“Do you think Horatio’s loyalty acts as an important counterbalance to all the lies and betrayal in the

play?” I almost feel like I’m writing essays for some class on Shakespeare, but at least the question

makes sense.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I mean, you’ve gotta have that one good guy in there, right? Or else it’s just a

bunch of crazy-ass royalty running around killing each other. And yeah, that’s good for tabloids and

stuff, but what’s a normal guy in the audience going to care? You throw Horatio in there, and it sort

of… makes it hit home.”

He’s still smiling a little when he glances down at his notebook to find his next question, clearing his

throat before he asks. “Would you say you and Horatio have something in common?” It’s something I

have to think about for a second, but I end up nodding as I look at him.

“I think so, yeah. I mean, I think all good actors have to find some sort of connection with their

characters, you know? To really get in their heads and make it real for the audience. So I guess I do or

Jeff wouldn’t have let me get up there to be Horatio.” I smile as I lean back in my seat to get

comfortable again. “Not that I’ve got a friend who’s going through the same stuff Hamlet goes

through.” Not that I have a lot of friends at all, a stupid little voice in my head throws at me. “But I like

to think that I’d stand by him, if I did.”

He at least looks interested in what I’m saying now, so I guess that’s a good sign, even though he

moves on to the next question without much of a reaction. “How did you get into acting? Is there

something specific that draws you to it?”

I laugh at that one, loudly because I can’t help it, and it takes me a second to stop. “You mean other

than me being an attention whore?” It’s something I’m willing to admit now, although I’m pretty sure

Doc would be frowning at the actual term. “I actually got into it in high school, and it just carried over. I

love being on stage, being able to get people to look and pay attention. To make them forget that I’m

some random guy on a stage, and make them hate or fall in love with a character. It’s great. Jeff gave me

a chance last year, and another huge chance this year, and while it’s been pretty crazy, I’m grateful for

it.” I’m still smiling, but it’s serious, and I have a feeling he’s going to pick up on it. “Don’t know where

I’d be if I didn’t have acting.”

He does get it. I can see it in the way he looks up at me for a minute that’s just a little too long before

asking the next question. “Can you tell us a little bit of what to expect from the show?”

“Orgies of death and blood. It’s a Shakespearean tragedy.” I try to keep a straight face, but I can feel

the smile bleeding through. And then… then I can’t help throwing another comment in, even though I

know I probably shouldn’t. “And I think costuming’s been talking about putting Riz in leather pants.

Though I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be common knowledge yet or not, so probably don’t print

that.” I watch to see if that gets a reaction at all.

It does, as if mentioning Rizzo finally makes the connection for him. He leans back in his chair a

little and looks at me with a slight frown and a strange little smile. “Now I know where I know you

from! Your hair used to be black. And all this time I’ve been wrecking my brains why you looked so

familiar.”

My hand automatically goes up to the back of my head, rubbing at my hair a little. It’d been black

for so long that I still forget that it’s not any more. I’m not quite sure where this is going to lead, but I

decide to just throw it out there. “Yeah, a lot of people don’t recognize me now.” I look at him and can’t

quite keep the edge out of my voice. “Probably not someone you wanted to recognize, though, huh?”

He stops the recording and puts the dictating machine down. “Certainly not before the interview.”

He gives me a quick smile. “But it turns out you’re not a total ass.”

“Not any more, at least.” I look at him, and can’t quite hide the smirk. “Jury’s still out on you,

though.” I try to hold the look as seriously as I can, but I can feel the smile pushing through more.

“What, no instant and violent loathing? Don’t tell me I’ve lost my special touch.”

“Well, you haven’t special touch-ed me yet, so I don’t know…” It slips out without me thinking

about it, something I probably would say automatically if I was talking to Rizzo, and the fairly

comfortable thing we’ve settled into. I know it’s wrong here before I even finish saying it, and I start

shaking my head. “Sorry, sorry. Ignore that… Just me being an asshole.”

He eyes me somewhat amusedly. “Yeah, the thing about actual assholes? They usually don’t realize

that’s what they are.” I suppose he has a point, but I shrug and shake my head.

“Doesn’t stop me from being one though, apparently. Old habits’re hard to break, I guess.” It could

apply to so many more things than just flirting with the guy that had put that look on Riz’s face, but I

just leave it at that.

There’s a short silence that could be uncomfortable, but somehow isn’t. He puts his dictating

machine back into his bag, and when he looks at me again there’s something almost mischievous in his

eyes. “You don’t really like long walks on the beach, do you?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, not nearly as smooth as I’d like to be, and I swear I can feel the phantom

tug of the ring that used to be there. “Are you kidding? Sand gets everywhere. And I don’t exactly tan

easily. It’s a nightmare.” I’m almost surprised that he’s put away his things already, but we’re not

talking about the show any more, so I suppose it makes sense.

“Amen,” he grins. The smile’s almost contagious, and I grin in return.

“Yeah, you don’t really look like one of those lucky bastards that can just tan at the drop of a hat.” I

smile a little more until Jeff calls over from the doors.

“Nick? I’m headed to my office. Leave one of the doors unlocked for-” He cuts himself off, glancing

at James. “For later, okay?” I nod, knowing that he’s talking about Rizzo.

“I got it, Jeff. Thanks.” He gives me a smile and lets himself out of the auditorium with a soft hiss of

the door closing behind him. I turn back to James after a second, and even though I probably shouldn’t

ask, I do.

“I actually don’t like to hang around in here too much without anyone else around. I, uh… we could

go somewhere else, if you still needed stuff for the interview?”

“Oh.” He is quick to stuff his pen and notebook back into his bag. “I think I’ve got it covered for the

most part. But if there’s more you’d like to tell me about the play or maybe working with Jeff… How

do you feel about coffee?”

I laugh at the question. How do I feel about coffee? “What, you mean the nectar of the gods? It’s one

of the only vices I’ve got left. I’m pretty sure my blood is about 80% caffeinated these days.”

He nods as he gets up. “Guess the Plato it is then.” I nod in return, getting up and grabbing my own

bag, shoving a few things to the bottom so I can throw my rehearsal stuff in too. I throw it over my

shoulder and look back at James.

“Ready when you are.”

***

The cafe is just as busy as it always is in the evening, but there’s a few empty tables waiting when we

get there. The girl behind the counter catches my eye, and I nod, letting her know that I’m going to be

ordering my usual. I glance over at James to ask if he wants anything too, but something else catches

my eye before I can say anything.

Rizzo’s here. Of course he is. And I would’ve realized that if I’d taken a second to think about it.