Page 52 of A Certain Step
Sahar winked. “You read two books I recommend to you each month.”
Willa looked at Ethan.
“I have to give mine more thought,” he teased.
Oddly, somehow, this helped ease some of her nerves.
After another roundof rehearsals and more cast members joining in, they dispersed for the afternoon. Wanting to be alone for a while, Willa ate her lunch at home, took an emotional support shower, and left for the theatre two hours earlier than normal.
“Five minutes, people.”
Sahar turned to Willa and looped her hand into Willa’s folded arm. “Let’s do this,” she said, a massive grin forming along her matching nude-colored lips. This was another interesting adjustment. Willa was used to maroon red lips, but Elizabeth wouldn’t don that color until after she was hired to work in Pemberley’s gorgeously gaudy corners.
The show started smoothly, the crowd reacting to them with the grace and applause she hoped for. Having to share the first three numbers closely with Sahar made easing into the production more seamless. For a beat, it was hard to think of the Ethan of it all. Her mother was right. Willa could always disappear into a role once the audience started reacting and her co-stars filled the space.
It was also enthralling to closely witness her best friend’s acting chops—how he exuded Darcy’s initial unkindness and prideful stubbornness; it made the banter and tongue-lashing more fun. It made catching the minute changes in his character more riveting as an actor. She caught him staring at her, as the role required, during “Smile More” and “Lost in the Lights,” but his true reactions would come in “Midnights at Pemberley.” It was then Darcy realized that Elizabeth fit in better at the Pemberley grounds than he thought possible—where he began to see how the others appreciated her.
Willa had gone off stage quickly after sharing the stage with Declan as Wickham for “Stubborn Bastard” and quickly stripped out of the hostess getup to a maroon sequined costume before “Midnights at Pemberley.” This was the show’s biggest ensemble number before “Marry Me.”
Oddly enough, she was ready for it. Her mind was focused so intently on the performances that the rest of her emotions blurred behind the music and lyrics. The verbal sparring inside her had temporarily muted.
Plus, the titular theme was always one of her favorite performances as an ensemble member, but it was intoxicating to experience it from another side. She had two big jumps in the ensemble, while Elizabeth had four smaller ones, plus a long drag from all the male performers, which was just as fun during rehearsals as it was during the show.
When the dancers dispersed backstage, Elizabeth talked to Jane about taking a walk outdoors. She needed to clear her mind, and funnily, so did Willa, but the upcoming performance would do the opposite of that. Sahar winked at her. She wasn’t sure if that was in character or not. Willa appreciated it, regardless.
She began walking toward center stage, and the bright gold lights dimmed into cooler blues. The back curtains fell, and a gazebo came out to the forefront. Shortly, Ethan, as Darcy, was in front of her again.This was it,she thought.You can do this, Willa. Be Elizabeth. Stay here, in character. Don’t go anywhere else.
They began arguing again. She shook her head, turning to walk off—“Wait…”Darcy called out. She turned to him, eyes narrowed, brows raised, anger brewing inside of her.
They began the choreography as rehearsed, Ethan’s hold on her tighter, his emotions on full display. She arched back, touching the ground with her hand, before he lifted her, prompting her to ride up his leg in a slow, drawn-out thrusting motion.
Darcy held her knee in place and grazed his fingers up her thigh with a reverence that would’ve likely made Willa say yes to this horrendous proposal if she were Elizabeth. She faced him, foreheads touching, their breaths mingling intimately in the space between them. He skated one hand delicately down her breastbone. Willa’s body scorched in the wake of his touch. “Marry me,”he sang, voice low and gruff to match the now slowed-down melody.
She shook her head, looking down and away from him. “You don’t want me,”she blared out, a little more anger in her tone.
He curled his fingers underneath her chin and turned her gaze back to him. His eyes were bright spots in the low-lit room. “Yes, I do,”he sang.
She moved away from him again; Ethan methodically dragged her back, flipped her sideways with his hands around her frame, and then slid her underneath his legs. She came up with a turn. “Against your better judgment,”she spat out. He gripped her hand and spun her thrice before bringing her close to him once more.
His lips fell to her neck, and she gasped, thanking the heavens this was part of the script, too. “I want you,”he declared, voice breaking with Darcy’s uneasiness. The aggression and passion simmered into a shuddering vulnerability.
She leaned her head back, giving him more room, allowing him further access in a moment where Elizabeth briefly lost herself to the temptations building inside of her. His lips were warm, soft, and staggeringly enticing. “Against your better judgment,”she repeated, her voice marrying rage and intrigue. She could feel him shake his head against her neck, his breath sending tremors down to her toes.
He brushed his lips delicately up her neck, hand rising to hold her cheek with a hunger in his eyes that eclipsed his frustrations.“It came out wrong,”he uttered, a near whisper in Darcy’s voice. And then his mouth crashed into hers, magnetic, commanding.
Willa opened hers slightly, and he tugged on her bottom lip with a tenderness that made her knees buckle. She willed herself back into character, ignoring her fragile state of mind that was begging to give in to her desires.
Fuck, kissing someone had never felt this right before.
No no no.
Then, as the script demanded, she pushed him off.
“Never,”she bellowed. “Not when you’ve belittled me and declared that all of this is against your better judgment,” Elizabeth screamed. She shook her head, then spoke again, her voice lower now, more vulnerable and heartbroken. “Never,” she whispered and then ran off the stage as the intermission curtains fell.
None of this was real.
None of this was Ethan and Willa.
