laughs. It takes me a second to realize that he’s not really laughing at me. That it’s soft and a little tired.

The same sort of thing I’ve been noticing behind Rizzo’s eyes lately at the cafe.

“We had a cast member walk off the show. He… wasn’t getting along very well with the rest of the

cast. So now I need to find a replacement.” I wince a little. It’s late February, and the show’s in May. At

this point, finding new cast could wreck the whole show, especially if it’s a lead. He sees the look on my

face and knows that I know it. Nodding again, he sits down behind his desk and gestures at me.

“Enough about our problems. Look at you! Word has it that things are getting better in your world.”

I can’t help laughing at the way he puts it. In my world. For the first time in a long time, I’m not in my

own world. I’m in the same goddamn crazy world as everyone else.

“It’s good to have you back, Nick.” There’s a significant little pause, and I can predict what’s

coming next before he even opens his mouth again. “You’re doing okay, though? Really?”

I know in that moment that Jeff knows. He knows everything that’s happened, and probably even

knew as it was happening. The drugs, the attempt, the hospital. Probably even the people I hooked up

with. I don’t know how he knows, but he does.

I nod at him, and even though I’ve barely said a word since leaving the auditorium, it’s hard to force

them out. “Yeah, Jeff. It’s… good. It’s okay. Still got a ways to go, but I’m getting there.” I can see the

next question on his tongue, so I talk over. “And I’m sober. Have been since, well. A while, now.” I

laugh again to try to ease the weirdness, but Jeff just smiles at me.

“Good. Fucking great.” His grin gets a little wider as I stare at him, it still being strange to hear

professors curse, even if it’s him. “Though if you tell me that you’ve given up acting in your new-found

sobriety…”

“Are you kidding?” I interrupt him without even thinking. “I miss it like I’d miss my leg if someone

cut it off! Hate that I couldn’t even fit a class in this semester.”

He laughs at me, but I don’t care, because it’s the truth. “What are you doing tomorrow, Nick?” The

question hits me out of the blue, but I do my best to remember my schedule. Tomorrow is Wednesday,

and Wednesday means:

“Class ‘til 3. Why?”

He tosses a script at me and I catch it automatically, only fumbling a little. It’s a battered cast copy

of Hamlet, with “Horatio” written in black permanent marker on the beat-up cover. I’m so busy staring

at it that I almost miss what he says next.

“Because you’ve got rehearsal at 5. I’ve found my replacement. Welcome back to the show.”

***

I don’t get stage fright. I get nervous, yeah. Who wouldn’t? But it’s a rush. It’s never stopped me. Going

to rehearsal is another matter. There’s a huge part of me wishing for something to calm my nerves, and I

practically twitch my way through classes. I get through, somehow, and 5 o’clock is rolling around

before I’m ready for it.

I feel like a sneak, slipping back into the drama department, the sound of people gathered in the

theater already filtering out into the hallway. Everyone’s attention is somewhere else when I walk in the

door, and it gives me a second to readjust to being here again. I see Riz right away, off to the side

talking to the girl playing Ophelia, and I have no idea if he knows about me being back on the cast or

not.

The surprised tilt of his eyebrows when he sees me points to “not”. I drop my bag off to the side,

giving him a little shrug as I slouch down into a seat.

Jeff sees me and gives me a smile and a reassuring nod before getting everyone’s attention to start

rehearsal. “Alright, people. I know everyone’s worried about what happened yesterday, but we’re going

to push on, okay? I found you a new Horatio, and hopefully you all won’t scare this one off.” There’s a

buzz of awkward laughter as people look around for the new guy, and a few pairs of eyes land on me.

Rizzo’s are the only ones that register any recognition.

Jeff doesn’t waste any time choosing a scene to start with, and within seconds actors and crew are

scrambling onstage and behind the curtain to their places.

Riz comes over when I settle on a spot to stand onstage and gives me one of his little grins. “Horatio,

hm?” When I look at him, I can’t keep the smile off my face.

“Hope that’s okay with you… Prince.” He laughs and shakes his head, and I finally lose that nervous

feeling in the pit of my stomach.

***

A week back at rehearsals, and I’m beginning to wonder how crazy I was to accept Jeff’s invitation

back to the show. When I’m not in rehearsal, I’m in class, and there are times when I have to run across

campus to make one or the other on time. It’s been close more than once, slipping into my seat just as

the professor starts to lecture.

The guy who sits next to me, some jerk-off soccer playing jock, grins over at me and the way I’m

practically sucking air in from my run from the drama department. Stupid cigarettes and my tiny lung

capacity. He actually laughs when I glare at him, and whispers over at me: “Close call.”

I don’t even respond, grabbing my notebook and a pen to try to take notes in the most boring class

on the planet. Like I care what some muscled-out jock thinks.

Even if he is less muscled and more just really in shape and sort of strong looking. And pretty

attractive, for a jock. With blue eyes, and great hands, and his smile’s actually really nice, and…

Damn. I need to get laid.

***

Another day, another rehearsal. Jeff seems to be pretty happy with my stuff so far, even though there are

times that I forget exactly where I’m supposed to be standing. I’ve had the lines memorized for months,

from when I didn’t get the part the first time, but the on-stage blocking isn’t always as easy to

remember.

But he just lets me know where to be, if someone else doesn’t tell me first. And even though he

smiles every time, I could kick myself each time it happens. I’m supposed to be making things easier

for everyone, not harder.

Jeff ends rehearsal and calls me over, and I’m certain it’s going to be about the scene we just

finished, and how Riz and I were practically dancing with each other with how often he had to shift me

into the right spot onstage. But Jeff just smiles from his seat. “How do you feel about interviews for the

paper?”

He really needs to stop with the cryptic, out of nowhere shit, because it makes me feel like an idiot

every time he pulls it on me. Like I don’t speak the language or something. When all I can do is look at

him like I’m stupid, he laughs.

“I’ve got a reporter from the school paper showing up tomorrow, and I’m supposed to find people

for him to talk to.” No, that doesn’t make any more sense than the first thing. There’s no reason for him

to be asking me about it.

“What about Rizzo?” I gesture over to where he’s packing up his things. “Shouldn’t they interview

the star?”

Jeff gives me a grin and shrugs. “Thought we’d switch it up this time. So their editor’s going to be

here after rehearsal to talk to you.” The editor? The familiar name flashes into my mind, James Foley,

and I’m nodding before I even realize it. I wanted to meet the guy, anyway. Why not?

***

Rehearsal the next day is almost over, should’ve ended already, but Jeff’s got Riz and I onstage yet,

running through one of our scenes, and we’re not going to stop until he’s either satisfied or sick of us.

I’m doing my best to focus on the scene, to give over to Horatio, which isn’t hard when you’re playing