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A rushing backstage could seem horrifying, albeit magnetic. Once somebody got here, wondering, they rooted on the stage. The whirlpool grabbed them, caught with tenacious fingers. Theater turned into a home.
Actors adored it. At least, most of them. This emphasized the importance of the performance they were about to give. The responsibility ignited creative souls and raised spirits. Already halfway through a successful show.
Today they presented a new play. It meant a lot for their troupe as expectations were set expectantly high and critics seemed curious. Even a thought about it made Timothée fidget. He played a hundred roles already, despite his young age, but each brought worry.
The role was the random luck of the universe, although everyone tried to convince him the opposite. He couldn’t catch such a golden opportunity to collaborate with amazing actors. He played in tiny theaters, nothing special, and now he stood in the lights.
“Hey, Tim, ready for today?” Timothée felt a heavy palm on the shoulder.
As for amazing actors, that was one of them. Armie Hammer played a leading role as well. Once Tim heard it, he almost swooned. This guy blew up the halls solely with his appearance on stage. No words about his innate acting talent. Timothée admired him as a professional, a role model.
“Hey! I think so. You?” he smiled a little, looking him in the eyes.
“To be honest, it scares me so much,” Armie laughed, tightening a hold of Timothée’s shoulder.
“Can I help you anyhow?” he cunningly smiled.
“Hm, let me think,” he scratched his chin. “Keep up, kid!” he turned around, moving to the dressing room.
Maybe Tim had something more than professional admiration. It was not a one-sided feeling - he knew it. He remembered when they first met, and electrifying chemistry that built up rapidly. The director stood in awe, watching how they collaborated. That meant a lot.
Unexpectedly, the chemistry came out of the theater. They hung out a lot after rehearsals in the nearby pub. Simply put, they’ve been mates. Until everything took another turn. Hot lips explored Tim’s neck, his own palms rested on broad shoulders. Morning coffee with a light peck was also included.
Since then, their acting turned into a purity of feelings flowing from the scene. They weren't to play a romantic couple, but their feelings made characters look organically. Nothing was amiss; every line followed another neatly, with right emotions and intensity.
“So, how can I help you, Armie?” Tim asked, looking up at his partner.
“Maybe a small kiss would soothe my worry,” the man grinned.
“I can give you even a big one if you’d like to,” Tim smirked and pressed a kiss on his lips.
There was nothing vulgar in it, as well as in their relationships. They exposed purity and chasteness. No hook ups between rehearsals, no dirty talks and equivocal hints. Platonic love fitted both of them - no pressure, no obligations.
“Better now?” asked Timothée when he leant back.
“Sure, thank you!” Armie smiled. “I wanted to give you one thing since we’re here.”
Armie pulled a sleeve up, exposing tanned skin of his forearm. A glistening golden bracelet ringed his exquisite wrist. He took it off and put it into Timothée’s porcelain hand.
“Let it look after you when I can’t do this, okay?” he took Tim’s hand to leave a kiss on his knuckles.
“You’ll be on the stage with me the whole evening. I guess you can do it by yourself, can’t you?”
“You’re right,” Armie sighed and smiled. “We should go or Mike will kill us.”
That hour finally came. The troupe got together, chanting an improvised success mantra . Team spirit reached its high tide, energizing everyone for a flawless play. Timothée grabbed Armie’s hand before entering the stage to pass him courage. The man seemed down the whole day.
If Timothée could stay on stage forever, he would certainly do it. The lights, applause and gleaming faces of his colleagues were worth it. The audience got mesmerized by the first actors’ appearance, which felt magical.
Two acts flew by within a second. At least, Timothée thought it did. Now it was time for the last applause from the fascinated audience. Actors’ faces shone with pure happiness, hands were holding tight. Together they made a big break, shoulder to shoulder.
Suddenly, Armie stepped forward and spoke up:
“Thank you so much! We’re so glad you liked our performance. There’s no better sound than your applause. I just want to tell you the news. Alas, it was my last play today,” he stopped to catch his breath. “After ten years of serving this stage and you, my lovely audience, I have to leave this temple. No further questions. I ask you for privacy and compassion. Thank you so much for everything. I will always love you!” he bent forward, and went backstage followed by a storm of claps.
Timothée’s heart did a somersault. What has Armie just said? Last play? Waving his hand to the audience, he rushed to Armie’s dressing room. He needed to know what was going on. Timothée banged the door with his fist.
The lock clicked, and Tim flew into the room.
“What is going on, Armie? What did you just say there?” Tim’s face was boiling with blood, such red it was.
“I said everything. Do you wear a bracelet?” Armie didn’t lift his gaze up.
“No, you said literally nothing. Why?” Tim was striding back and forth.
“Do you wear a bracelet?” he sternly repeated.
“Yes, and so what? Armie, can you say anything?!
Silence.
“You can’t just sweep it under the rug. It hurts me. You never said anything.” Tim whispered imploringly.
Tim was ready to burst. Armie looked at him, a darkness in his eyes. Something was amiss there. Life. Armie’s precious soul. The man came closer, taking Tim’s wrist in his big palms. Long fingers found a golden chain.
“Never take it off, okay? You promise?” Armie’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’ll know that you’re safe.”
“Armie, why? Just say,” he leaned closer, but the actor stepped back. Tim was stunted; tears were flowing down his cheeks. “Um, okay, I’ll go if you don’t mind. Thank you for everything!”
No answer followed. No sound. Tim stepped out of the room. He didn’t see his way as tears were shedding. Everything turned foggy around him, even dark. Probably, the emptiness where he kept his feelings earlier covered his insides.
Timothée zoned out for eternity. He couldn’t tell they had something serious to grieve about, after all. But losing a soulmate, the best friend ever, could hurt a lot. He had a bunch of whys and no answers.
Timothée made up a thousand versions of Armie’s leaving. But none made any little sense to him. He didn’t come up with any decent options. Maybe he was still around and Tim could ask once again. Probably, the next time he would be lucky. When he opened the door, he saw that something was lying on a threshold.
A dozen roses. Red ones. Left for him. He knew who laid them here.
The cursive note said:
“For the lover that I lost.”
Armie was already gone.