Page 14 of Something Cheeky

“You’ve had only one show with a majority POC cast during the past three seasons. And zero POC directors.” Derek had researched all the possible theaters before pitching his show. Prestige Rep was the only one that had said yes.

“Exactly! I tried to tell them that they can’t support a majority POC showandexpect to make a ton of money. But we do it because it’s the right thing to do.”

Derek opened his mouth to protest the self-fulfilling prophecy, but Greg put out his hand.

“The market’s not ready for it. For you. But I’ve seen your work. I know that you’ve worked on enough productions at enough places across the country that you understand how important your musical is.”

“I do. It’s going to give Asian actors more jobs in roles that are written for them. Not jammed into a role that’s been turned into a diverse one.”

“Exactly. So if this musical fails, the board is less likely to invest in more productions with directors of color.”

“Oh.” Derek sat back in his seat. A lump formed in his stomach. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“It’s a lot to take in, Derek, but I know one thing—mind if I finish this off?” He gestured at the plate.

“Go for it.” Derek’s appetite had disappeared.

Greg dug into the second piece of bone marrow.

“I know this”—Greg waved his spoon as he continued—“if anyone can do it, it’s my mentee. I’ve trained you and taught you almost everything I know. You’re going to knock it out of the park.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me,” Derek replied more brightly than he felt. Mounting a brand-new production would be hard enough. Now he had to worry about the fate of guest directors who would come after him.

Chapter 7

“Mom.” Derek sighed before continuing in Vietnamese. “Tap the circle made of two arrows.”

Sometimes, if he was lucky, he’d catch a glimpse of his mom’s face during their weekly Sunday morning calls. If only he had a sibling to abdicate his tech support duties to the way Zoe had with her brother, Eddie.

No matter how many times he’d shown her how to video chat, a good chunk of their calls gave him a clear view of the yellowed carpet of his childhood home. He could make out the stain where he’d knocked over a bottle of black nail polish during his emo phase.

His mom’s place was the complete opposite of the shiny, modern apartment the theater had set up for him while he was in DC. It was swanky but generic, lacking warmth. He leaned back on the black couch and stuck one of the million pillows behind his head. He wondered how many famous directors had stayed here. Maybe they had left behind some of their creative energy.

“Sang.” His mother drew out his Vietnamese middle name to bring his attention back from her lack of technical ability. “Where are you now?”

“In DC,” he replied to the carpet. “Working on a new musical.”

His mom’s phone shook for a few seconds before he was rewarded with a close-up of her eye, her brow knitted in concentration.

“It’s working!” She propped the phone against something on thecoffee table and leaned back on the same IKEA couch they’d owned since moving in fifteen years ago. “Which c?i luong is this?”

“It’s not—” Derek laughed. He didn’t know the Vietnamese word formusical, but this song-driven storytelling was similar to traditional folk operas. “It’s a new rock musical that I’m writing with my friend Th?o. The one about T?m and Cám.”

“That’s a kid’s story,” she scoffed. “Why would anyone want to see that?”

Byanyone, she meant people who weren’t Vietnamese.

“People love Cinderella stories. Our version is better. It’s got everything: suspense, romance, and danger. Murder, too.” Some of his favorite childhood moments had been when he curled up in bed with his mother while she embellished his favorite scenes fromT?m Cám.

Her eyes softened. Maybe she was recalling the same memories he was.

“You loved acting out all the parts, especially when T?m sang to the magical fish.”

“I became a storyteller because of you. That’s what theater is for me. A chance to share our stories with the rest of the world.”

Even though her lips were pressed together in slight disapproval, she nodded. The small glimpse of pride in her eyes gave him confidence to continue.

“M?, if this show does well, mine could be a household name! People would celebrate our culture and myths. More importantly, it would create more jobs for Asian actors.” Derek had fought for every acting and directing gig he’d gotten. It wasn’t fair that he had to compete against his fellow Asian actors for a handful of roles. His musical could make a difference.

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