Page 87 of Butterfly

“You shall have it.”

It’s a completely different experience not to have to sit at the edge of a set but to actually live in it. It’s fun. While Alex and the other actors sit on the stuffed chairs, the extras dance around, and I join the singers at the back. The song is made of only a couple of lines that are repeated over and over. The audience isn’t going to see a lot of us, anyway, as the focus of the scene is on Alex and the others.

Dylan might steal the show with his amazing leaps and aerial pirouettes. Alex keeps an eye on him, especially when he dances close to me. Maybe Alex’s character is supposed to frown like that.

When the director shouts, “Cut!” I slump on the fake marble steps. Sweat is trickling down my back thanks to the strong lights, but the make-up stays on.

“It’s fun, innit?” Dylan sits next to me, touching my foot with his. “It’s nice to go wild sometimes.”

“Yes, it’s fun.”

His eyes stay on me, intense and demanding my attention. They’re the colour of ancient ice, the kind that’s at the base of a glacier. I gaze away and shift my foot away from him. When Alex told me that Dylan showed too much interest in me, I didn’t take him seriously. I might get the occasional glance from a man, or the occasional moment of lust, but his interest is neither. The air between us thickens with a vibe that pricks my skin. And not in a good way. I don’t believe he likes me, and not because I’m being self-conscious. He’s paying me attention to spite Alex, and I don’t want to be part of his plan.

“I’d better go and change,” I say, standing up.

“You’re right. Changing is a good idea.” A corner of his mouth pulls up.

“Not always. Sometimes you’re happy with what you have.”

“But who knows what one can find with a change?” He follows me through the set and along the corridor.

I pause in front of the changing room. “If one is happy, then one shouldn’t change.”

“Good point. But sometimes happiness lasts only a moment.” He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from my sweaty cheek.

I step away from his reach, but he doesn’t flinch at my rejection and his smile doesn’t falter.

“I’ll see you later.” He wiggles his fingers, heading to his changing room.

I shake my head to get rid of the doubt working its way through my mind. Happiness with Alex isn’t a fleeting thing, and even if it is, I’m not interested in Dylan.

My heart cracks a little when Ursula removes the prosthetic. The ugly truth about me is back with a vengeance, like a bad joke at my expense. Once the foundation is gone, the scars stand out, red and angry, against my skin.

Ursula clears her throat. “If you need this make-up again, please let me know. I’ll be more than happy to do it.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand, but I can’t conjure up a smile. I had no idea that having the prosthetic removed would crush my heart like that, which is silly. It’s like waking up from a dream to live a nightmare, but the nightmare is real.

I take my time in the shower, washing away the sweat and the leftover make-up. Light brown rivulets sluice down my body, deleting every evidence of my dream. A hollow sensation chills my chest. Maybe that’s how Cinderella felt when her beautiful gown turned into rags past midnight.

When I leave the changing room, Alex is already waiting for me in the corridor, with Dart at his side. His tight T-shirt stretches over his bulging muscles, and his hair is still wet from the shower. Inky curls frame his strong features, and Lord, he’s breathtaking. My bad mood lifts a little at the sight of him.

“Hey.” He drops his bag and hugs me. My cheek presses against his hard chest as his warm and soapy scent envelops me. “What’s wrong?”

I chuckle without humour. “Can I ever hide something from you?”

“I hope not.” He strokes my jaw.

“It’s nothing, really. I mean, I’m not even sure why I’m upset.” I point at my back. “Ursula removed the make-up. Silly, uh?”

“Not at all.” He kisses my temple. “It makes sense.”

As tears threaten to well in my eyes, I pull back from him, not wanting to start sobbing like a whiny girl in the middle of the corridor. “It’s harder than I thought.”

“Sienna,” two voices say my name at the same time. One is Alex’s, the other is Ursula’s.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, waving from the other side of the corridor. “But would you please give me the costume?”

“Of course.” I’m glad to have an excuse to break this moment. Alex has seen my worst, but I want to be strong for him. No more crying. “Be right back.” I kiss his lips and walk away.

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