Pretense (n): an attempt to make something that is not the case appear true.
It must be a pretense. There is no way I can ever reveal my true inclinations.
There's just something about him -- everything about him turns me on. The curve of his shoulder, the nape of his neck, those puppy-dog eyes you can get lost in for days.
I would have sworn, once, I caught him staring, lusting after me... could have sworn I heard a desperate, breathless confession falling from his lips that he tried so desperately to hide.
Of course, I was imagining things.
The show is finally over -- the set is struck, and I am just waiting for the TD to finish up -- he's also my best friend, so that helps. He's heard ALL about my crush on the leading man, lectured me, listened to me lecture myself; I'm a lost cause.
"I'm gonna run up to the cats and finish a few things up, then we can ree-lax for the rest of the afternoon." By 'ree-lax', we mean the post-show ritual of getting completely fucked up and gossiping about the past two and half months of Dram-ma.
"Yus! I HAVE to show you this Disney show. We can watch it from the beginning, but there's this ONE song in Season 2, you'll love it." We're two peas in a pod, I already know he's gonna love it without him even telling me.
"Awesome!" He, astonishingly enough, has come around to this fact.
Anxious to leave, feeling
his
presence lingering in the space, I ask, "Is there anything I can do down here to speed up the process?"
"Oh, not really, maybe just shut off the lights downstairs..." Did I just see a mischievous wink?
"Is it all clear?" The distrust in my voice is apparent in the annunciation.
"I dunno, why don't you go check?" That 'innocent' tone is officially starting to put me on edge...
So, dutifully, I go downstairs and check out the lighting situation - they're on in the Costume Hall.
Fucking...
Crossing the Greenroom, I swear I hear a noise down the hall, further. Without checking, I agree I am imagining it, and go to shut off the light.
...only to find out, the fucking storage room light got left on, for some reason.
Shit... Probably thought there would be more coming down, or something.
So, I flip the hall light back on and venture into the-
"Hello?" Could have SWORN I heard someone laughing, that time.
Cautiously, I creep down the hall.
Theatres are known to have ghosts -- that's just a THING; nut up, Emily.
About the time I get to the light switch at the very end of the hallway, I notice the chain-link 'door' that separates the storage from the rest of the hallway. It looks like... ropes are hanging down off of the top pipe.
Well, fuck me.
My hand switches off the light.
"Hello, back."
I jump -- jump AND scream; he laughs, walking out from the short stairwell that led... well, I still don't know, actually.
"Fucking Christ, Dude, I have PTSD, you can't fucking do that kind of shit to me." I struggle to gain control over my body, again.
"I'm sorry," he sounds -- and looks -- genuinely sorry, for an actor, before switching into an offhanded, "I just wanted to get you back." Threat Level: Elevated. His legs look powerful -- a summer of tap-dancing up and down the stairs probably didn't hurt.
"Really? What did I ever do to you?"
"Nothing -- that's just it." The tone in his voice turns to match the sinking feeling I have in my gut. "You ignored me." Genuine... something I can't quite place. Annoyance? Anger?
"Just being polite," returning his nonchalant tone.
"Oh? It's
polite
to ignore one of your co-workers while you go about being pleasant to literally
everyone
else?" So, it wasn't just my imagination --
