Page 27 of Your Pace or Mine
Jamie nodded. “I iced it. And I haven’t been on a run since then. Resting completely is hardly an option, though, not with a career in theatre.”
“Rest is essential to recovery.”
“Alas, working is essential to paying for rent and food.”
“Aren’t you in between jobs right now?”
“Yeah, which means I have to teach classes and constantly practice so I stay ready for auditions.”
Jamie knew he was burning himself out. He was taking dance or performance classes as often as he possibly could, though he knew he’d have to keep it light next week if the pain persisted.His lecturers in drama school had drilled it into his head that he needed to keep up his craft;if you aren’t being paid to perform, you should be paying to perform.That combined with picking up as many shifts as he could, covering teachers at his local studio and the fundraising graft, well, it was a lot.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Jamie said.
He saw the shift in Darius immediately, the way his eyes shuttered as he replied. “Oh, and why is that?”
There was a bite to his voice that Jamie didn’t like, but he doubled down anyway. “People like you love to say the rest of us need to work harder, focus more, but the reality is that the ability to focus in on your dreams is a privilege not many of us have,” Jamie said. “Rest and recovery is a privilege I sure as shit don’t have time for.”
“Everyone has the same twenty-four hours in a day,” Darius replied.
“Like fuck they do,” Jamie countered. “Some of us’ve got to fucking work to eat, you biff.”
“I know that, obviously.”
“Do you, though? Maybe you know it, like, intellectually. But I don’t think you really get what that means.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, both staring out at the track. Jamie didn’t regret what he said, though. Darius was out of line; he just, well, it was obvious he meant well, but he was wrong.
The group was just over halfway, coming up on their seventh lap.
“I apologise for being insensitive to your situation,” Darius interrupted the silence. “But…”
“Of course, there’s a but.” Jamie rolled his eyes.
“But you should at least try to see a physio. You won’t be able to keep training if you don’t get that sorted, and it could affect your career as well.”
It was like Darius had dumped a bucket of ice water over Jamie. He wasright. The problem, of course, was that without an active contract, Jamie couldn’t risk the cost of physio; he was already starting to stress about his rent. It was frustrating as hell because, for all intents and purposes, Jamie had made it. He’d been in multiple West End shows and big-budget tours, made most of his money through his art—and that was a bloody pipedream for so many performers. London was expensive, though, and getting more so every year, even as his wages went in the opposite direction. He’d always known there would be lean times, but lately they were starting to increase in number.
“Please,” Darius asked. He looked at Jamie imploringly, and Jamie just didn’t have it in him to argue anymore.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll get it checked out.”
The group was entering their final kilometre. Jamie stood up slowly, walking back over to the track.
“Who do you think will take it?” he asked as Darius followed close behind. It looked close, which made sense; they were all aiming for roughly the same marathon times after all.
“I hate to say it, but Mark could win,” Darius sighed.
Jamie smiled. “Nah, my money’s on Claire.”
“Really?” Darius asked.
“Really,” he replied. “Want to make this interesting?”
“What did you have in mind?” Darius asked, obvious trepidation in his voice.
Jamie hummed. “If you win, I’ll go to physio tomorrow.”
“You should do that anyway.”
