Page 20 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
“I like ‘The Song of the Dead,’” Jonah said. “I remember hearing it for the first time and it made me cry, and I wasn’t sure how I could perform it without bawling my eyes out each night. Luckily, it’s an emotional number, so it doesn’t matter if I get teary singing it.”
“‘Answer Me’ is my favorite,” Jay said, which didn’t surprise Jonah at all. “Next up, have you ever had any major mishaps onstage?”
Dexter nodded earnestly. “Back when we tookThe Wooden Horseon tour, I had a major wardrobe malfunction during the song at the end of the first act. Everyone saw my arse, and I had to pretend everything was okay.”
Jonah gave a genuine laugh. “The audience certainly got their money’s worth for that performance.” Dexter offered him a smile in return. “I wouldn’t say I’ve had any major mishaps. I once called Bastien by hisname rather than Patroclus and the way he looked at me made me want to laugh, but it was during a really serious scene, so it was hard to keep going without cracking a smile. We managed it somehow.”
“Last question,” Jay said, looking at the laptop screen in front of her. “I’ve not had the pleasure of seeing you this week, Dexter, but word is you two have the most amazing chemistry onstage. Is it easy to turn off that intense relationship once you leave the stage?”
Dexter sucked in a breath and clasped his hands together in his lap as he spoke. “Hearing we have a good chemistry is honestly the highest compliment. It shows we are doing our job as actors in showing the love between those characters. I can only speak for myself here, but I get caught up in the show, you feel these intense emotions and portray them all while singing these outstanding songs to each other. It’s really strange to then walk off the stage and just be yourself again. It takes a while for me to wind down.”
“You certainly become close when acting out those scenes,” Jonah said. “Even after only a few days you establish a bond, which is necessary to make sure you’re doing your characters justice. I think, now I’ve played Achilles for a while, I can leave him behind when the costume comes off and the audience leaves. But, yeah, the bonds you create with your theatre family go beyond costumes and makeup. I wouldn’t want to turn off those relationships.”
“That was a very diplomatic answer from you both.” Jay laughed. “But, seriously, I’m gutted I didn’t get to see you as Patroclus this week, Dexter. I’m so excited to see you as Hector. And the other new cast members too.”
Jay wrapped up the podcast with more niceties before a string of sponsors spilled from her lips, leaving Jonah and Dexter to sit there silently while she reeled off the business names. When she finally finished, she stopped recording and smiled at them both, but her eyes settled on Dexter, and Jonah couldn’t help but feel slightly snubbed by her.
“Thank you both for coming in so early today,” she said, cheeks flushing as she let her eyes wander across Dexter’s face. “I know it’s a double show day for you.”
“Well, for Jonah, at least,” Dexter said as he smiled sweetly back at herbefore turning his attention to Jonah. “Though, I hope you don’t mind me saying, you’ve looked exhausted this week. Aren’t you due some time off? It might help with some slipups you’ve been making.”
If Jonah’s look could kill, Dexter would be six feet underground. He didn’t understand the man’s motivation; had Colbie not explicitly told them they needed to put on a show? How was putting him down in front of a podcast host going to help?
“Thanks for that,” Jonah said, trying his hardest not to let the smile on his face falter. “Good to know you think I look like shit.”
“I didn’t say you looked like shit.”
“You might as well have done.”
Dexter’s smile widened, and before Jonah could register what was happening, Dexter reached over to him and ruffled Jonah’s curls between his fingers like he was fussing over a dog. “Jonah isn’t good at taking criticism. Are you, sweetheart?”
Jonah wanted to pluck the sickening “sweetheart” from his lips and set fire to each syllable. He could feel Jay watching them, breathing in every moment of their interaction, affectionate hair mussing,sweethearts, and all.
Jonah scrunched his nose and maintained his forced smile. “Oh, I don’t mind. At least I can get those high notes easily, unlike you, Dex.”
Dexter made a fond-sounding hum from the back of his throat. “High notes aren’t everything though, are they?”
“No, but Olivier Awards are.”
Jay cleared her throat, and they turned their heads to look at her. “So,” she said, clapping her hands together. “If it’s okay, I will just get a couple of photos of you both for the podcast announcement then get this thing edited.” She wanted them to leave. Dexter nodded and wrapped his arm around Jonah’s shoulder, his cologne so strong it took Jonah’s breath away as he pressed himself against his side. Jay took a couple of photos of them both, their smiles as real as they could be, reminding Jonah the role of liking Dexter wasn’t one he could play with ease.
Eleven
“The drumming of the waves against my skin, enough to form a fire within.”
—“To Troy,”The Wooden Horse, Act One
Sherrie threw back a bright green shot of unidentified alcohol, then let out a screech as she slammed the empty glass down onto the table. Her hair shone under the disco ball twirling above their heads, the glitter spray she’d doused herself in picking up every ounce of light. She licked her deep-purple lips, the color staying put despite the amount of times they’d been swiped against a glass already, then she reached across her chair for Jonah and pulled him close to her face. For the briefest of moments, he thought she might kiss him.
“You know,” she slurred, placing her finger over his lips to stop him from speaking. “It’s your turn to get a round in.” It wasn’t his turn. In fact, he’d got the last two drinks for her. But he didn’t have the energy to complain, especially as they were celebrating her birthday.
“What can I get you?”
Sherrie hummed, then slumped in her chair, her arm falling from Jonah. “Just a bottle of gin, darling.”
Bastien, who seemed determined to sniff every two seconds, making Jonah believe he still wasn’t over the flu, shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Sherrie,” he said, voice light, joyful, as if speaking to a child. “I think you might have to go home soon, don’t you?”
Sherrie sat up abruptly, like a puppet whose strings were pulled, and smacked his hand away from her. “Don’t give me the sad-drunk-girl voice,”she said, her words blending into each other. “I’m here to get pissed, and if you’re not gonna support me in that, thenyoucan go home, Bastien.”
