles."
Hugh laughed at his co-star. "It's because I just asked you about waffles ten times in the last thirty; I'm not surprised. There's a diner with a twenty-four hour breakfast somewhere here I'm sure."
"I'm avoiding carbs.”
This was said with a whine, and Hugh nodded his head. "Alright, fair, but it's the city - someone, somewhere has Keto waffles, I'm sure of it."
"Yeah, but it's not New York, Hugh, it's not New York."
"I can't argue with that. If we were in Seattle I'd know a place."
She genuinely hesitated as if she might take him up on trying to figure out if Keto waffles could be procured in the Capital and then she shook her head. "I've got that scene with that ridiculous dressing gown, no waffles until after performances. I'll just go home like the boring human being that I am."
“Darling you look fine, and don’t let anyone bully you into thinking otherwise.” The complement, although true, came out almost automatically. Theatre was theatre and they all, to a certain extent, were hyper aware of their physical appearance. And Hugh wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she had less leeway there than him. That didn't make it right though.
She made a face. "Tomorrow," she slid a messenger bag over her shoulder.
"Tomorrow," he buttoned up his shirt.
As he left the theatre, walking out into damp streets from an earlier rain, he paused wondering whether he was ready to go home or if he wanted to go to a bar for a while. A club was also an option, but he didn't really want to stay too late over there and there was a real likelihood of him going home with someone if he ended up in a club. There was that danger in a bar too, probably. If he stayed, he should call his dog walker and probably get them to take Heart out again.
Plus, rehearsal was early in the morning. He'd skip it for tonight - maybe he could call Dante up for clubbing on the weekend.
---
The commute to the Capital and back was good for one thing: singing through your Best of Broadway playlist at the top of your lungs.
And singing through your Best of Broadway playlist was good for distracting you from thinking about anything else, and if you choked up at fucking Rent, it wasn't as if there was anyone there to see it.
And maybe stepping into a house and being greeted only by an overly enthusiastic labrador, wasn't as bad as it had seemed a year ago. He started music, poured a glass of white wine, and threw some vegetables in the oven to roast while he started up a pan to roast the fish.
There had definitely been points in his life where he'd ended up in roles where the role itself had felt like a type of therapy, a way to push out of whatever he had going on in his life. In its own way the last play he'd done in the Capital had felt like this. Right now, there wasn't anything like that in this one. Larry wasn't much like Hugh, except for perhaps where they overlapped in concern for their friend and a sort of flippant charm. And maybe that in and of itself was its own sort of therapy - the differences in personality -- stepping into a role where nearly all of the character's personal life was happening off-stage because he was a supporting friend -- that was therapy too.
He flipped the fish, reached for the wine and took a sip.
Things weren't perfect. There were underlying regrets and hopes and wishes and fears that were still there. There was still a longing for some sort of companionship he could count on, but for a moment he was able to ignore all of that.
And for a moment it was the closest he'd felt to normal in a really long time.