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“Ready for another meeting?” Henley greeted Vanessa at the backstage doors into Cornley Theatre. A bright smile lit up Henley’s grey-blue eyes, and Henley’s ever-iconic beat-to-hell-and-back leather messenger bag was a familiar sight to Vanessa.
Vanessa gave Henley a tired smile in return, her hair in a messy bun. “Are we ever ready?”
Henley's incline of the head conceded Vanessa's quip was true.
“Did Trev and Will bring snacks again?” Genevieve asked eagerly, bounding up to the other two.
“Dunno, but I hope that Dip Dabs are on the menu,” Henley said, finally opening the door. Gen was quick to grab the door to hold it open, glaring at Hen.
Vanessa looked back and forth between the two of them, confusion and concern clearly evident on her face. “Is everything alright?” The question came out hesitantly, her nonconfrontational demeanour coming through.
“Someone,” Gen stressed, dark eyes still on Henley, “here has a shoulder strain from a few days ago, and a GP’s orders to not use it while it healed.”
“Henley,” Vanessa chided, looking like she half-wanted to take the messenger bag away, just in case.
“It’s fine,” Henley protested, quickly stepping inside. “And even if not, it’s nothing Dip Dabs can’t fix.” The two women shared a fondly exasperated eye roll before Vanessa went in after Henley.
“I fancy a packet of crisps myself,” Gen said, the door quietly clicking shut after her.
“Ooh, crisps do sound nice,” Nessa agreed, glancing back at Gen with a smile.
“So,” Will said, his voice a tad lower than everyone else's as he leaned into hearing range for his fellow Techies. “Who's got money on what?”
“Ten quid on Chris casting himself as the lead with Nessa opposite, and another five on Dennis sneezing in the middle of Chris' summary of last meeting,” Xīngxīng said, eyeing the three actors she mentioned.
“Fifteen on Chris casting himself as lead, but with Sandra opposite,” Hen said confidently.
“Ten p on Max saying something that derails the meeting,” Thales said, voice bored as ae looked at aer phone.
“Kev?” Will prompted, nudging the Set Designer.
“I’m not getting involved,” the man mumbled into his cup of coffee, cradled in his hands reverently.
The others threw teasing boos at him, complaining about how he always does this and never joins in on the fun.
“It wouldn’t be fun for you if I played while having insider information,” he argued back, referencing the fact that he and Chris have been friends since Primary.
“Trev,” Gen said, leaning her chair back on two legs, her eyes closed. “Has Robert or Chris said anything to each other today?”
Trevor frowned in thought, arms crossed against his chest. A small black bag sat between his feet and Will's. “I think they greeted each other? Said good morning or something.”
Blessing chimed in with her insider information. “Last night, after the kids left rehearsal, he and Chris were on the phone. Rob sounded angry, but—”
“—When doesn’t he when it comes to Chris,” the rest of the Techies crooned together jokingly, finishing Lessie’s sentence for her.
A slow smile appeared on Gen's face. “Twenty pound on Chris giving Robert a role that doesn't appear to be bad on the surface, but his character will get beat-up on in the duration of the show.”
“Fuck off, I'm not taking that bet,” Will ran a hand through his ginger hair. “I'm not completely spare.” The others chimed in with their agreements.
“Damn,” Gen joked, eyes opening at the same time all four chair legs hit the ground. “I would have made a fortune off you lot.”
The meeting continued in pretty much exactly the way everyone expected it to. Chris rattled off the notes he saved from last meeting, no hint that he knew the Techies were watching the actors like they were on Gogglebox. Dennis, much to Xīngxīng's disappointment, did not sneeze during Chris' reading of the notes. Annie did, instead.
“Better luck next time, Xīngxīng,” Will singsonged in a whisper, holding his hand out for the money. She scowled at Dennis fiercely as she pushed the five quid into Will’s hand.
