Page 7 of Mistaken Impression

“And I from you.”

I doubt that, but I’m not surprised by him saying it. It’s just the kind of thing he would say. He’s forever encouraging younger actors to work harder… to be better.

A few more people pile into the room, but the next one to come over to me is the director. His name is Shawn. At twenty-seven, he’s younger than I’d expect most directors to be, but he has a commanding presence, both on and off the stage.

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, patting me on the arm.

“I’m going to miss all of you, too.” That’s not a lie. I’ve made friends here, and although I know I’ll stay in touch with Calvin, I doubt I’ll be back. Like I said, this isn’t what I want to do.

Calvin nudges me. “Uh-oh… here comes trouble.”

I look up and see Maggie approaching, and wonder if I can hide somewhere. I glance around, except there’s nowhere… other than behind the screen. That won’t work, though, because I’m fairly sure she’d follow me, and God knows what she’d expect to happen then. She’s been chasing after me since I got here, and if that sounds big-headed, it’s not meant to. Maggie chases after everyone. She’s about the same age as me and is attractive enough, in a rather obvious way. To my knowledge, though, there’s nothing wrong with her… other than the fact that she’s slept with every other male actor in the company, including Calvin.

And Desmond, I believe.

“It won’t be the same without you,” she murmurs, coming right up to me and brushing her hand up my arm.

“Yeah, it will. You won’t even notice I’ve gone.”

“I will.” She moves even closer, her body crushed against mine. Then she sighs, ensuring that her ample breasts press into me, and I take a step back, which seems to disappoint her. At that moment, Ozzy comes over, offering glasses of champagne to me and Calvin. “Where’s mine?” Maggie asks, pouting at him.

“Over here.” He nods towards the table on the far side of the room, and although she seems reluctant to go, she follows him, leaving me to sigh out my relief.

“There’s an easy way to get rid of her,” Calvin whispers, clinking his glass against mine.

“Oh?”

“Just fuck her. She’ll leave you alone then. That’s what happened with me.”

“It’s a nice idea… but I’m leaving, remember? She won’t be a problem after tonight.”

He chuckles and I take a sip of champagne. I’ve never ‘just fucked’ anyone in my life, but I’m not about to say that. I’m not about to admit I haven’t had sex since moving here, either.Working in the theatre, learning lines, and keeping very anti-social hours have made it difficult to meet new people. Those all sound like pathetic excuses, I know, but they’re genuine enough. And besides, I’ve always preferred to get to know the women I sleep with. That probably explains why the last woman to share my bed was Moira… the woman I left behind in London. I wasn’t in love with her, or anything like that, but she was my most serious girlfriend to date. We’d been together for nearly eighteen months when I was given the chance to come here. As far as I was concerned, even if acting wasn’t my ‘thing’, it was an adventure, and one I wasn’t about to turn down. Moira didn’t see it that way. Unlike me, she had family ties, and asking her to leave them all behind was clearly too much.

I wasn’t sorry, even if she made our parting more difficult than I felt it needed to be. It worked out for the best in the end. I’m rarely at home, so I’m not sure how much we’d have seen of each other… and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we’d have lasted. We had fun together, but she was never ‘it’ for me.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I snuck out?” I whisper to Calvin, and he looks up at me, frowning slightly.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hang around for a fond farewell.” I’m not sure there will be one, but Ozzy’s just gone to find more alcohol, and the more drunk they all get, the more likely it is that this gathering will end in tears. They won’t be mine, but I’d rather just sneak out, anyway. I’m done here now.

“It’ll be fine,” he says as he waves towards the door. “Just don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous.”

“I’ll never forget you, Calvin.”

He chuckles and, keeping my head down to avoid making eye contact, I surreptitiously slip from the room, making it to the corridor with surprising ease.

The stage door is to my right, and I open it, sucking in a lung-full of fresh air, before pulling it closed behind me. I feel ludicrously light-headed, considering I’ve only had a small glass of champagne. It’s not alcohol that’s making me feel like that, though… it’s a combination of nerves and excitement. I’m terrified about the new job I’m about to start, but to me, that just makes it even more of an adventure.

My apartment isn’t far from the theatre, and I let myself in, standing on the threshold for a moment, absorbing the space.

I love it here, and I know how lucky I am to have found this place. When I first came to Boston, the production company I was working for financed my accommodation. The budget wasn’t huge, but it ran to a one-bedroom apartment in a fairly nice part of town, not too far from the studios where I worked. That contract duly ended, and when it did, I knew I’d have to find somewhere else to live. I may have fallen in with the theatre company, but they couldn’t afford to pay me very much, which meant I couldn’t keep my apartment. Luckily, Anna said she knew someone, who knew someone, who might be able to help, and while I was grateful, I fully expected to find myself in a shoebox in a rundown area of Boston. I never anticipated a loft apartment that used to be a dance studio, just a ten minute walk from the theatre, where even at midnight, the light is incredible. The open plan layout helps with that, although I have the privacy of a mezzanine for my bedroom, with everything else, including the bathroom, on this lower level.

I close the door, the moonlight flooding in through the expansive windows, and make my way across to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of wine. I don’t care how late it is, I’m still too wired to go to bed, and I sit on the sofa, put my feet up, and lean back, staring at the high ceiling with a smile on my face.

Life’s good. It’s really good.

And I think it’s about to get a lot better.

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