Danny smiles at me, and with the head scarf gone and fallen to the ground, snowflakes in his dark

hair, his skin seeming to glow somehow, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers.

Chapter 10

Outside

NICK: I wake up to the sound of my next-door neighbor screwing his girlfriend. No, I take that back.

Not screwing her. Making love to her. At 7:30 in the morning. Now, I’m all for getting some in the

morning, but it’s usually wake up, do your thing, find your clothes, and run.

But not them. No, they’ve been at this for almost half an hour now. All “oh baby, I love you,” and

“yes, perfect, oooh,” and “sweetheart,” and so many other things. She lives out of state, so when they

get together, they spend all their time declaring their undying love for each other. It makes me want to

vomit.

So I do. Into my garbage can.

Okay, that might actually be from the hangover I have right now. Lately I haven’t been getting them,

and let’s just pretend it’s not because I haven’t gotten sober enough to even have a hangover.

This morning though, it’s there, and just as painful as ever. Like it’s trying to make up for those

mornings I was still drunk enough to not have one. Like I cheated it out of making me feel like shit, and

this is its revenge.

And the greatest part is that there’s absolutely nothing in my room to help me out. Unless you count

aspirin and water. Which I don’t. Obviously.

At this point I figure my day will get better. It has to, right?

It doesn’t.

* * *

I skipped classes today, figuring that getting my head to stop pounding was more important. I’ve eaten,

I’ve had a few drinks, put a call in to Marc to meet him later, and I’m on my way to see the posting of

the parts for Hamlet.

I’m in a pretty good mood now, and who should be walking towards me but Rizzo. He’s talking to

someone I don’t know, smiling and laughing. As he gets closer, he looks over at me. No, that’s not

right… he looks through me. Like I’m not even there.

“Hey,” I say to him. Nothing too much. Like I would to anyone I knew. But there’s nothing from

him. Not a smile, not a wink. Not one goddamn flicker of one perfect eyelash.

What the hell?

I turn and watch him walk away from me now, my stomach trying to claw its way out of my body

and follow after him. I don’t understand what all that was about. Did I do something to piss him off? I

can’t remember anything…

The last thing I remember is our little “practice session” for my callback audition. And he definitely

wasn’t angry with me then. I saw him after the auditions, hanging around outside the theater and talking

with some of the other drama kids he knows. But he wasn’t angry then either. He even told me I had a

good audition. So what’s with the silent treatment now?

I’m totally confused, but I can hear the group of people ahead talking as they wait for the cast list to

be posted. It suddenly goes up a notch, and I know the list is there.

Do I go after Rizzo, try to find out what his problem is? Or do I go look at the cast list? It shouldn’t

be that hard of a choice, right? Rizzo’s just one person - acting is more important than one person.

So why is it so hard for me to turn and go toward the group of excited voices?

This thing with Rizzo will have to wait. I’ll go find him later. Right now, I have a part to go claim.

* * *

I blink again, but the words on the paper don’t change. Nick Keller. Marcellus.

I’ve been here so long that everyone else has gone now, and it’s just me and this damn piece of paper

taped to the wall. And those stupid damn words that aren’t supposed to be there.

Marcellus! This has to be a mistake. I owned that audition, I know I did. And for me to have had that

good of an audition and get Marcellus? Obviously a mistake!

Stupid shitty part. I could do this part drunk and high and it wouldn’t make any difference at all. It

doesn’t require anything from the actor. Come on, say a few stupid-ass lines, then dick around

backstage for the rest of the show.

Blink.

Nick Keller. Marcellus.

“Nick?” The voice is quiet, trained, and familiar. I finally turn away from that unchanging piece of

paper and look at my traitor of a director. He doesn’t say anything else, and when I figure out that he’s

waiting for me to say something, the words are dragged from my throat without me even thinking about

them.

“Marcellus, Jeff? Why? My audition was better than that and we both know it.” He opens his mouth

to respond, but I cut him off. “You can’t deny it, Jeff! I was better than that. I am better than that!” I’m

yelling, but I can’t stop myself. I have to make him see. I can’t do this part. No one goes to Hamlet to

see Marcellus. I’ll get stuck in the back and no one will see me at all. “Jeff, please! You have to give me

a better part! This isn’t supposed to be my part!”

I can feel myself beginning to panic, but the only thing I see in Jeff’s eyes is pity. And it stops me in

my tracks. He’s not going to give me a different part. All my arguments are gone, and all that’s left is

one question.

“Why? After that audition, why?” I choke the words past everything I’m feeling, but all I get is more

pity from Jeff.

“It’s not always all about the audition, Nick. I told you that you needed to clean yourself up. And

you haven’t. We can’t afford a liability like that on this show, Nick. You know how big this is. For

everyone. We can’t have you playing with that shit while you’re carrying a main part.” He looks at me

closely and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Nick.”

And he walks away. Leaves me standing there.

* * *

Alcohol, drugs, and people. Maybe something will help take my mind off of all this shit. I’m at some

Halloween party that claims to be the biggest on campus. They’re probably right, too. There’s so many

people here, most of them in costume, and all I can hope is that this will help fix my shitty day.

After I’d managed to finally leave the drama department after Jeff and I had our tender little

moment, I found Marc and told him what a messed up day I was having. I started to, at least, before he

said that he wasn’t my therapist or my friend, and that he didn’t want to hear my bitching. But he gave

me a little something extra for my cash, so now I’m flying high and ready for this party. Screw what Jeff

says, I can do what I want.

What I want right now is to forget everything that’s gone wrong today. Which is hard to do since

Rizzo’s here. Of course. I wasn’t able to find him earlier in the day when I was looking for him, but I

knew the instant he walked in. It’s like a shift in the air, a change in the tone of people’s conversations,

the way the hair on my arms stands on end. All because of him.

And he knows it. God, look at him standing there all in black with a scarf over his hair, and I don’t

know if it’s an actual costume (it has to be, because he has a sword), but I don’t care, because he makes

it look so damn good. I can almost ignore the fact that he’s talking to that ass he’s always around and

hasn’t even looked my way.

Just like earlier today.

Fine, I can play that game too. I can find someone to go home with tonight.

But of course that doesn’t even work tonight. Instead, I have to deal with Mister-“I’m better than

you and Rizzo likes me more and are you going to hit me now?”-Asshole.

And god, I do want to hit him. I want to swing my fist and feel it connect with his face and see pain

in those endless blue eyes of his and see blood on those damn distracting lips. But I can’t, now, can I?