Page 11 of Rebel Romeo

And though it isn’t my most rousing performance, under the circumstances, I’m proud of myself that I was even able to stumble through that scene amidst all of Missy’s snide comments.

Holden claps his hands together. "Okay, guys. I know that was a slog of a rehearsal, but I'm proud that we all got through it. Go home and get some rest. We'll start again in the morning."

My feet cement in place. Does this mean I don't have a private rehearsal today?

In some ways, I should feel excited for this. It could mean that Holden finally sees how far I’ve come and that I don't need the extra work.

But deep down, I know that's not true. Especially based on today and his reaction to my performance. If anything, today’s rehearsal would have demonstrated just how much more work I do need.

My stomach turns because deep down I know that him canceling our private rehearsals has more to do with Missy being here than anything about me.

I stay rooted at center stage for a long moment before Holden’s brows lift pointedly at me. “You’re dismissed.”

With those two words, he turns his back on me and crosses the stage to talk to Amy.

I’m dismissed.

Truer words have never been spoken.

Numb, I follow Nolan off the stage and grab my bag from where I’d left it in the theater. Inside, I pull out my phone to see that there are nine new text messages that I missed while in rehearsal.

Most are from my sister. A couple are from my mom. And every single one of them makes me feel like the shity daughter I am.

Because I know there is no universe in which I can ask for time off to visit without losing this opportunity of a lifetime.

But I also know that if I don't go down to see my dad, the guilt will eat me alive.

A feminine voice just in front of me nearly startles me enough to drop my phone. "You seem distracted today.”

I look up to find Missy towering over me, all long legs and flowing raven hair.

And me. Short, stubby, dull-haired Kate.

I can't help but feel inferior when I'm simply in the room with her. But being in front of her like this, the juxtaposition of our differences is intensely jarring.

"Excuse me?” I ask. I’m not sure I hear her correctly. Because why in the hell would Missy Howl be asking about me in any concerned way?

"I said you seem distracted today. Is something wrong?”

This a trap, right? It has to be a trap.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Since when do you care about my performance? Or me for that matter?”

"I don't care about you per se. I care about the show. And since this is my first time producing, I care about how it turns out. Holden and I can't have our names on something that turns out to be a piece of shit. So I'll ask again. Is something wrong?”

I'm screaming inside. I want to shout at her that yes, something is definitely wrong. Obviously something is wrong. My fucking ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend is watching my every move in my debut broadway performance and commenting on my height and hair color and chemistry with her other ex-boyfriend. I don't know a single soul who would not be affected by that.

Instead, I simply smile.

It's tight and forced, but I manage regardless. "Nothing's wrong,” I say just as my phone buzzes with another text from my sister. I glance down just in time to catch Dad’s room number at the hospital before the screen fades to black.

Lavender eyes assess me, and sweep down my body before meeting my gaze again. “It doesn’t look like nothing’s wrong.” Missy says, crossing her arms. “Is this about Holden and me getting back together?" The tiniest smirk curves against her ruby lips, but I’m not sure if she meant for me to see it.

She knows exactly what she's doing. She's calculating and shrewd and vengeful and if I didn’t hate her so much, I might even be impressed.

Of course it fucking bothers me that she and Holden are back together. My eyes land briefly on Holden's grandfather's ring on her thumb. The ring that I know symbolizes all that he hates in this world.

So why the hell does she want me to admit that their dating bothers me? Is she really this sadistic? Whatever her reasons, I can't let her get the satisfaction of seeing this bother me. Not for a second.

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