Page 69 of Sinister Games

After I scribbled my name, she handed me two sheets of paper stapled together.

“What’s this?”

“Scene from the play.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. Despite cramming the infamous Chicken Soup monologue with Jane last night, I really wasn’t feeling confident about it. Having to just read a scene from the play was way easier.

“How do I look?” asked Jane. “I’m up next.”

Placing the paper in my mouth, I reached up and straightened the long brunette wig she had on. We had decided she had more of a chance of getting the lead if they didn’t see her short hair. She was wearing one of the designs I had made in high school. It was a long fluted skirt in a beautiful hunter green. She had wanted to wear my Vampire’s Wife dress but I just couldn’t let her. Too many kinky memories; besides, that felt like one betrayal too many of Richard.

Taking the paper out of my mouth, I nodded. “You’re good to go. Break a leg!”

Jane gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and then ran down the audience aisle to creep up the side stairs that led to backstage.

I sat down in one of the seats to watch.

She really did a magnificent job. Strutting from one end of the stage to the other. Swaying her hips as she delivered each line with a sassy wink or twitch to her mouth. One of the things I found fascinating about acting was how you could interpret a character differently. Jane was playing the lead with much more confidence than I would have.

To me the female lead seemed more fragile, almost broken. She was trapped in a toxic relationship with a man she loved but suspected of trying to murder her. It reminded me of that song lyric, every day a little death.

She knew loving him was killing her but she couldn’t stop. It would be like trying to stop breathing. He was her everything and if he demanded everything from her, even her life, then so be it. An all-consuming love, deadly in its intensity.

Reaching up, I was surprised to feel a tear on my cheek. Swiping it away, I stood and headed up the side stairs. I was on next.

I met Jane backstage.

“So good!” I mouthed.

She gave me two thumbs up then mimed breaking a leg before heading to the audience seats to watch.

“Okay, next we have a Lizzie Larkin. Lizzie Larkin, are you backstage?”

Peeking around the curtain, I waved in the general direction of the voice. With the stage lights, I couldn’t see beyond the first few rows. “Yes, sir!”

“Very good. I’m Jack Hutley, the director. You will be reading with Mr. Goodman over there.”

A good-looking guy stepped forward and gave me a quick wave. “Hey, I’m Mike.”

“Hi, Mike.”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to do great.”

I blushed and shyly thanked him.

“Players, are we ready?” asked the director.

Mike gave me a questioning look. I nodded. “All set, Jack,” he called out.

“Let’s take it from the top of page one,” instructed Jack.

Mike took a few steps upstage. After a couple of deep breaths, he approached me with arms outstretched. “I took the swiftest horse I could find to be by your side, Lady Elizabeth. I am at your service.” With that, he knelt at my feet, kissing my hands.

“I fear I am going mad,” I exclaimed as I freed my hands and turned my back on him.

Trying to stay in the moment, I refused to acknowledge the truth of that statement despite the way my stomach clenched as I said the words. It didn’t help that the character’s name was Elizabeth. It was like I was finally uttering my darkest fear out loud, not the character.

“My dear, dear Lady Elizabeth, do not speak of such things. It is that fiend you have married. He is to blame for your melancholy.”

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