Chris, who had paused in his recap when Annie sneezed, glanced at the group of Techies sitting to his right. The Techies put on their most innocent expressions, hastily sitting up properly and folding their hands in their laps. The Director squinted in suspicion, but when no one did anything else, he looked back at his notes. Everyone could see the line of tension still in the set of his shoulders, as if he was anticipating something to happen.
As if any of them would do something during a meeting.
Well.
Okay.
Henley might. It just depends on if he’d taken the coveted parking spot away again.
But since he hasn’t, there was nothing for him to worry about on the Techs’ side of things.
Max put his hand up in the silence, and Thales’ eyes darted to him, eagerly awaiting what the actor would say.
“Yes, Max?” Chris asked, glancing up from where he was pencilling something in his binder.
“We didn’t decide on our next play yet, right?”
“No, we haven’t,” Chris frowned, looking at everyone. “Which is why we’re all here today.”
“I thought we agreed on Moonshine?” Annie asked, looking between him and Max.
“I don’t care what we choose, honestly, Chris,” Dennis said, bright eyes looking at the director. “If that helps at all?”
Chris took a quiet, deep breath and let it out before he said, “That’s not the point, and it doesn’t.”
“How is it not the point?” Robert asked, gesturing unnecessarily.
“Oh, I know the answer to this one,” Thales drawled, a smirk crossing aer face.
Trevor preemptively put his face in his hands, awaiting the snippy comment the Sound Manager was going to make.
“What is it,” Vanessa turned in her chair to see ae better.
“It’s a democracy,” Thales said, olive green eyes not leaving Chris. “We all get a vote.”
“No,” Chris said, “that’s a republic, and I still can’t believe I’m letting you all get a vote on this.”
“You’ve already picked what we’re doing, haven’t you, Chris?” Sandra accused, nearly throwing a pen she’d been fiddling with at him.
“Oh, Chris, back to dictatorship? I thought we’d been over this before,” Robert said, admonishing him theatrically.
“Here, pass these to Gen and Hen,” Trevor whispered to Will, handing him a pack of crisps and a Dip Dab.
Will kicked the back leg of Blessing’s chair hard enough for her to turn around and look at him. He passed her the snacks and tilted his head in the direction of the two. Her eyes lit up in silent laughter as she took them and handed them to Henley, who was sitting next to her.
“Monster Munch,” Gen whispered incredulously. “What am I? Six?”
“If you don’t want them…” Thales leaned forward, aer head popping into the space between hers and Hen’s.
“Shove off, they’re mine,” Gen jokingly pushed aer face out of the way with her free hand.
“Ah, you’re no fun,” ae said, settling in aer seat again.
“—and if I ever hear about Doctor Frog again, before you have more than ten pages written, I will let you know exactly how I feel about that.” Chris’ voice rose over the arguments and other chatter that had started once Robert derailed the session.
Silence descended upon the crowd at the tone of Chris’ voice, reminiscent of that during The Nativity. Everyone exchanged glances and shifted in their seats, like naughty schoolchildren who had disobeyed their teacher’s final call to settle down. And then the absurdity of his statement begins to set in.
Thales was, to the expectation of everyone, the first to break. A few deep chuckles filled the room before ae attempted to pass them off as coughs. Someone else shifted, their metal chair’s hinges squeaking in response.
Another beat of silence.
Another cough.
Another squeak.
And the floodgates loose.
The room fills with raucous laughter as several people begin to wheeze out the words Doctor Frog over and over, attempting to imitate the near growl Chris had given it. Annie was half-curled, leaning into Max and Sandra, both of whom were wiping tears from their eyes. Kevin, as a result of knowing him for nearly all their lives, was doing a near-spot on impression. Robert, all the way across the room, was asking him to stop. Blessing, sitting behind Kev, and Will, sitting next to him, encouraged him to keep going.
To everyone’s surprise, Chris broke, a sharp bark of laughter joining the rest, when Jonathan said to Dennis rather seriously, “We still haven’t decided on a show.”