Page 1 of A Certain Step
1
ETHAN
Ethan Everett felt empty. There was no other way to describe the strange disruption in the air or the sense that a part of him was provisionally torn away.
It sounded melodramatic, even though he wasn’t uttering the thoughts aloud. His co-star and best friend, Willa Davidian, had been gone for two days, set to return in five, and five days felt like five hundred right now. Two days without a word from her other than an “I’ve landed and secured coffee. All is well in the world now” text.
Their close friendship had been instantaneous at the initial table read almost two years ago, allowing them to grow closer during rehearsals and preparations forMidnights at Pemberley.But falling this hard for her crept up on him. Sure, he had been in awe of her from the first day; he would never deny that, but slowly and then, all at once, intense feelings descended upon him like a flock of pigeons that’d just been lured with breadcrumbs at Central Park.
He often found himself longing to be around her, constantly wishing to occupy the same space.
It had been a few days after returning from his grandfather’sfuneral when Ethan first noticed how profound his feelings had gotten. When he realized that she kept his sanity intact while he wished he could disappear from his parents’ house. He hadn’t even been home a couple of hours before his dad commented that his grandpa would’ve loved it if Ethan had also been by his side when he passed.You’re the most like him of all his grandkids, and you were the only one who wasn’t in that hospital room,he had said. It wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t trying to criticize Ethan, but he never quite understood how hurtful those comments could be.
Ethan was already exhaustively aware that he was the lone wolf in his family—the one who chose theatre studies and drama over English literature and anthropology. Everyone in his family had a PhD, or they were working toward it, and Ethan was a two-time Tony Award nominee. He had missed holidays and birthdays not because he chose to but because he had no means of getting away. He’d always make up for his absence, though. He’d try to find the best, most sentimental gifts. He’d FaceTime his sister and nephew constantly. He’d check in on them multiple times a week.
His dad never fully recognized how much he expected out of Ethan as his eldest son, and he didn’t mind it usually, but sometimes the words stung.
All he ever really wanted from his family was the assurance that they understood him. He didn’t need or want tireless applause. He was proud of the work he did.
The industry was and would always be hot garbage in more ways than one, but when it allowed people to be their most authentic selves, it made the lonely kid watching from the orchestra seats feel a little less scared of the world outside.
People could step into the theatre for two hours and forget the pain they carried on their shoulders. Broadway stages gavepeople a home away from home—a place to feel safe and loved as they were. And he’d always appreciate being a reason for that.
The entertainers of the world had a place in life’s vast storyboard, too.
His grandpa had also been the one to drive him toward the stage—the one who frequently reminded him of how it must’ve been his grandmother’s influence. She was the artist in their family, the one who merged teaching and choir to find a perfect middle. She was the one who taught Ethan how to hold a note. His paternal grandparents were the ones who introduced him toLion King, his first Broadway musical.
So, when the comments hurt and struck deeper than he would’ve liked on top of the grief suffocating him, Ethan thought of Willa. He reflected upon how she was the only person who never expected anything from him. How he could tell her anything and discern from the look in her eyes that she was never once passing judgment or questioning him. He thought of how, even when she offered him advice, she did so in a way that never belittled or made him feel like he was failing.
He latched on to the fact that being around her felt like home.
At the time, Ethan hadn’t even fully processed his grandfather’s death until he called Willa, and she ran over to his hotel room. He had suppressed his heartache and tears until he saw her, and she let him cry on her shoulders while holding him tightly without a word. It was everything he had needed. He had later mentioned what his dad had said, and she looked him squarely in the eyes when she declared that his grandpa would’ve understood. She also reassured Ethan that his dad probably didn’t realize how it’d hurt him. She reminded him that his grandfather would’ve been proud of the show he was putting on every night, and surely his dad was, too. Ethanbelieved the observations when they came from her. It was easy to.
And then he stopped himself abruptly, bringing his wandering mind back from memories to reality. He focused on the fact that he couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize their friendship because losing Willa would hurt more than anything else he’d been through.
He forced himself to focus on the anguish that would take hold of him if she wasn’t beside him.
“Earth to Ethan…” he heard coming from his physical therapist, Jenny Nolan. Right, that’s where he was, sitting along the cushioned bench at his second to last appointment for his knee.
“Shit, sorry, Jen. Were you saying something?” he replied apologetically.
“I only asked you to lift your left leg about three times, but who’s counting?”
He raised his left leg to oblige. “Sorry.”
Jenny gently placed her hand on the back of his stubborn knee. “Where’s that head of yours at today?”
Missing Willa.
“Trying to mull over some of the questions I know we’ll get during interviews. You know me.” Thank goodness he was quick on his feet with a reply.
He could perform in front of sold-out theatres and do whatever was needed of him, never once fumbling, but press obligations always made him far too nervous.
Still, that wasn’t the case today.
Today, he was thinking about his best friend, wishing he could have gone to England with Willa as her plus one to her brother’s wedding. She joked about it, but he knew a part of her had been serious. Willa was just as nervous about the wedding as she was excited. She was stressed about being the only person in her family who was single, uneasy about people offering toset her up, and asking all sorts of unwanted questions about her love life.
“You’ll do fine. You always do. No one would ever know how much you stress about them,” Jenny said, shrugging him out of his thoughts.
